Going Bush

Mitre Peak



Upper Eglington Valley campsite

View of Mt. Christina from Key Summit

??

Lake Marian

Henry Creek campsite

Before leaving the Te Anau area Christina and I spent three nights camping off Milford Rd. We took a cruise of Milford Sound, climbed Key Summit (a sidetrack of the Routeburn we skipped because my leg was then giving me a hard time), and I hiked to the hanging valley of Lake Marian, which was challenging but worth the effort. I will skip the narrative and just reveal that by the end - we smelled.

Kepler Track

For stomping Koopas

Atop Mt. Luxmore

The path to Iris Burn

The plot to poke me foiled by another perfect smile

The Kepler Track was built in 1988 to take some pressure off of the Routeburn and Milford. The start of the track is just a 45 minute lakeside walk from the center of Te Anau, and the track is a friendly loop, meaning no buses to catch at the end to bring us back to civilization. I heard many wonderful things about the walk, and after nearly a week off in Queenstown (population: ice cream), I was more than ready to stretch my legs again.

The bulk of the first day was spent climbing away from Lake Te Anau towards Luxmore Hut, located above the bushline an hour shy of Mt. Luxmore. We were humbled on the track by a speeding and stomping and jolly Australian man. Later, he passed us again, now coming down from the mountain, where he had stopped to drink a few beers before turning around. Some day walk! After reaching the hut, we took a sidetrip to the Luxmore Caves, at times crawling hand and knee, where we found stalactites and stalagmites and other cave decorations. I didn't enjoy the enclosed space, I may have even freaked out a few times, but I think Christina discovered her inner Gollum.

The heart of the Kepler is day two, Luxmore Hut to Iris Burn Hut, a full six hours spent above the bushline. We climbed to the peak of Mt. Luxmore, then through the Forest Burn Saddle and along the ridges and faces of the Kepler Mountains. The spectacular views were constant, and the weather cooperated (if it was still a bit cloudy). We were immersed in the mountains, and each twist revealed new ranges, giving us a full perspective of the incredible land surrounding Te Anau. Nothing in life is perfect, though, and this tramp we traveled alongside about 30 young and raucous Israelis, some of whom mistook the mountain path for their favorite Tel Aviv karaoke bar. The boys of the bunch were also quite taken by Christina, and did not hide their excitement to hear that we weren't married (why the Israeli girls showed no interest in me remains one of life's great mysteries).

The final two days were easy walks through temperate rainforest, following Lake Manapouri and, eventually the Waiau River, which is a popular spot for trout fishing. It might have seemed like a bit of a letdown after the great highs of the first half of the track, but the forest section was a relaxing counterpoint. We spent our final night at Motarau Hut, set against Lake Manapouri, where we swam in the clear and calm water until the sand flies chased us away.

Two things are happening here: I am experiencing much beauty and adventure, and these experiences are affecting me in some way. One of these things is much easier to write about than the other.

The Kepler concludes the portion of this trip that we planned in advance. I think we will now begin volunteering while continuing to tramp until the winter weather forbids it. But what exactly is next? In the words of Indiana Jones: "I don't know. I'm making this up as I go."

Routeburn

Unleashing the beast within

The gloomy alpine Lake Harris

The Orchard

We got news of the Christchurch earthquake in Te Anau, just before setting off on the Routeburn Track. I took it lightly at first, imagining a repeat of the earthquake that hit the city in September. It wasn't until we got to a TV that night, and again the next day passing through Queenstown, that I learned how terrible it was. It is very grim in New Zealand now. People are heartbroken. And it is strange because I am here as part of a tourist community, and alongside so many travellers going about their business, if I chose to, I could pretend nothing had happened. It makes me uncomfortable to continue to take experiences from the country during the disaster, but the Routeburn was what was immediately in front of us. I expect we will go to Christchurch, and I know the earthquake will inform our trip in ways I can't now see. We were relieved to talk to our friend Karen, whom we met on the Heaphy Track, and who lives with her family in Christchurch/ Sumner. She is fine, though her house was destroyed.

Meanwhile, we had two days between the Milford and the Routeburn to rest and recover, which was not nearly enough time (I don't know what kind of hiking boner I had when I booked that). We entered the Routeburn already sore, and while it was the shortest track yet, three days and 32 kilometers, it was also the most demanding, being our first major alpine crossing. The Routeburn crosses through Mount Aspiring National Park and Fiordland National Park.

After a short afternoon climb we made camp at the Routeburn Flats, near the base of Mt Somnus and Mt Nereus. By the morning it had begun to rain, and we set off in poor conditions for the longest day of the walk. We climbed the Routeburn Falls Hut, scenically located at a waterfall just below the bushline. Climbing above the bush my sweat-soaked shirt turned freezing in the cold wind, and I saw how the wrong materials, such as cotton, could quickly lead to hypothermia. The clouds grew thicker throughout the morning, and by the time we reached Harris Saddle and Conical Hill, the highest point on the Routeburn, the curtains were again closed on us. From the saddle we traversed the exposed Hollyford face, which would have been incredible under different circumstances. As it was I was relieved to drop back into the bush and see the beech forest interior. We camped at Lake Mackenzie prepared for a heavy night's rain.

In the middle of the night I was awoken by something being pulled away from my bag. I worried that someone was stealing my wallet or pack, but I found everything in place. But I then considered my food bag, which was missing. I heard rustling just outside of our tent, and despite Christina's (who had just woken up) helpful suggestion that I was dreaming the whole thing, I went outside to investigate. I suspected the kea, who is a notoriously skilled thief, but instead I spotted a large possum standing above my food bag in a bush! He froze in my flashlight, but fled when I clapped. He was not able to open my bag. At breakfast the next morning, however, I noticed a small chunk missing from my apple. It could have been the possum, I thought, but it was also small enough to just be a bruise from getting thrown around in my pack. But when I emptied the contents of my bag on the ground I created a pile of shredded carrot and celery chewed finely enough for a quality salad. The image of a sad possum chewing on the bottom of my bag, with no payoff, nearly made up for the shitty day before. I left the pile there for him to find later.

This visit from my possum spirit guide must have also shifted the weather, because the sun was now out and the sky was clear, and we were for the first time able to see the beautiful lake we camped beside. We climbed back above the bushline, this time enjoying the alpine scenery. The Orchard, an open area lined with ribbonwood trees at about 1000m, was one of many fine sights that afternoon. The track also took us directly under Earland Falls (174m) and to Lake Howden, where we enjoyed our lunch and tea. Christina even charmed her way to a free blueberry muffin from a passing-by guided walk group (~$1600/person!).

This final day on the Routeburn more than salvaged the walk, though I did strain a muscle towards the inside of my right thigh. We were scheduled to begin the Kepler only two days later, but by the mercy of the DOC we were able to push that back, so I now begin a Great Sit, as Ryan recommended to me. Time to eat some pies.