I went to bed around 7:30 pm last night and got up around 6:15 am this morning - a reasonable sleep again but a little cool - a sleeping bag does nothing when thermals are holding the heat next to the body. I finally unzipped the bag this morning at 5 so I could get more comfortable - much better and no different warmth-wise.
Morning sun on the mountains
Valley still in shadow
It was a perfectly, stunningly clear morning - such irony! Still, the walk out was great - 2 hours in all. It was really cold packing up. I got the 10 am bus no problems and spent the trip back chatting to the talkative young driver from Queenstown, with his Southland “r”s (they sound Irish, as opposed to some Otago people who roll their “r”s in a Scottish fashion).
On the way out
Fiordland is a very special place, especially when one makes the effort to get out into its wilder places. No photos, word, poetry or even memories can capture it - it is planet Earth before we humans started changing it.
Te Wahipounamu
Words cease. Thoughts fade.
Clouds glide above snow. Waters hiss and roar. Winds caress. Grasses bend.
Birdsong.
The sky, the land, the forest, the jagged mountains, point - space, time, eternity.
Life, a grass-seed, falling slowly into the ever-flowing stream.
At Routeburn Flats campsite. It’s (my niece) Rachel’s birthday today - I’ll post her a card tomorrow when I get back to “civilisation”. It’s funny to think - when I was her age (23), I’d just spent 10 years living in Australia and hadn’t seen any uncles, aunts or cousins during that time, and had never lived in the same town as any of them.
Glimpses across the Hollyford Valley
Hollyford Valley
I had a reasonable sleep last night, albeit somewhat broken thanks to some back pain. I got up before 7, had breakfast, packed up and got going by 8. Took about 5 ½ hours to get here. I’ll need to be walking by the same time tomorrow to be sure I make the 10am shuttle.
The walk today wasn’t too taxing - contrary to what people said last night. It was a little easier than yesterday but a bit longer too. After some of the epic walking I’ve done lately, it’s been very easy and enjoyable. There’s been a near-constant drizzle all day but no really heavy rain since last night. I didn’t see anyone along the track for the first 2 ½ hours of walking - I really felt alone in the wilderness, which was great and also a little intimidating thanks to the strong winds and rain. I got a few glimpses along the Hollyford Valley section of the track of towering, snow-clad peaks across the valley. There were some stairs just before the Harris Saddle and with my head down, approaching them from beneath, I stepped onto them before I realised there was a woman waiting at the top. I smiled at her and said “hello” but she simply glared back. I made it to the top of the stairs and smiled at the lady again but she simply continued glaring then, after a few seconds, said “thank you” rather pointedly and bustled off muttering curses to herself (or at me) in German.
A bit further along the track, past the saddle, I encountered a New Zealand couple walking up to the saddle for the day. The woman asked me what it was like along the Hollyford Valley section - were there steep drop-offs from the path? She said she was planning to do the whole track the next day, but was afraid of heights and wasn’t sure about that section. I said I didn’t think it’d be a problem, that the path was well-made. I’m not sure if she was completely convinced and rightly so - I’m fortunate not to suffer from vertigo, even if I have developed a very healthy respect for the laws of gravity.
Towards Mount Aspiring
Routeburn Flats from Routeburn Falls hut
The views once I passed the Harris Saddle were much clearer. Routeburn Falls hut was spectacularly placed, with the private Routeburn Falls lodge immediately behind it. This is where 5-6 people had been helicoptered out from over the past couple of days, due to an outbreak of the highly infectious Norovirus - nasty stuff that had me washing my hands constantly when camped for the night! In spite of the Falls hut’s spectacular location, I actually prefer it down here in the valley, looking across to the giant foot of the mountains - tree-clad right down to the grassy river plain. It’s pretty much stopped raining and the sun might even be trying to come out. I’m glad I’m staying here tonight - it would’ve been easy enough to walk out to the end of the track in another two hours or so - this whole area is a magical place. I felt again today, just once or twice, that being up in the mountains actually scares me a bit. I like admiring them from down here! I prefer views up to views down. Sitting outside now with time on my hands. There’s a roaring waterfall back where I came from today, fast-flowing mountain river cutting through the plain, grass moving in the wind, mountains standing silently. Another blessed place in this blessed land.
Routeburn Flats campsite
Route Burn
Routeburn Flats
Yay, it's stopped raining (sort of)!
I’m still so looking forward to getting home, but it’s interesting to consider how I’ll remember this time once it’s over. In spite of the adverse weather conditions, I’ll certainly look back on it fondly - another chapter in my book of New Zealand experiences. It’s the first time I’ve come to New Zealand and only visited the South Island, Te Wai Pounamu. Next time it’ll most likely be Te Ika o Maui, the north. Just listened to Together Alone by Crowded House - te aroha, that’s all that matters in the end.
This sacred, blessed land. When I die, my spirit will come and haunt this place - gliding through the darkness under the moss-covered trees, soaring along the light-filled valleys, laughing at the sea’s sun-sparkled waters. What overwhelming presence dwells in this place. Each mountain peak is a silent, living presence.
The shuttle bus left Queenstown at 7am, heading for Te Anau. As the bus cleared the suburbs and we found ourselves in New Zealand countryside, I felt like I could finally let my breath out, breath that I’d been holding since arriving in Queenstown the previous afternoon. I’m sure it’s a great place for a holiday, but after spending a number of weeks in quiet, quintessentially New Zealand parts of this country, Queenstown had come as quite a glitzy, overly touristy shock.
I changed shuttles in Te Anau and headed for The Divide, being the western end of the Routeburn Track, on the road to Milford Sound. After dropping almost everyone at the start of the Milford Track at Te Anau Downs, it was only the driver, Terry, myself and a girl named Jen left on the bus. Jen was on her way to visit her friend the warden at the Lake Mackenzie hut and was carrying a bottle of wine to give to him when she got there. The three of us chatted about Fiordland, New Zealand, Australia and the world as we wound our way towards our destination.
It was pouring with rain when we arrived, so I kitted up with waterproofs and set off at about 11am - Jen got herself organised quicker than me and charged off at a great pace a few minutes earlier. I decided to take it slower than usual, if for no other reason than to avoid the discomfort of sweating too profusely under my waterproof layer. Jen and Terry had agreed on the ride in that Fiordland is often at its most beautiful when it’s raining - a good attitude considering how rare clear, sunny days are in this part of the world!
Starting the track
Beech forests
Low visibility!
The walk to the Lake Mackenzie campsite took four hours and was really nice. There was hardly anyone on the track - just a handful of people coming the other way. There was almost no visibility beyond the immediate, surrounding trees, and it rained the whole way, although it eased with time. Fiordland forests really are something else - everything covered with a thick carpet of verdant green moss, light largely blocked out by the dense canopy overhead. Mirkwood. Earland Falls, along the path, was simply awesome - 174 metres high and creating its own weather patterns: walking in front of it felt like standing in a wind tunnel with someone pointing a fire hose at you - I got soaked but the waterproofs kept most of it out. Not so for a German girl I encountered there - she was wearing jeans and a fleece top and was soaked to the skin. I asked her if she was warm enough, she said no, but she’d dry out when she got to the campsite that evening. Because everything was booked out, she had to walk to Routeburn Flats, my stop for the second night. Quite a task before nightfall. I didn’t hear any reports of problems, so I assume she got there OK.
Riflemen
The highlight of the day for me was stopping for a few minutes at one stage to listen to the forest. Within a few minutes, I was surrounded by 6-7 tiny, chirping birds - Riflemen or Titipounamu. They were so cute, chirping away and hopping around. The campsite at Lake Mackenzie is wonderfully picturesque but very stony, so it was difficult to get the pegs to stay in the ground - hopefully the tent will stay up!
There’s a bit of wind and rain again now. I’ve changed into thermals and am feeling very comfy here inside the tent.
Another great thing about this hike is that I’m heading home at the end of it! The past two weeks by myself kayaking, travelling and now hiking, have ended up being a bit more of a challenge-expedition-ordeal than I expected: entirely due to the weather. It’ll just be so nice to be home again - with Nadia and Ruby and our lovely sense of belonging and togetherness.
Lake Mackenzie from campsite
My companions for the night here are a New Zealand couple, an Israeli guy Emir, Chilean Franz and Dutch Pieter - they’re good, friendly people. This place is special. I’m sitting on a little bench behind my tent now because it’s not really raining at the moment - more is forecast for tonight, though. Bits of blue sky are visible from time to time through the drifting cloud and mist.
