Back in early April, or perhaps it was even late March, my flatmate Alexis asked me if I wanted to go with her and a few other people from her program on an adventure (yes, anything and everything in New Zealand is an adventure!) out to the West Coast. She said there would be a boat tour, hiking part of a great walk, and exploring the towns of Queenstown and Wanaka. Of course I said I was in! Why would I pass down a chance to romp around New Zealand?! Sign me up.
About a week after I got back from the North Island ( and week into our second term to my parents chagrin) we got onto a tiny plane with propellers and flew a short 45 minutes (compared to almost 7 hours!) to Queenstown domestic airport. There Alexis, Drea, Alex and I pushed all our gear into a tiny forest green car and drove into QT to Nomads hostel. Somehow we were all upgraded to a more private room! Instead of about 32 beds, there were only 6 in this room. And in the end, no one even joined us. We spent the afternoon exploring the town and then hit the bars that night. But apparently nothing really happens on Saturday nights. Still, we had a lot fun with each other.
The past week the entire West Coast had been pummelled with torrential rain. Queenstown was flooded as were a lot of other places up and down the coast. Luckily we thought of talking to the DOC in regards to the trail we wanted to do (the Routburn) and if it was okay. The ladies there told us that they had heard many of the trails in the Fjordlands were flooded out and our best bet was to talk with that DOC. So early we went and drove an hour and a half to the Fjordlands DOC centre. And as was predicted, the Routburn along with every other trail in the area was closed. They had been helicoptering people out all week and it was far too dangerous to go. As we were trying to figure out what to do, a family came in that had just done a trail called the Hollyford track, and it was completely do-able! New plan! We were warned though that the weather was calling for more heavy rain that night.
The Hollyford track was just inside the national park and was fairly easy. Unfortunately we only had time now to go the 2 ½ hours to the first hut, Hidden Falls Hut. But it was better than nothing. The trail started off with a large swing bridge, the river underneath didn’t seem too swollen; there also wasn’t too many clouds in the sky. About 45 minutes in, we heard rushing water, more than was usual for a small stream. As we turned the bend we saw the trail disappear beneath and broad rushing stream. About 50 meters away from us was bridge that was above the mess, but until that the trail was all washed out. Alexis using her gazelle like legs was able to leap from rock to tree to bush to rock and finally bridge, as was Alex. But Drea and I were stuck with our shorter than the rest legs. Eventually we decided to take the sneakers off and roll up the pants. The water was freezing, but the crossing was heaps more manageable!
After that, it was easy tramping. Tons of foot bridges, Drea counted about 100 in total. Granted, these bridges were maybe 2 feet long, but there were at least 20 significant bridges. We saw some sweet waterfalls and the river we walked besides was beautiful!
We got to the hut just as the sun was setting. I chopped/sawed some big sticks and we tried to get a fire started, but it was far to damp. While we ate our meagre dinner of 2 minute noodles, we talked about our game plan.
Alexis: “Guys, I won’t be able to sleep tonight, you know me. Camping equals not sleeping. And I really don’t want to tramp in the rain”
Alex: “I don’t think anyone does...”
Alexis: “Right, so as soon as I hear rain we are hiking out of here. I don’t care if its 6 am or even 5 am.”
Drea and I: “Umm... okay, sure?”
So after a few hours of cards and tea, off to bed we went.
***Sound of Rain***
Alexis: “GUYS! It’s raining!”
Alex: “Are you sure it isn’t the wind?”
Alexis: “Of course I’m sure, let’s go. Time to pack up”
Drea: “What time is it?”
Alex: “2 am”
Me: “Hell no.”
Alexis: “I guess 2 am is pretty early”
So about 3 hours later we all get up and start making breakfast. At this point it was pouring and getting worse by the minute. But it was super dark outside and we only had 2 headlamps. We finally decided to leave when it was a bit lighter out. Finally by 8 am it was bright enough that we could walk without tripping over each other.
Even though we were all bundled up in fleeces and raincoats, the rain was unceasing! Within a half hour my jacket lost its awesome water repelling abilities and I quickly began absorbing water like it was my job. Soon after that my shoes followed suit. I guess it wasn’t that bad though, I mean I was cold anyway so the wetness didn’t really matter. And with my shoes now soaked I didn’t have to actively avoid puddles and could plough through them without care. We were all worried about the state of the stream that was flooded over the path already the day prior, but surprisingly it was seemingly no worse! Getting back to that car was perhaps one of the best things ever! And thanks to Alexis’ breakneck walking speed (which was pretty much jogging for Drea and I) we made it back in about 2 hours!
After stripping down in a port-a-potty and changing into somewhat dry clothes, we got on our way to Milford Sound for our much awaited boat tour.
The drive was incredible. The rain had somewhat abated and the clouds were dissipating. All along the steep cliffs by the road, dozens of tiny braided waterfalls were appearing. It was a sight to see for sure. The road that leads to the Sound encounters a huge blockage of solid cliff. Back in the 40’s or so a crew blasted their way through creating a one lane tunnel. The tunnel is so long that there is a traffic light that aids in telling motorists when it’s their turn to drive through. Each pass is about 15 minutes elapsed. One across its a series of switchbacks down the mountain and into the ‘valley’ area.
The town of Milford is hardly a town because it seems like no one lives there. It’s a hotel (I think...) an airstrip, a small sandwich shop and of course the dock area. We arrived just in time to make some sandwiches out of squished bread and peanut butter and jelly. While we were sitting there by our tiny car a Kea appeared. Keas are awesome parrots that just sorta hop around bugging people and scrounging for food. You have to be careful because they’ll steal or eat your sneakers and anything else rubber! We saw one or two chewing at the rubber lining of windshields and of course tires.
The boat cruise was really nice. We just sat on the deck with our cameras while the boat started off into the sound and guided us through the many waterfalls and mountains that dotted the landscape. The prominent feature is Mitre Peak, which you see right as you start off from the dock. It’s named so apparently because of its resemblance to the hat of the Pope (a Mitre). Personally, I couldn’t really see it. Perhaps because I couldn’t imagine a mitre or maybe because I couldn’t see the mountain through the mist and rain. Even though it was misty and cloudy, Milford was still as beautiful as ever. I dare to say even more so because mist hanging lazily and almost dreadfully over the place. Like a thick wool blanket, softening the harshness of the place. The rain also added rainbows. I think that in that 2 hour tour I saw more rainbows than I’ve seen in the past 10 years or so. The copious amounts of rain also added so many waterfalls and strengthened the ones that exist even in dry times. It was so dreamy boating through Milford, with the fog, sun shining at times through the thick clouds creating rainbow, the braided falls covering the rock faces. When we got to the mouth of the sound, you could see the raging Tasman sea with a storm coming in. The waves were huge and angry, hitting our boat splashing up the sides. On our way back, we were greeted with a huge brilliant rainbow over the boat station. It was a lovely tour indeed.
Milford Sound is an amazing place ecologically. A fjord is a valley greeted by glaciers next to the ocean. It’s characterized by the steep slopes of jagged rocks that plunge deep into the sea. At some points, Milford was 1,200 feet deep! In combination with the immense depth and huge amounts of fresh water literally pouring in from the surrounding country side, there is a distinct layer of fresh and salt water. In the fresh water, you find eels and fish, then like a cement wall there are salt water creatures. In the nooks and crannies of the sound you find rare black corals thriving. In the sound are dolphins, penguins, seals and sometimes whales I heard. But all we saw was one lone, tired looking fur seal nestled in the rocks.
That night we drove all the way from Milford Sound, past Queenstown and another hour north to Wanaka. By the time we got into town, it was nearing 2 am. Knowing this was going to be the case, we called and cancelled our campsite hours ago and planned on just camping on the side of the road. There was really no where outside of Wanaka, so we drove through to what we through was outside the town limits. We kept driving and driving getting more and more tired. Finally we saw a boat launch that seemed off the beaten trail. There were a few no camping signs, but we were desperate and figured it was so late and we’d be off with the sun into town, so there was not much to worry about. We were as discrete as possible, using only one headlamp when absolutely necessary. We tried to conceal our car and camp under/behind a large tree.
A few hours later, I got a bad feeling and woke up. I was getting ready to get back to sleep when I heard a car rolling down the road. Bad. Very bad. I woke Alexis up as the car pulled up beside us. A light shone in our tent. But unlike last time (in the North Island) there was a voice.
Man: “Hullo in there! Anyone home?”
Me: “Yes, is there a problem?”
Man: “Yup, you’re camping here. Didn’t you see the signs?”
Alexis: “No, we came in just a few hours ago”
Me: “Yea, we had been driving for a while and needed a place to sleep. Sorry.”
Man: “Well you picked the wrong place. You see this lake is our drinking water, we don’t want anyone polluting it, there aren’t any bathrooms here. You all need to pack up and leave. I could fine you up to $500 each for this. But I won’t. You need to get out of city limits and sleep in your car. If I catch your, or the cops do, you won’t be so lucky a second time.”
Us: “Yes sir.”
As soon as he left, we all packed up. Still have no idea if he was legit or not, a cop, a ranger, a person. Who knows? We never got out of the tent to see him. But out of town we went, grudgingly. And wouldn’t you know it, just a few feet from where we were camping on the side of the entrance was a port-a-potty. Bleh.
That morning the first order of business was to find a place to sleep that night. The I-site gave us a deal on a mom and pops hostel down the road where we could put our stuff right away. It was a cute little place, and there were only two people in the entire place yet. The plan was to kayak in Lake Wanaka for a hour or so then do a hike nearby. But apparently it was ‘too windy’ to go kayaking, so we scratched that plan. The two hikes nearby that were within reason were Iron Hill (really easy) or Mount Roy (medium difficulty). We headed back to the hostel to get ready.
There we met our bunk mates. There was Brandon and Zach, the two Americans who had been volunteering in the North Island and now travelling, and the ‘Chec guy’. A tall built guy in his late 20’s that meant business. Brandon was a recent college graduate in his year before grad school as an enviro major and Zach was in his gap year between high school and college. The Chec guy was planning on climbing Mt. Roy as well, but he disappeared before we could plan anything with him. The boys weren’t sure what they were doing. So we got ready and headed out to the store to pick up some lunch and then headed off. Mt. Roy was a few miles outside of town, and as we were driving we saw two people hitching. We decided to pick them up, and low and behold... the Americans. We convinced them to climb Mt. Roy with us and our party of 4 became a group of 6.
Mt. Roy was on a sheep farm, though it wasn’t being grazed at the time. It seemed to be a pretty short hike straight up, nothing to hard... famous last words?? Of course that was the day I got stomach cramps and what turned out to be a few miles of switch backs climbing practically the same height of Mt. Fyffe really kicked my butt. But let me tell you, the view was amazing and totally worth it. Not much to see on the way up, but the whole area just opened up. You could see Lake Wanaka spreading out into the mountains with Aspiring Peak and Aspiring National Park in the near North. We didn’t have much time at the summit because the sun was setting and we set off down the mountain at a quick pace.
Almost to the summit!
Back at the hostel, we met up with the Chec who had already done Mt. Roy and the neighbouring peak! We didn’t even see him. He told us that he basically ran the entire thing. Most people I wouldn’t have believed, but this guy was in amazing shape and he looked like he could have climbed any mountain in about twelve minute’s time easily. Incredible. That night was spent cooking an awesome pasta dinner and just sitting around with the other people that had filled up the hostel while we were gone. The thing I love about hostels are the people. They’re all similar in the fact that they want to travel, explore, grow, learn and have fun. But everyone is so different with their culture. There was a fellow who I think was a Spaniard who couldn’t afford a car. So he just strapped everything on his bike and back and rode around! Bananas.
We had an early morning because we had to get the car back and catch our plane home early. But what an incredible experience our West Coast had been! From the bars of Queenstown, to the flooded trails of the Hollyford and the waterfall covered cliffs of the Milford Sound. Then illegally camping in Wanaka and climbing mountains with strangers. What a crazy couple of days indeed.
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