Many years ago I did a signwriting apprenticeship in a big, busy sign shop in Cairns, Queensland. It was here that I met fellow, female apprentice and colleague, Jane Duncan. Our hyperactive fabricator, Pete Stackhouse, buzzed in and out of the workshop, craning massive pylon signs onto trucks and coordinating everything from fabrication to huge installations. A farm boy from Flinders island, Pete is one of those ‘can-do’ kinda blokes. Pete and Jane got together in between loading utes with paints and trestles and Friday night drinks at the pub. They have been together ever since and have produced two gorgeous boys- Max (aged 15) and Luka (nearly 17) We have kept in touch over the years and several visits to N.Z have had us sharing bottles of wine and laughs about the old days in North Queensland. Jane, a talented artist and yoga teacher is a kindred spirit and one of my special soul sistas!
We were sitting in the Galapagos islands when we got the idea to walk the Milford track. We thought it would be nice to do it with another family and, on a whim, I shot Jane a facebook message. “Wanna hike the Milford Track with us?” I hadn’t seen her for 10 years. She must’ve been online and I was delighted to get an instant, positive response “yes!! I’ve always wanted to do that! I just always seem to be too busy to lock it in. Would love to take the boys on the track…yes..yes..yes..yes!”
The Milford Track is managed by the Department of Conservation and must be booked 9 months ahead. DOC only allows 40 people per day to hike the Milford one-way only. Reservations opened when we were at sea and so, Jane booked the hike, accommodation, car transfers, and a loan of her dads car so she could collect us from the airport with a 4WD ready for us all to drive to Te-Anau; the small town near the start of the trail. Sitting in the Galapagos Islands with limited internet we were feeling very appreciative of Jane and Stacko!! And we were very excited to be committed to doing one of the Great Walks of NZ…..yeeeeeehhh!!
9 months and the Pacific Ocean later, here we are; the intrepid trampers (Kiwi for hikers) Pete (aka; Stacko) far left, Luka, Max, Jane, Greer, Kai, Russ and Jaiya (looking warm, dry and fresh here) just about to board the launch at Lake TeAnau to Glade Wharf and the start of the damp, Fiordland trail…
The boat trip was magnificent and we were told to make the most of the sun; apparently a sunny day in Milford is as rare as spotting a kiwi (as in the bird) in broad daylight!
From Glade Wharf to our first DOC (Department of Conservation) hut was a very cruisey, 1.5hr stroll along the Clinton River and through an elfin forest of silver beech trees. The track crosses the Clinton River on a swing bridge; our first of many suspended, rocking, mid-air gangplanks…
Below; Just near the Nealle Burn Hut on day 1. We braved the chilly, mountain water for a swim! Brain Freeze!!
The first night was very relaxing; we were celebrating Max’s 15th birthday and had only walked for 90 minutes that day! There was no freeze dried meals in sight and we lived it up with nachos, chocolate muffins and a drop of Drambuie (for which I will ever blame Pete for my new addiction of…)
The hut manager/ranger, a big, friendly giant of man took us on a tour of the hut surrounds and talked to us about alpine plants, native trees and the birds we were likely to spot during our 4 day adventure. There are 700 plant species found only in Fiordland and I would bet that he could name most of them! He showed us where to find glow worms and, just after dusk (about 10pm at 45 degrees latitude!), we tip-toed along some dank, earthy, overhanging crags and watched in silence as the underside slowly lit up like wee, magical fairy lights.
Our second day had us walking for 6 hours amongst forests, grassy flats and prairies whilst watching vaporous, wispy waterfalls feathering down both sides of the immense, glacial valley….In the forested areas, big, moist cushions of squelchy mosses and colonies of lichens in vivid greens, yellows, reds and chalky white dripped over undergrowth, dead trunks and gnarled, twisted tree roots. We traipsed over the debris from a massive avalanche from 1982 and views of MacKinnon pass (1073m) to the north came in and out of view in the misty valley ahead.
Mid afternoon we passed the deluxe Pompolona hut where the guided walkers pay a lot of money for proper beds, hot showers and catered meals. We got a glimpse of plush couches and big glass windows overlooking the valley. The guided walks are hideously expensive but make the walk accessible to many more people. With just a daypack, the walk would be that much easier. Thanks to the DOC huts, we didn’t need to carry thermarests or tents, but at times my pack still felt heavy!
Loving seeing my buddy Jane again!
We didn’t see much of Kai and Jaiya for the entire walk. Jaiya found a walking buddy in Ngaire; an 11 year old who was hiking with her super-sporty-outdoorsy family of 3 generations. Ngaire and Jaiya had a similar walking pace and chatted away the entire 54 kilometres! Kai took off with the 2 older boys Max and Luca. They were the first to arrive at each hut, which was handy because they lit the fires and saved us the best bunks!
We arrived at the Mintaro hut for our second night on the trail and received a briefing and weather update from the hut manager/ranger- we were to expect gale force winds, a moderate amount of rain and snow at around 900m the following day. Day 3 is reputed to be the toughest day on the track and we got an early night in preparation for our 500m climb and 900m descent.
The path zigzagged up the ascent and felt very manageable, but the wind was swirling and freezing and it started hailing as we approached Mackinnon pass….
An alpine garden of tree daisies, hardy cabbage trees, buttercups, eyebright, snow tussock grass and many other delightful plants fringed the trail high above the tree line and took our minds off the biting wind and tiring muscles.
Above; family photo at MacKinnon Pass; the black ninja on the left is Kai…
A large memorial cairn at the highest point of the pass honours Quintin Mackinnon and Ernest Mitchell who were employed to cut a path across the Clinton Valley way back in 1888.
We didn’t quite get snow, but the hail was hard and furious and the icy balls settled on the ground and crunched underfoot. We were happy to pile into the day-shelter hut, heat up cuppa soups and share out the chocolate to warm us up.
Below; Luka, Kai and Max braving the hail and wind as we started the descent.
It was cold but the view at Mackinnon pass was simply spectacular…
The 870m descent over 7km felt much harder than the ascent to me. I haven’t done a ton of walking after 16 months of living on a boat and the steep stairs and rocky precipitous declines were hard on untrained joints!….. Close to the bottom there was an 1.5hr return side-track to the Sutherland falls where you get up close and personal with a roaring waterfall and it’s exhilarating overspray. An hour later and we arrived at Dumpling hut- a welcome sight after a long day over the pass!
Our hut manager/ranger briefing that night was all about a forecast 120mm of rain in the next 24hr period. The ranger was worried about the kids making the river crossings on our last day walking and talked about airlifting us out. The kids liked the idea of a free helicopter ride and spent the evening telling him they couldn’t swim!
The last day was a long…and extremely wet 18km. The water level didn’t rise enough for any serious river crossings but there were plenty of streams of the variety that had entire boots submerged… The track itself was not challenging and relatively flat but my legs were sore from the previous days descent and we were all soaked to the core!
Below; Ngaire and Jaiya- best friends by the end of the trail!
The deafening roar and power of the surging Arthur River was with us for much of the water-logged day. The sheer volume of water cascading down the valley was mind-blowing…
Silver ferns gently unfurled through-out the thick, primeval jungle and the path through the forest guided us through the drizzle and a never ending enchanted garden.
Heaven was arriving at Sand-fly point. It doesn’t sound very inviting (and indeed the large, flying, kiwi midges were thick and raging) but there was a dry hut and I made a hot cup of tea, peeled off my wet jacket, overpants and thermals and got cosy and intimate with fleece pants and my wonderful down jacket!!
The Milford Sound! A short boat trip through the sound ended our Milford experience.
Above; The Milford through the eyes of a blurry go pro lens…
Next Post; The Kiwi Maui camper van experience and Tika gets hauled out…
This entry was posted in The Sail.
Fantastic in depth description! ?
You make it sound so much fun!
Congratulations guys … glad those legs held up Greer
Greetings, Greer, Jane, Peter and amazing families. I stumbled across your beautifully presented Milford Track adventure, by chance on Facebook.. Great to see that you are all as resilient as ever and what fantastic lives you all have. Personally, I feel humbled to think that Expressways, in some modest way brought you together for what is clearly a lifetime friendship. Annette and I spent three weeks in New Zealand four years ago. We visited Milford but decided not to attempt the track. Didn’t realise what a sensible decision that was until I saw your daunting presentation. We loved NZ. Incredibly beautiful, it’s like a postcard from God.
Great to see that you are still turning out such impressive paintings Jane. Good luck with your exhibition. Do you have a website?
Kind regards,
Don