Day 2, Tuesday: Darwin Canyon

Cresting the pass, interminable talus slows my progress to a crawl. I begin to contemplate a “Plan B,” and a kind stranger gives me a map. But finally I find a beautiful camp in a place I had not planned on staying in.

In the morning I spent some time slowly walking around the tarn with my camera, looking for compositions with dry braided channels in its rock studded sandy banks, to convey the desolate beauty of this place. I felt a bit like one of those distant Mars rovers, surveying a bleakly beautiful land for the first time.

I studied the ridge above me, initially confused about the actual location of the col. But soon I saw a group of young hikers descending a snowbank, so that had to be it!

Ascending that a while later, I took a diagonally sloping route up where boots had worn a shallow trench into the snow. Although only mid-morning, the snow, while still firm, was soft enough to stomp or kick secure steps into. Before long I crested the top of the col, and the upper cirque of Darwin Canyon was revealed. I took a few moments to rest and survey this scene: Mount Mendel and other sharp peaks rose far across this high bowl from me, with dwindling glaciers nestled between them. A high lake lay far below, colored a milky turquoise from glacial silt.

I began descending the steep switchbacks of the well-defined “use” trail on the southwest side of the col. As I descended the view down U-shaped Darwin Canyon opened up, revealing a chain of several lakes strung together. I passed by a couple of women hikers sitting and chatting admiring this vista—I said a brief hello, and stopped just below them to snap a pic. Turns out we later determined that one of them was my FB friend Nancy Fichtner, but neither of us realized that at that moment. Oh well, next time?!

The route down became increasingly steep and difficult for me to negotiate, including a growing amount of large talus. I passed a couple of fine camp spots next to a tumbling stream that a couple of guys I’d chatted with the previous day had mentioned to me.  A young man had spryly descended past me, and I observed he was now fishing at the nearer lake below me.

Reaching lake level, I continued onward above the shore, but this too included dispiriting sections of large talus. These huge blocks of granite were jumbled together, the size of compact and small to mid-size cars. This created a convoluted twisting three-dimensional maze, requiring me to carefully step across leg-breaking gaps, arm lever and butt slide down steep holes, or scramble/climb short steep sections, my heavy pack swaying me from side to side. Occasionally I would proceed only to encounter an impasse I could not surmount, and would have to retreat back over a tortuous path to find a higher route. I was quickly becoming exhausted.

Encountering the young man again I made a crack that he seemed to be moving across the talus like Legolas 🧝‍♂️. We chatted a bit and it turned out he was the son of the dad who’d been suffering from altitude sickness I’d encountered the day before! He introduced himself as Colin, and I confessed that due to my difficulties with the terrain I was seriously considering changing up my trip to a “Plan B” (an alternative to avoid coming back this way). On the spot he offered me his map of the new area I would be going into if so, as he and his dad no longer needed it. It was a super sweet gesture on his part which I eagerly accepted. We shook hands and parted ways.

As I worked my way down this chain of lakes, each of them had difficult sections of this talus I had to negotiate. I had thought I would make it to Evolution Lake this day, which looking at the map at home had seemed like a reasonably conservative goal. But by the time I reached the narrow isthmus between the fourth and fifth lakes I was done, and gratefully found a nice spot there to set up my camp. I had travelled less than two miles.

Rich golden hour light splashed itself across the canyon walls behind me, creating a vibrant reflection in the lake that made a nice picture. Pivoting I considered the little connecting stream flowing over a cobbled bed of rocks between these two lakes. This seemed like another attractive composition, which I framed up as the sky deepened from orange into indigo in the West.