Tramping Down Under

Author pauses on the shores of the Kepler Track's Lake Manapouri

Article and photos by Sue Griffith

New Zealand is one of those magical places that demands unhurried exploration. Home to miles of jaw-dropping beauty, and water so pure you can drink it from the source, it begs to be explored on foot. Hiking, or “tramping” as the Kiwi’s call it, is my favorite way to explore. Not only does it offer a chance to experience natural splendors up close, but it provides an opportunity to meet like-minded folks who share a passion for the outdoors. With only two weeks to invest down under, the biggest problem is deciding where to start.

Lake at MacKinnon Pass on Milford Track.

In 1993, the New Zealand Department of Conservation (DOC) selected what it considered the country's nine best hiking routes and developed those crown jewels into a hut and track network of premier hiking trails. Scattered around the North and South Islands, a land area the size of Colorado, these Great Walks serve as gateways to some of the best backcountry scenery in the world. Fiordlands National Park in the Te Wahipounamu UNESCO World Heritage Area of southwestern New Zealand is home to two of the Great Walks: the famous Milford Track with its stunning waterfalls and verdant valleys and the lesser-known Kepler Track featuring misty mountain tops and tussock-lined ridges. These two tracks offer a range of habitats in a single region. Problem solved.

Swing bridge at the start of the Milford Track.

The four-day, 33-mile Milford Track is the best-known of the Great Walks and requires considerable advance planning as a consequence (see www.greatwalks.co.nz). Up until 1965, the Milford was open only to fee-paying guided walkers staying in expensive, privately operated lodges. This scheme did not sit well with locals and spurred the little-known ‘Milford Freedom Walk’, a protest that led to today’s parallel system of guided and independent walkers. By chance, I met a hut warden who had taken part in that illegal 1964 hike of the Milford. A small, lean woman with time-worn features, she paused a moment remembering her teenage self of 50 years ago, then laughed as she recounted her tale. Like merry pranksters, they slept in soggy tents, forded dangerously swollen rivers clutching at hastily strung ropes, and barely persuaded a local boat owner to shuttle them back to their cars in Milford. Their bold actions convinced the DOC to revamp their fee rules and now everyone has free access to the track, paying only for accommodations. Guided walkers, or “pamper trampers”, enjoy fully serviced luxury lodges with hot showers, fluffy bedding, and gourmet meals. Independent walkers travel the same track but carry food, cooking utensils, and bedding, and stay in the more spartan DOC huts. Costs differ by a factor of ten. It was an easy choice. The Milford is a one-way track, hiked south to north. To maintain the wilderness experience, the government limits the number of trampers starting each day to 40 independent walkers and 50 guided walkers. The outfitters stage the guided walkers throughout the morning to further minimize crowding on the track. The independent walkers must advance each day to the next hut. No exceptions, not even for foul weather. A reminder to pack accordingly.

Mountain vistas along the Kepler Track.

Guided or independent, the Milford adventure begins with an unforgettable 85-minute ferry ride to the northern tip of Lake Te Anau. I braved the unprotected top deck to soak in my surroundings—knife-edged mountains dusted with fresh snow, icy spray from the lake, and but for the primitive landing at Glade Wharf, not a sign of civilization.

There are plenty of books and websites describing the natural features of the Milford Track—its spectacular river valleys, sky-scraping peaks, and breathtaking waterfalls. But what sticks in my mind isn’t found in these accounts. My memories fix on the day-to-day hut and trail experiences, those things you can’t Instagram: the 250-foot suspension bridge with just a little too much swing to it; hikers from around the globe chattering in a dozen different languages; the post-hike dips in glacier-fed waters; a late-night trip to the outhouse with an impromptu astronomy lesson when a stranger points out the Southern Cross and its pointer stars (Alpha Centauri and Beta Centauri); the nocturnal call of a lonely kiwi desperate for a mate; the eery blue-green luminescence of glow-worms tucked among forest ferns; cheeky kea, alpine parrots working in tandem to steal your food in a choreographed performance where one bird cavorts in front of you while his co-conspirator sneaks behind to grab your lunch; rivers of liquid jade, so clear you can see not just the stones on the bottoms but the mile-long trout that call it home. Now we’re talking about the finest walk in the world.

Kepler Track ridgeline.

The Kepler Track opened in 1988 to relieve pressure from the over-subscribed Milford. The 37-mile loop offers trampers more flexibility than the Milford. It can be hiked in either direction, or to a single hut and back, and offers both DOC huts and camping sites. The whole loop can be completed in three or four days.

Like the Milford, you don’t have to search long for mile by mile descriptions of the Kepler Track’s beech forests, tussock grasslands, and mountain ridges. And again, the memorable moments are the unscripted ones: tramping through the towering, Suess-like fern forests; the ranger-led nature walks full of information about the local flora and fauna; learning to carve a shallow line in the dirt to attract curious robins for an up close and personal encounter; that top-of-the-world feeling when the clouds finally clear on Mt. Luxmore’s 5,000 foot summit; surviving the 90-plus knee-numbing switchbacks on the 3,000 foot drop to the Iris Burn Hut; the backcountry outhouses set in the most stunning scenery imaginable; intense quiet and air so pure it has no scent; inky nights lit only by the moon and stars; and looking back up the mountain to see what you’ve accomplished.

The highest point on Milford Track.

The Kiwis are a friendly bunch, and the hospitality did not stop at the end of the trail. A sparsely populated country with ten times more livestock than people, over the course of my two week visit I ran into the same bus driver three times. Soon we were on a first name basis. Like so many folks I’d met, Allan was a natural-born storyteller and added a new episode each time we met. After learning I had completed the Kepler, he asked me about the trail’s notorious winds. He listened to my report of 50 mph gusts, then launched into his own tale of a Swiss hiker who had encountered 110 mph winds on the Luxmore Saddle. The hiking group turned back, but this guy figured since he had summited both Everest and K-2, he could navigate the Luxmore Saddle on his own. Indeed, he completed the track but spent four hours on hands and knees traversing the two miles of exposed saddle. By now, it felt like Allan and I were old friends.

Milford Sound greets us at the end of the track.

With so many beautiful hiking options at home, why travel halfway around the globe to hike? The cross-cultural connections. The sense of a common human language in a troubled world. The suspension of time and place. For two wonderful weeks, New Zealand embraced me and delivered a perfect adventure I hoped would never end.