A Wet Trip On The Famous Routeburn Track
My friend from Brisbane, that I had met whilst we both were doing an 8 week contract
at the Cooktown Hospital one winter, decided to come across to New Zealand and hike the famous Routeburn Track, of course I couldn't let her do it alone.We had had a great eight weeks together at Cooktown 'Hash House Harriers' where we plunged into the Australian bush, following pieces of toilet paper attached to trees, ending up at a fellow Harrier's yard, whilst he/she stumbled off to rescue a pot of Cooktown stew and arrive back still jogging with it under his sweaty armpit.
We climbed Mt Cook, the highest Mountain in the region which saved me climbing 'Mt Cook' at home which is about 3300m higher than the Cooktown model. We hiked to isolated beaches, explored WW11 relics along the isolated coast line and enjoyed fun meals together.
We then planned to walk the Routeburn track together and established that Feb was the best time for weather, generally being settled at that time and warm enough for an Aussie to handle, me being a Kiwi I was used to diverse weather conditions. Her daughter and partner also decided to accompany her which was great, the only small problem being that these three delightful people didn't eat anything that had been killed!!!!
Now here was a challenge, I was pretty excited about them coming to our lovely town and planned lots of sightseeing and fun places to explore before our 3 day 2 night hike. I sat in the sun and devoured vegan recipe books, jotted own menus, trialled vegan dishes on my carnivore shoot anything with 4 legs husband. In fact even the poor old shag that settled on a jetty pole above the lake in front of our house got plugged as they allegedly stole our fish. Wow - heavy stuff, it took a few years of convincing that the shags were more entitled to the fish than us.
Anyhow back to the Routeburn Track. Having walked it many times in soaring temperatures, snow, sleet, rain, and high winds, I launched into booking beds, coach trips to and from the track, organising dehydrated food and stocking my fridge with anything which was grain, pasta, had a root system or pips.
After decking out my friends with suitable beanies, gloves and thermals that are simply not on the list of what you need to wear in Brisbane, departure day arrived, up early and boarded a bus to the 'Divide' (502m) on the Milford Road, the start of the Routeburn Track walking West to East.
The weather forecast was grim and sadly it never reads wrong, despite what the cynics say. Unfolding ourselves out of the bus we tugged our wet weather gear on and disappeared into the thick beech forest on a steadily up hill climb to Key Summit 980m, at Key Summit the general rule of thumb is to lounge around for hours drenched in 180degree mountains snapping off more photos than you need, of course we saw nothing. I didn't even want to describe what they were missing as that was like rubbing salt into a wound.
On we trundled, stopping Lake Howden for lunch, and to kill a few million sand flies, 3 hours later we arrived at Lake McKenzie Hut on the shores of Lake McKenzie. The first time I ever arrived at this hut was in the 1960s, a new one has since been built, although my memories of the old one linger and are probably grander than it was, the lake was a scum of soap suds, true everyone went down to the lake washed their bodies, hair and clothes, and a fine dirty scum covered the whole mountain lake which has a very small outlet.
Since those intrepid days Fiordland National Park and Mount Aspiring National Park have been formed and the Department of Conservation have management of the parks, plus people today are totally aware of the devastation of leaving that trail of human debris behind.
We fortunately got a view of the lake and walked a little way around it, the next morning when we scrambled over the rocks and rubble, and small waterfalls on the steep switch back track out of the valley and onto the Hollyford Face, we did get glimpses of the valley floor far below and it was spectacular, with clouds swirling around the Mountain peaks, photos were snapped in-between buckets full of rain falling.
The alpine flowers thriving in this environment and the mosses and ferns were alive and well. We wound our way around the Hollyford Face head first into the wind and rain, as the shelter on the top appeared so did our spirits - a hot cup-a-soup with crackers and some dried fruit and nuts which the chocolate had long been picked out - yum. We rested a bit, swapped stories with other trampers as they are called in New Zealand, whilst the young ones of the party strode off up Conical Hill (1515m) for that elusive view over the Fiordland Mountains, I personally saw no need to extend myself having been there before in dry weather.
Off we hiked over the Harris Saddle (1255m) and wound out way around Lake Harris, which I had to admit looked like a grey austere rather large puddle in the slate grey mountains. I have seen this Lake in it's many moods, the one I like most is the sunny day where you can see a dragon fly buzz up the lake leaving a flies wake in its tracks. The smells of the sun warmed fell fields and the warm water trickling over the rocks into the lake have tempted us to swim in there strictly to cool off, but no Olympian strokes in those chilled waters.
The rocks were pretty slippery by now so we carefully picked our way to Routeburn Falls, aptly named after all the water that trickles or gushes down the mountain sides and gathers at the 'Falls' that spill over the hillside before dropping into the lower Routeburn Valley. The Routeburn was named in the early 1880s being the Route up the river and over the Mountains to the West Coast Greenstone or pounamu deposits that were used by the Maori people for making weapons and tools.
Routeburn Falls is a favourite place on a hot day where Mt Cook Lilies cling to the steep rocky sides of the falls and on a sunny day it is a favourite place to plunge into the chilly waters and cool off quickly. But not tonight, a quick glimpse and back to the shelter of the 40 bed hut as snow flakes were beginning to fall - this got the Aussies really excited.
The bunk room was pretty much full so we found a spot by the door, as 20 sweaty bodies in one long room can be claustrophobic. And I have an affinity with the door - first out if there is a fire - that's me. The next morning the rain was relentless with small clearances we glimpsed the mountains around us with that summer dusting of snow, which looked pretty spectacular, more so if it didn't happen to be February.
It was all down hill from here the forest was lush and green and the large beech trees sheltered us somewhat from the pelting rain. The Routeburn was roaring down the gorge pounding the huge rocks on its way out to the Dart valley far below. Three hours later we reached the end of the track on the Routeburn side, the new shelter which has been recently built was a welcoming sight.
We boarded a pre-arranged with our friend Pete, bus back to Queenstown, Pete operates an award winning Day Walks and Heli Hikes business out of Queenstown, known for his jokes, humour and knowledge he uplifted our spirits and certainly was a diversion from the sodden clothes we were silently enduring.
Pete filled us in on his new winter venture - 'Snow Shoeing' in the Mountains around Queenstown, there had been keen interest internationally and bookings were looking good so guess what, we are lined up for a shot at that, and fingers crossed for a bright sunny day.
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