Tramping the Routeburn

---

Day 93 (cont): Summits and Lakes: The Divide to Lake Howden

From Milford Sound, it was a half hour bus journey to the Divide (532m) and the start of the Routeburn. The only passenger dropped off at the stop, I was feeling a bit apprehensive as I put on my backpack and set off on the gravel track. Within five minutes of starting out, it began to rain. Although not a torrential downpour, it was annoying enough to warrant me burrowing into my rucksack to retrieve some Gortex. I did pass a couple of people on their way down from the track, but otherwise the path was fairly quiet. After forty-five minutes or so of uphill tramping through beech forest, I reached the turn-off for the 'Key Summit' (918m), an optional extra side route supposedly offering great views of the rivers, lakes and mountains all around. With only a kilometre to go until I reached the hut where I would be stopping the night, I decided the additional climb would make a nice detour, and so ditching my backpack behind a tree a little way off the path, I followed the zigzagging track up the hillside, above the bush line and up to the summit. I had been optimistic that by the time I reached the top, the weather might have cleared up a bit so that I could enjoy some of the scenery. Unfortunately I had no such luck, and on reaching the top, I found myself surrounded by thick cloud, strong winds and horizontal rain, unable to see anything much beyond five metres. Although I missed out on the views, I went on the short circuit walk around the top of the summit. With the reduced visibility and noone else around, it was quite eerie as I passed alpine bogs, small mossy plants, pretty but carniverous flowers (I think they're called sundew), beech trees that had tried to adapt to alpine conditions (and subsequently only grew to about two metres tall), and a variety of lichens growing all over protruding rocks. Despite the weather and being rather cold, it was a very pleasant walk, and heading back down the hillside again I retrieved my backpack and walked the final fifteen minutes to Lake Howden.

By the time I got to the mountainside lake, it was raining quite heavily and so I was quite glad when I saw the nearby hut, where I was soon heating some water in my billy can for a well deserved cup of coffee. Other than me, there were two other solo walkers, and a group of six shell-shocked backpackers from one of the more adventurous backpacker buses that offered the Routeburn as an additional option. It turned out that they hadn't really realised what they were letting themselves in for, and were finding it a bit of a struggle, particularly since the backpacker bus hadn't really given them enough food to see them through three days of walking, and they were already working out how they should ration it.

I spent the evening at the hut, reading, and eating a nutritious combination of noodles, and cheese and biscuits (I do have some fruit and veg in my backpack somewhere). It was quite cold at the hut, particularly in the bunkroom, which being nowhere near the kitchen was devoid of all sources of heat, and so along with everyone else, I was in my sleeping bag by ten, and asleep not long after, very glad that I had packed my thermals.


Day 94: Feeling the Route burn: Lake Howden to Routeburn Falls

Up at seven, I had coffee and biscuits for breakfast before getting an early start on what would be the longest day of the three, with twenty kilometres separating Lake Howden and Routeburn Falls huts. It was a one hour walk along a path through bush to Earland Falls, an impressive waterfall 174 metres tall. I stopped to admire the falls for a little while, before crossing the bridge over the river (bridges do take all the fun out of crossing rivers on the Great Walks) and continuing on an easy uphill track for another couple of hours to the emerald green Lake MacKenzie (889m).

I had a half-hour break at Lake MacKenzie hut where I got chatting to the warden (who's spending his sixth summer up there), over tea and biscuits, before continuing on up the steep path heading up the mountainside, above the bush line and onto some more rocky and barren landscape. There had been some recent helicopter drops on the path containing rocks and gravel for track maintenance. Although I'm sure these will ultimately improve the track, they were in the meantime rather annoying obstacles as I had to climb over them, as I followed what was already a rather steep path. The weather today was much better, although there was still quite a bit of cloud around, it wasn't so bad that it prevented some rather impressive views of Lake MacKenzie and surrounding mountains from the track above.

After an hour or so of steep climbing, the track continued on a more gentle ascent, following the side of the mountain, across exposed landscape. The final half-an-hour up to Harris Saddle (1255m) was fairly steep again, but I arrived, still in good spirits, at the shelter there for a late lunch. Again, from the shelter, there was an optional extra summit, this time climbing to the top of Conical Hill (1515m), and so after a half hour break, I left my backpack in the shelter and started the very steep forty minute rocky clamber up to the top of the nearby 'hill'. There was still a bit of cloud around, which was a bit of a shame, but nonetheless there were some good views out over Lake Harris and the surrounding mountain ranges. On a clear day, you can apparently see right out over the Tasman Sea.

Back down at the shelter, I collected my backpack and began the descent from the saddle along a mountainside track, following the path of the Route burn river from it's origin at Lake Harris, and across subalpine wetlands and streams. With many other walkers starting to flag by this point, I had a second wind and found myself overtaking quite a few people as I trotted down to Routeburn Falls hut, a spectacular building, with a huge dining and cooking area, and a balcony overlooking the flats below. Next to the hut were the falls, where the river cascaded several times over huge rocks before reforming as a river and continuing it's path down into the valley below.

Having cooked dinner (instant macaroni cheese and carrots tonight), the warden came round to check everyone's hut passes. I only had an easy couple of hours to walk the next day, and not wanting to make things too easy for myself, I asked him about any possible detours. He was more than happy to suggest one, and I was subsequently in bed by ten with my alarm set for six-thirty.


Day 95: Soggy Detours: Routeburn Falls to Routeburn Shelter

I wasn't the only person to get up ridiculously early this morning so I didn't feel too bad as I disturbed the rest of people in the bunk room packing my things up. After a quick breakfast, I started the descent from the hut. Initially down large rocks and through beech forest, the path started to become less steep, with a gradual descent towards Routeburn Flats, a grassy plain crossed by the river. In less than an hour, I was at the next hut, marking the start of my detour. I was meant to be following a marked route across the river and grassy plains and up into the forest beyond. Unfortunately, I managed to miss the first marker (an orange triangle or post- walks along routes in the New Zealand countryside can become a bit like a treasure hunt), and subsequently found myself crossing the unbridged river at a rather deep point, with water soon up to my knees! Still not finding the right path, I then began the rather exciting hike across the grassy plains. This wasn't just any old grass either; this was grass in New Zealand, where the West Coast climate makes everything grow a little bit bigger than it would anywhere else. It therefore wasn't long before I found myself treading across soft boggy ground that I couldn't even see, surrounded by grass, wet from the morning dew, that seemed to be as tall as me at times. After an hour of walking close to the edge of the grassy plains, I finally saw a marker and now rather soggy, I was able to get onto the right track at last. The well-beaten track was much less exciting. Why walk in grass up to your knees, when you can be in it up to your neck?!

Following the slightly easier track, I was back in thick beech forest in no time and wading through bracken which covered the forest floor. Passing a waterfall running down the mountainside, I continued up the gentle incline, following the markers, which now I was on the right track, were a lot easier to spot. After half an hour or so, I emerged from the woods out onto a large clearing of grassland, covering soggy mossy uneven ground, interspersed with giant boulder rocks and overlooked by some fantastic snowcapped mountains to the north, and the famililar range that I'd just crossed to the south. I stopped for a little while and sat on a rock, thoroughly enjoying being well off the beaten track for once and well away from everyone else!

Unsure as to how long it should actually take to walk back to Routeburn Shelter, the end of the Routeburn track, I thought I should probably leave plenty of time rather than risk missing the only bus of the day at two o'clock. Leaving my idyllic spot in the forest, I went back the way I had walked, although this time I managed to stick to the path all the way back, which turned out to be a much quicker route! Having crossed back over the river, purposefully wading through the deepest part (well, I was already wet), I got back on the main path and started the final leg of the tramp, for the most part, alongside the river with swingbridges and footbridges crossing turquoise streams and tributaries.

Tired but quite pleased with myself, I arrived at Routeburn Shelter at one, and having finished the last of my Pringles, I settled in the shade waiting for my bus. Shortly after my arrival at the shelter, a twenty-four person guided tour group started to arrive in dribs and drabs, walking down from Routeburn Falls, I was subsequently caught up amongst tens of high-fives and clashings of trekking poles. I personally think they missed out on half the fun, not taking any of the detours, having showers in their hut, and not carrying their own gear (I'm having one of those smug moments again, and I've just realised that I have a warped sense of fun).

An hour later and I was relieved to see the bus pull up along the gravel road. I ditched my bag in the back and settled down for the three hour ride back to Queenstown. We had a half hour stop in Glenorchy to pick up some more people, which gave me just enough time to refuel on icecream and diet coke! Back in Queenstown, I stopped on the way back to the hostel to drop off my rental sleeping bag, and couldn't resist a Tofu Fergburger from the nearby burger takeaway. It certainly tasted much better without the nauseating hangover I'd had when I'd tried one the other week! Back at the hostel, I collected my things from the storage room and after a much needed shower, repacked my rucksack ready to catch a bus in the morning to Dunedin. It wasn't the same in Queenstown without my Australian drinking partners, although I think my liver was grateful, and I spent the evening on a bit of a dessert crawl going to two icecream parlours, one of them also being a chocolate shop where I had the most amazing chocolate icecream waffle cone ever (well I have just spent three days hiking...)!

---