Day 139 - Darwin Bench & Lamarck Col

September 1, 2023

Evolution Lake Campsite @ mi 845.6 to Darwin Bench Junction @ mi 846.3

Miles Hiked: 0.7 (+ 8.3 mi to North Lake Campground)

PCT Mileage: 846.3

Total Mileage: 1,877.8

My goodness the wind was something else. It was brutal as we were going to bed, but settled down once the sun had set. The moon was full and all throughout the night the tent was lit up like a disco. As the sun began to rise the wind kicked it into full gear hammering our tents from every side.

We both woke up to my alarm, but neither of us wanted to get moving. It was freezing out. We yelled over to each other from our tents dreading the changing of cloths and stepping outside. Daaamn mainly sleeps with his rainfly off his tent which means he has a good view. This morning he said our camp was full of deer. I had to see for myself so I unzipped my door and there they were. Five or six deer all within twenty feet of our campsite. They didn’t care about us one bit. After the noise we made trying to get a better view they went right back to snacking.

It took us a while to get packed today. For starters we had to contend with the wind. Nothing could be left on its own. You always had to put something heavy on top of something lighter. Secondly we had to load our packs so that everything was inside it. Anything on the outside was at risk of being lost or throwing off our balance.

Our route today was going to be extreme and way out of my comfort zone. This was not the recommended route out of the Sierra due to its difficulty and was something that I’ve struggled with on other trips. That being, exposure. Bouldering. Scrambling. One slip and you have a serious injury. I get weak in the knees doing this stuff. On more recent trips I’ve managed to get through it, but my mind and stomach are usually all twisted up the entire time.

The Darwin Bench is an off trail route that takes us up to a high pass called the Lamarck Col. The bench consist of a very minimally traveled route along the banks of a few alpine lakes where the shores (and path) are lined with washing machine sized boulders. Oh and apparently they’re still buried in snow which butts right up to and hangs over the lakes edge. Not where you want to slip. Once you reach the final lake, you make a sharp left and head straight up the mountain side to the pass. There is zero trail here and you gain 2,000 vertical feet in a mile all while climbing over rocks now the size of Volkswagen Beatles. With the hard part done, you descend another snowy rock filled slope to where it somewhat levels out and you zig zag your way down the mountain through a zillion switchback’s.

Our first mile out of camp was anticlimactic. Thankfully I opted to wear leggings, a light fleece, my rain coat, and gloves. It was already cold to begin with and the wind made it ten times worse.

Before we knew it we were at the turn off for our quest. It turned out there was no sign for this trail like there has been for every other trail leading off the PCT. And to put icing on the cake, there was bunch of sticks and logs blocking the very faint path that could resemble a trail if you knew what to look for. This was a foreboding sign.

Being that it was our only option at this point we set off up the steep incline that resembled a trail. Right away we were pausing to look for faint signs of human travel through the alpine grasses and rocky ledges. We did pretty well for a while picking the right path this way and that way up the steep hillside. When we’d reach a rock wall we’d look for a path more reasonable around it, but often times the correct path was up the wall. We ended up loosing the path completely a few times and would reference the map to get back on track.

We eventually reached a steep wall that was not climbable, but knew something good lay above it. After some wandering around we found a faint trail that led into a little cut between the rocks and took it up the rocky face with ease. Upon cresting the top we became speechless. The most gorgeous lake we had seen just appeared right in front of us.

This was not the series of lakes we had been warned about. In fact nobody had mentioned this one at all. I think what really made it was the mountains and clouds. We hadn’t seen any clouds in the last six days. In the high mountains clouds are usually a bad sign, but today they were light and fluffy and gave great definition to the mountain range. The sun was just cresting and lighting the higher peaks. There was bits of snow here and there adding a little extra pop. There was even a deer just doing its thing, eating the grasses as we passed by. We got super excited at this point. If people didn’t even mention this, could you imagine what the landscape looks like that they did bring up!?

After passing the lake and small snowfield we began the next series of route finding which would take us up the next level to the actual lakes everyone told us about. The terrain was pretty wide open here. There was loads of water channels coming down the hillside through the open valley. This appeared to be water flow from the upper lakes to the lower. Between navigating the water crossings and rocky ascents up from one level of the basin to the next it was pretty slow going.

I would look at the map and get our bearing. From there I would look for a landmark up ahead based on that route. Sometimes it was a big boulder, a funky looking outcrop, a river crossing. Really anything that stood out within a hundred yards in front of us along our course. A few times we got way off course due to a crossing or some physical obstacle we couldn’t see from our starting point, but we’d re-adjust and get back on course.

We reached the final rock face to ascend and it brought us up to the lakes. It took us a while to find a safe way up. Some of the rocks were too big to scale and we’d have to backtrack and come at it from a different angle. It wasn’t hard, just time consuming.

When we finally made it up and over we landed in our second lake basin of the morning and it was even more impressive than the first. We were in the thick of it now. The mountains lining these lakes were immensely bigger. Right away we picked out which mountain’s we hoped the pass wasn’t going over.

The lakes were gorgeous. Sparkly blue with contrasting patchy snow lining their edges. One thing that didn’t get better here was the wind gust. My goodness did it become brutal. It ripped through here so hard that there was whitecaps on the lakes. When it really whipped up into a frenzy you could see water being lifted up and blown off the surface of the lake. I had contemplated taking some layers off before we climbed up to the lakes, but I quickly changed my mind upon reaching the top.

We began our path around the first lake. It was a mixture of route finding, bouldering, trail, and snow traverses. One would meld right into the next. Daaamn led the way as I he had more experience in all those categories.

This went on for all three lakes in the basin. Some of it got super super sketchy. There were multiple times where the snow traverses went across the mountain side at a very step angle. Since this wasn’t a high trafficked trail there was little to no boot track which meant we were kicking steps and going from icy sun cup to sun cup. This wasn’t so much the problem as what would happen if you fell. In most cases the run out at the bottom of the snow traverse was the lake. If you fell you’d slide down the snow and off its ledge into the just above freezing water. Let’s just say each step was taken with extreme caution.

It was super slow going. When we reached the third lake we knew we had to turn and go straight up the mountain from there. This is right around the time that the maximum speed of the wind hit us full force and would do so until we were well over the pass and down the other side.

When I say it was windy I don’t mean our jackets were flapping in the wind. I mean it would slam into me and move five feet past where I intended to stop my forward progress. God forbid you turned a little sideways and the wind caught your pack. Game over. You would get whipped every which way. Total loss of control. You just better hoped you were locked on solid ground when this happened. It was quite nerve racking considering what we were about to do.

When we came to the point where the map showed we needed to begin our ascent we hunkered down behind a minivan sized boulder and prepared ourselves. We drank some water and ate some snacks. We battened down the hatches on our packs. I even said a little prayer. There was no turning back. I had to muster up the strength and courage to do this. It wasn’t so much the bouldering, but the wind.

Imagine if you can, climbing over washing machine size rocks. Each one is shaped differently and juxtaposed all over a vertical incline. You have a bag on your back weighting thirty pounds. You need to step, climb, slide, and grapple these rocks all while the wind, which is hitting 40-60 mph, is smashing into you. Now imagine you’re mid step between these awkward shaped boulders and only one foot and one hand is touching something solid when the wind grabs you. You have no control over which way you fall. You just better hope you get a hold of something before you fall between the rocks or god forbid your head bounces off of one. This is what was going through my mind with each step for the one mile vertical climb to the pass. I did check my pants afterwards and they were still clean.

Daaamn led the way as we disembarked. Just as with the earlier route finding. We’d get on course. Look ahead and pick a point on the path and then climb to it. It was a bit more difficult because we’d say, “Ok we have to hike to that boulder over there.” And then point. Well when the mountain side is full of boulders it can be a little hard to tell one from another.

We did our best and made slow progress. We got off course pretty easily because there was never a direct path. We were always going around impassable rocks which slowed us down a lot. Daaamn did a great job at thinking twenty rocks ahead and got us from A to B to C and so on.

After an hour and half we were just below the pass. The wind had pretty much turned into a hurricane at this point. It was out of control. We were just shy of 13,000 feet. A height I didn’t expect to be at again on the PCT and it just so happened to be on an exposed rocky ridge in a wind storm.

We crossed over the saddle, but at the wrong section which didn’t matter much. We dropped down into a perfect cubby hole that blocked nearly all the wind. I all but kissed the ground. We made it through the hard part. I immediately chowed down. All of a sudden I was starving. We laughed in a way that you do after you know you did something stupid, but made it out alive. All while we sat there the wind howled over the crack that led into our hide away. My god was I was glad to be on this side of the pass.

The show wasn’t over yet. From where we sat was a massive snow traverse on very steep rocky terrain. Daaamn led the way once again. The snow was sun cupped which was good, but also icy because this side of the mountain was in the shade. The run out from this fall was a 200 foot slide down steep ice into a rock gravel run out below. Don’t slip was the trick. I all but crawled across this until I reached the boulders on the other side. From there it was more of what we just did coming up the other side except there was no wind. It was still slow going as we had to make sure our footing was stable, but generally I felt much more confident here.

When we reached the bottom of this rock scramble it looked as if we landed on Mars. We entered a wide open red sand and rocky basin. It felt out of this world. Nothing like what we had hiked through in the past week. I was just thankful that it was easy walking.

From there on we dipped down into a rocky valley and followed it all the way down to where the tree line began. Back to familiar territory. This started the insane amount of switchbacks. Something we both welcomed after the bouldering our body took a beating from all morning. From the switchbacks we could see a number lakes and even the parking lot we were aiming for far down below.

A little over a mile from the parking lot we came to a creek crossing that looked like we’d have to get wet in. Just down stream was a series of logs that looked like they may work as a bridge. Upon closer inspection they were very wet and just above a small waterfall. I bulked and said I didn’t think they were a good option. Daaamn disagreed. I told him I’d do it if he did it first for which he said, “No problem.”  He lined himself up and stepped to the first log. When he stepped to the second log which was a stump, all hell broke loose.

Down he went. Well sort of. Both legs, each on a different log went out from underneath him. This caused him to fall forwards onto some rocks. He caught himself with his hands, but now found him self balancing above the water. When all this happened his right leg over extended and went fully straight locking up his leg. Immediate pain shot through his body and he barely managed to make it back to land. He was seriously hurt.

He dropped down into the bushes nearby and grunted in pain and frustration. This was not good. I gave him his space to let it settle then asked what he needed me to do. For the time being, nothing.

From the looks of it he severely pulled his hamstring. He could barely put any weight on the leg. If he tried to straighten it, it shot pain down his leg and up his back. We sat there for ten minutes trying to figure out what to do. We had one mile to the parking lot. Then we had to find a hitch into town which was 40 miles away. There was also no cell service up here in the mountains so we couldn’t even call if we had someone to call.

In the end Daaamn bucked up and said he could hike out. It wasn’t going to be pretty or pain free, but he’d mange. Even if it took all afternoon.

I let him lead the way. I didn’t want to leave his side incase he took a spill or the pain got worse and he couldn’t move. We took it super slow, but even that, given the terrain … caused serious pain.

With about 0.4 miles to the parking lot Daaamn told me to leave him and get down there quick to try to find a ride by the time he got there. I didn’t think I could work magic like that, but agreed it was the best plan. He was moving along fine enough that he’d make it on his own. The quicker we got into town the better off he’d be.

I took off at a quick pace down the trail. I wanted to be safe though and not rush too quickly. I didn’t need to get hurt as well.

When I reached the trailhead parking lot I immediately went on the hunt. This trailhead had campsites that people could rent by the night. They were all in use and people were setting up for the weekend. There was lite traffic flow rolling through the roundabout at the trailhead. I was going to jump in front of every car that drove by. On my way to the roundabout I passed an older lady parked sitting in her jeep. I walked by her, but after making it 100 yards I decided to turn back and ask her for a ride.

I walked up to her window and waved to her. She rolled down the window and said hello and asked what’s up. I explained to her about Daaamn’s injury and asked if she was heading to Bishop. It turned out she was here waiting on another hiker and said she be more than happy to give us a ride as well. The trail provides.

She hopped out of her jeep and let me put my pack in the back. The other hiker was supposed to show up within twenty minutes and it would probably take the same amount of time for Daaamn to get there. Me and the lady, whose name was Debbie, stood around and chatted until Daaamn strolled in.

Debbie was an eight year resident of Bishop having lived all over before retiring here. She started trail angeling as soon as she put down roots. She was quite the character. Her dangly pot leaf earrings was a dead give away.

Daaamn came hobbling in and was happy to see I found a ride that quickly. Debbie cleared the front seat for him to sit down. She had two border collie mixes that were super hyper and ran the backseat. The hiker she was waiting for never showed, even after giving her an extra twenty minutes. Debbie said it was her loss as we pulled out.

The ride into town was long, but pleasant. Debbie gave us the run down of the town and her life’s story. She had led groups of youth into the Sierra when she was only 12 years old! Back when you could get away with things like that. The dogs were a bit rambunctious at first, but eventually settled down and both managed to curl up on my lap.

She drove us right to the post office and waited for us while we picked up our resupply boxes. She then drove us over to The Hostel California (a.k.a. THC 🤣🤦‍♂️) where we’d be staying for two nights. I got her number and she said to give her a ring for a ride back to trail. That was easy.

The Hostel California was quite the spot. A perfect California oasis. As soon as we walked up to the front door we found Squirrel and Lenny lounging in the grass sipping on some beer. The gang was back together.

The property had multiple bunk houses spread around the grounds. There was a huge outdoor area with a smoking (pot) lounge with tons of couches, a hiker box room, and a pile of loner cloths. The main building had a living room with tons of seating, a TV with a VCR, and a massive catalog old old VHS tapes. The kitchen was grand with plenty of space to prepare meals and a dining room to seat a small army. Lastly the outside lounging area, which included a tree of life, had pot plants lining the fence and scattered around the yard. It was pick and smoke what you want. Where was I?!

Our bunks were located in the PCT House which slept 13. I had the top bunk and Daaamn the lower. To my surprise the bed was super comfortable. We dropped our gear, grabbed a shower, and did what we needed to come back later and pass out.

Back outside we met the boys and were welcomed with a six pack and a specialty beer from Belgium that we’d share for Lenny’s birthday which was a few days earlier. It went down hill quickly from here.

After the hostel beers, we walked over to the Mountain Rambler Brewery. Already feeling a good buzz from only eating trail food for seven days and housing a couple high octane beers at the hostel. It was time to grub out. I ended up with a grilled chicken sandwich with fries … and a couple more beers.

Now that everyone was good and tanked we walked over to the bowling alley for a quick game. It was gin and tonics all the way around. They were only $5! The one and only game we played was a total shit show, but we sure had a blast.

The night was still young and we had partying left in us. It was off to the town dive bar called Rusty’s. They had cheap drinks and a pool table. When we got there it was mobbed with PCT hikers. We slowly took over the pool table and started playing doubles. Daaamn and I quickly took over the table. He stepped away to get drinks and I ended up playing a whole game against the opposing team by myself and beat them. Somehow the drunk one eye open technique worked for me that night. The place eventually got mobbed by bikers and cowboys. It was quite a mixture of people, but everyone was there for the same purpose. We were chatting everyone up.

When we finally left around midnight we tried to find some late night grub, but everything was either too far away or closed. With no other option we wandered back to the hostel and tried our best to quietly climb into our bunk bed. Which meant we weren’t quiet at all. It was a great night wrapping up an even greater week!