Whenever I dreamt of walking in New Zealand it was always on the Milford Track. I would always imagine what it was like to be completely on my own, walking
through Mackinnon pass on a clear and beautiful summer day. Well now I know, except for the clear and beautiful summer day part.
Although there were Many trampers at the hut that first night, I set off at around 7:30am, while most were still making their oatmeal or catching some much needed rest from the previous days hike.
The hike is a four day walk from Glade Wharf on Lake Te Anau to Milford Sound on the South west coast of the South island. Milford sound was formed by an ancient glacier that created a deep, narrow valley that later filled when the sea level rose. The track follows the upstream flow of the Clinton river, and then continues up and over the almost 4000 foot Mackinnon pass, followed by a perilous and slippery descent and then finally passing through the valley of the Arthur river.
The walk involves staying at three Department of Conservation huts all with spectacular placement that allow for incredible vistas of the surrounding mountains. Some soaring to almost seven thousand feet, covered with fresh snow melting into hundreds of waterfalls that cascade continually down the face of the granite mountains. The walk takes almost four days to complete and covers fifty three and a half kilometers, with one full day being a climb up to the top of the McKinnon pass and then all the way down till you reach the Dumpling hut.
The second day involves a walk through ancient beech forests with the constant sounds of varied bird life ringing in your ears. As you walk along the forest path, you are often given brief vistas of the tall mountains that contantly tower over you. At times the tree lines thin as they follow the crystal clear river below and one can step out in to a clearing to see massive granite peaks casting their reflections in the water.
The second day involved the realization of my dream. After leaving the hut early before anyone else, I was once again alone in the forest, and I was heading for the beginning of the famed Mackinnon pass. I cannot completely explain this to anyone who has not walked alone in such a wild and stunning place. For me it was a feeling of complete euphoria. A religious experience in the truest sense. I walked out of the forest and into the start of the pass. If their are such things as earthly cathedrals then I was in the most holy place that nature could create. I was encompassed on either side by massive granite snow capped peaks. the warmth of the sun was melting the snow and you could hear the constant distant roar of a hundred towering waterfalls cascading down the face of these giant black granite monoliths. The path meandered through a valley of tussock grasses and smaller forested areas with a multitude of rivers fueled by the waterfalls pouring down from the mountain peaks above.
I have stood before, in some awesome man made structures that pay homage to a higher power. Buildings such as the Vatican, Notre Dame and Canturbury Cathedral all have a certain iconic force, no matter what your religious or spiritual beliefs, but for me on this day, I was alone in the most pristine and awe inspiring cathedral of them all. I was surrounded by nature in it's most primal and beautiful state, untouched by man, powerful and overwhelming and capable of turning a fifty one year old man into a child filled with wonder and complete joy. whether I was trying to call over a rare blue duck, eating a protein bar next to a hidden lake or taking ridiculous pictures of myself with the self-timer button on the camera, I was in a state of complete and utter happiness.
After arriving at the Mintaro hut, I met up again with The two young men from the Czech Republic, the Australian paramedic, a young married couple from China and Tony the sixty year old diabetic from Sheffield England, who struggled along much of the track with severe cramps in his legs. Someone I would later sit with at the top of McKinnon pass as we both sought shelter from the storm at the top of the mountain.
The next day, was the toughest and most daunting part of this particular tramp. We already new what to expect as the DOC hut warden had posted the weather on the board in the hut. We were told that the climb was going to be a difficult one due to rain, fog and cold temperatures at the top. Most (sensible) people decided to wait out the storm, as it was supposed to improve later that day. Yours truly, was not so bright. Tony set off first, about a half hour before me. I soon found him leaning against the rock face about five hundred feet up. His diabetes was affecting his leg muscles and once again he was struggling with cramping. I asked him if he wanted me to stay and climb with him, but he insisted he would be fine. After several hours of going straight up the mountain, my supposed wet weather gear was soaked through. My gloves were wet, my hands were freezing and I was walking along these switchback sections at the top of the pass with misty, cloudy views of the mountains to either side and the valley now thousands of feet below. When I finally reached the peak it was hard to see anything and it was extremely cold. At first I was a little concerned as I was shivering fairly constantly and was having trouble finding the continuation of the path. I finally located a sign that said "hut 20 minutes.". After a half hour or more I had that similar feeling of dread I have had before on some of the walks. Did I go the wrong way...should I try to go back? At this point I was freezing, soaking and needing shelter fast. There was no greater feeling in the world than finally seeing the shelter in the distance. I went inside, stripped off my wet things, changed in to long underwear and put on a new fleece top. There was no heat but momentary shelter from the rain and freezing wind was a complete luxury. After sitting there alone and wondering about Tony, in he walked. "Bloody hell that was murder," exclaimed Tony. I could only agree.
After waiting for about a half an hour, it seemed that the weather was not going to get any better. On with the wet rain gear and down the other side of the mountain I went. the descent was in some ways more challenging. Murder on the knees and very slippery. There were often awe inspiring views as the clouds and mist would some times part and you would see the valley floor below.
Finally arriving at Dumpling hut was a joyous feeling. I fired up the gas cooker and Tony and I both enjoyed a hot coffee. Hours later various other trampers began to straggle in to camp. Most added the comment that they had waited for the weather to clear, and that it had been quite nice comming over the ridge. Tony and I just glared at them and said nothing. after all where was the adventure in that.
The next day was beautiful once again. Eleven and a half miles to the boat at sand fly pointe, a short cruise through the spectacular Milford sound and then back to Te Anua for a two day recovery. Then off to do it all over again.
PHOTOS AT BOTTOM OF BLOG
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