Seascapes

After the penguin encounter we drove around Molyneux Bay and up, on foot, mostly, to the 1870 lighthouse and its incredible views of the coast and rock platforms out in the sea. Seal and sealions were all around on the rocks below. Pretty incredible.

Huge cliff next to lighthouse

View from lighthouse

Sea lions, seals below

Penguins!

Penguins!

This One Just Emerged from the Sea

Drying-Off; Acclimatizing: We Can Relate...

Later, as dusk approached, we drove out to Nugget Point, in hopes of seeing that rarest and most endangered of penguins, the yellow-eyed penguin, from behind a DOC blind. Our patience, and yet another sand-fly encounter, was repaid extravagantly as we saw eight of them, three emerging onto the beach after a day's fishing in the sea. They surface, swim up to the beach, then stand there quite a while, allowing their bodies to adjust to the vast change in temperature. Then they climb up to their nests in the bush and feed regurgitated fish to their young. What a privilege to see them!

The Catlins: Slope Point

Surf City; Click to Enlarge and See Surfers

Jurassic Log

Slope Point: As Far South As We Are Going

Slope Point, Stage Right

Stage Left

From Invercargill, we continued east along the Southern Scenic Route, throu Otara to Waipapa Point. Next was Curio Bay (surf's up), and Slope Point, the southernmost point of the New Zealand “mainland.” (We'll do some of islands some other time; maybe). It is not as deserted nor remote as Cape Reingal on the north end of the North Island. The nearby cliffs and crashing sea—the Antarctic Ocean? maps we have looked at are inconclusive—are much nearer. There are penguins about (see following posts), and that makes it Antarctic enough for us. At last we were (since Te Anau) closer to the South Pole than the Equator. At Curio Bay, among lots of other things, there is, at low tide, a fossil forest—scores of Jurassic trees that were petrified and then submerged with all the tectonic moving around.

We camped at Owaka (I think), and began the unpleasant task of eating-down the surplus of food, especially canned and freeze-dried, accumulated over the past two months. Our days in New Zealand now are numbered.

Henry the Tuatara

Southland Museum, Largest Pyramid in the Southern Hemisphere, the Book Said (built by Cheops III?) Henry; He Moved Twice While We Were Watching (this is most unusual)  

Henry Spawn The Southland Museum's main prize (other than some interesting exhibits on NZ's subantarctic islands, shipwrecks there, etc.) is a 120 year old Tuatara, Henry (see illustration). The Tuatara are a lizard remnant of the Jurrassic period, much reduced in size nowadays, but they are found on the subantarctic islands and even on the NZ mainland. Henry has recently mated (following an operation ("to his willy" the museum staffer said)) and a couple of his eleven new descendants also are pictured.

Bluff

The Road Does Not Go Ever On From Here

Bluff Deco

Bluff's Rubbish Centre (note decor)

Both Bluff and Invercargill are treated poorly in the "Footprints" guidebook we are using. We found both to be of interest, although, yes, Invercargill could use a few more trees in places. At Invercargill, we took in the Southland Museum (see following post). Bluff is out on the coast and is notable for being the southern terminus of route #1, the South Island's main highway. Some of the architecture was of interest, although most all of it faced the the giant alumininum plant across the harbor.

To Invercargill

Beach at Blue Cliffs

We packed up and left Te Anau Wednesday. It has beeen our base of operations for all three major tramps on the lower part of the island, and we have gotten to know it fairly well, especially the downtown strip, the supermarket, Fiordlands Cinema, and the small but wonderful Te Anau public library.

From Te Anau we took the “Southern Scenic Route” south. It is the only road, but it is generally scenic, especially if you like hills, grass and sheep. En route we viewed Lake Manipouri, Te Anau's big neighbor, saw Tuatapere, from which the cruises to Doubtful Sound depart (next time!), and stopped briefly at Blue Cliff Beach, from which the brand new Hump Ridge Tramp departs into the more inaccessible regions of Fiordlands. The beach at Blue Cliffs featured views of distant Stewart Island as well as the largest beach pebbles I have ever seen.

We drove on, finally reaching the south coast, and camped at a crummy holiday park near Invercargill beach. At least it was cheap.

Kepler Tramp: High Road/Low Road

We divided forces for the Kepler Tramp. Vicki's knees needed a lighter work-out and definitely not the 3,000 foot ascent to the Kepler's Luxmore Hut. So, on Tuesday, she did the lower, level part of the tramp, from Rainbow Reach to the Moturau Hut, over-nighting there, and returning to Te Anau on Wednesday. This is the third or last day of the tramp.

At the same time, I did the first day of the tramp, to Luxmore Hut, and ultimately, to Luxmore Summit, and back. I took the Kepler water taxi across the lake to save 5km and then started up the unrelenting climb to the hut. I have never seen such a trail. Never very steep, but always up, even the bridges. It was the standard, groomed DOC Great Walk track, gutters on both sides, wide enough to walk two-abreast, stair-cased in the steep or washed-out areas, then board-walked across the more sensitive parts of the tussock. I arrived at the hut a mere 4 hours after departure, just in time to see the heli landing, and 30 minutes less than the “standard” DOC posts at every track. (These standards are set by Hamish MacHaste, NZ's 1000 meter record holder).

After check-in and a quick lunch at the hut, I decided to continue on to the Luxmore summit. It was a fine if blustery day, but clouds and drizzle were predicted for the afternoon and next day. So, after lightening my pack a bit at the hut, I proceeded on the next mile or two, another 400 meters up, to the summit. The last bit was rocky outcrop, but even there was a discernible DOC path right to the top. The crux of the route was simply not getting blown off. I lingered, took a number of pix, and reflected with satisfaction on the 4,000 feet I had climbed between 9AM and 3 PM. I don't think I have covered that much altitude in a day since the 1980s. There was energy left, so, after a brief rest at the hut, I walked out to the Luxmore Cave, a nascent, unimproved (no trail, no lighting, no signage) cave, a hundred meters long, on Mt. Luxmore.

The evening featured pleasant conversation with a Munich couple whose travels the last several months closely tracked our own. They were in Agra and Pushkar when we were, also in Bangkok, also on the Abel Tasman, etc.

I got up early the next morning, hiked down quickly, caught the 9:30 water taxi back to Te Anau, and met Vicki at the library.

A DOC Heli Lands at Luxmore Hut Just as I Arrive

Luxmore Summit from the Kepler Track

Summit View Toward Te Anau

Self-Portrait

Remedial Routeburn

Mirror Lakes; Click to Englarge and Read the Clever DOC Sign in the Center

Christina Peak, from Key Summit

Another Peak in the Vicinity

Aotearoa: The Land of the Long White Cloud

Sunday morning I took the TrackNet bus up from Te Anau up to the Divide to fetch the Bongo. It was a fine day, some high clouds, so from the Divide I hiked up to Key Summit, an off-shoot of the Routeburn, to see some of the things we missed on the first rainy down out.

Routeburn Tramp; Or, There and Back Again Via Bus

The Routeburn Track, another of New Zealand's “Great Walks,” encompasses parts of two national parks, Fiordlands and Mt. Aspiring, and, like most mountainous regions, there are places you can't get to from here. Whether you do the Routeburn east to west or west to east, you are still faced with a 350km ride, normally via bus, back to your starting point. Having already done the last day's part of the Routeburn as a day hike earlier in the month, we had hoped to avoid the bus trip with a little back-tracking. Thus, we thought we would do the first day from the Divide to Mackenzie Hut, then cross the pass and stay at Routeburn Falls Hut; and then, having already done the rest of the tramp, back-track to Mackenzie and then back out to the Divide, where the Bongo was parked. No bus ride. Clever. Except that the second day, Lake Mackenzie to Routeburn Falls, across the pass, was much harder than we anticipated. The Routeburn is a “moderate” track (not “easy”), and the pass section, virtually the whole second day, was rough alpine trail, not the groomed DOC track to which we have grown accustomed. It was particularly rough on Vicki's knees, which don't like the rockier alpine paths, boulders, downed trees, stream crossings, and such. Add to this it rained most of the first day and all of the second, and we saw little of the advertised alpine scenery. By the time we reached the Falls Hut late Friday afternoon, we had resolved to continue on to the track's end, an easier downhill trail to Routeburn Shelter, and do the bus return, via Queenstown, to Te Anau; and later, just me, back to the Divide to pick up the Bongo. We did get to see a bit of the alpine stuff, peaks and glaciers and such, on the way out, the third day. And despite the white-outs and rain, we saw some interesting sights the second day, a helicopter landing in the white-out, tarns, waterfalls, alpine flora, and so. Tree-line, bush-line here, is only about 1000m. (I observe, FWIW, that there are many bushes above bush-line, but no trees). And we met and broke bread with more nice people, lots of Kiwis, two Americans, two Canadians, a Finn and an Ozzie. The Ozzie explained the Oz thing about Australia to me. The beech forests were rather better on the Mt. Aspiring side, we thought, which we had already seen (Lothlorien), and it was noticeably drier there. Several streams and one big waterfall were already gone since our last walk, two weeks before. There also were no sand-flies on the east side. The Canadian couple, very experienced younger trekkers who were coming off both the Greenstone and Routeburn tramps, agreed that Alaskan mosquitoes were far preferable to Kiwi sand- flies. You can at least see the Alaskan bugs and occasionally bring one down. The highlight of the tramp, at least for me, was the very entertaining hut warden at Mackenzie, who gave us useful information about the granite worms and also about predicting local weather. “If you can see Mt. Dunston out that window, it will soon rain; if you can not see Mt. Dunston out that window, it is raining.” The bus rides from Routeburn Shelter to Te Anau afforded opportunities to briefly revisit Glenorchy, Lake Wakatipu, Queenstown (a lay-over), and Mossburn (the deer capital of New Zealand). Just north of Mossburn we were treated to a double rainbow. I had seen a triple rainbow before—in Missoula, of course—but the double was still unusual enough to be of interest. The bus and other tourist transportation in these parts, and throughout NZ, is excellent. Mostly it is private, but very affordable, and goes just about everywhere. In Fiordlands we have ridden TrackNet several times, all around Milford, Te Anau, and Queenstown. We met one Ozzie family that got off the four-day Milford Tramp at 2 PM, immediately caught the boat to Milford Sound, the 2:30 TrackNet bus back to Te Anau and then Queenstown airport for their flight back to Sydney that evening. They were perfectly confident of the connections, said they'd done this sort of thing many times. With enough time, one could really do most all of NZ without a car.

The Mackenzie Hut, Vicki Stepping Out into the Rain Earland Falls, 182m, and a Really Nasty Over-Hang Strangely, the Heli Was Not Visible in My Pix of Its Landing and Taking-Off in the White-Out at the Bottom of the Canyon The Drying Rack at Routeburn Falls Hut; Everyone Was Soaked On the Way to the Routeburn Shelter Double Rainbow Near Mossburn, From the Bus 

Hollyford Camp

Gunn's Camp (aka Hollyford) is 7km off the road from Te Anau to Milford Sound. There's a general store, a museum (!), a number of interesting cabins for hire, an H-bomb, probably the oldest working petrol pump in NZ, and lots of signage. I love eccentrics. From a safe distance. We camped, as it were, at the Divide.

Gunn's Camp Only Petrol Between Te Anau and Milford Sound Bay of Biscay, 12,740km New Zealand is Nuclear-Free

Milford Again

On the Milford Road

Peak and Glacier

A Grand Canyon, or More Like Yosemite

The Homer Tunnel, a Kilometer Long, One Lane, Just Big Enough for Tour Buses

Since we were embarking on the Routeburn Tramp from the Divide, we thought we'd just drive on another 50km and see Milford Sound again and all the fine scenery at leisure.

January 27, 2009—Te Anau

I did it! I did not have to be rescued by helicopter. I tramped (the correct Kiwi word) the four days of the “finest walk in the world,” the Milford Trek. Considering the last 3 days were 10 miles, 10 miles with 1700 ft of ascent and 3400 ft of descent, and then 12 miles—I am quite proud. Certainly the hardest 3 days I have done in a very long time. In Montana our limit for hiking was about 8 miles a day—we don't like to rush. Well, basically I can't be rushed—my knees just won't take rush. However, the first rest day I could hardly walk—much better now on day 3 off the tramp. It was worth it—it is a very well maintained trail, much better that ones in the Rocky Mountains. But I would only rate it as one of the finest walks in the world—not the finest.

Yesterday we had a nice half day kayak trip out into Milford Sound—which is not a sound at all, but a misnamed fiord. Again quite nice but not not as good as the build up. Milford Sound is the holy of holies in New Zealand tourism. Certainly worth doing—but I think the cruise to the end of the sound might have been better in this case. Kayaks are fun, but you can't go very far.

We start the Routeburn Trek on the 29th. It is a 3 day but we decided to backtrack and make it a four day and come out where we started. Otherwise we have to spend about $150 and 8 hours to ride 3 different buses back around to this side. We also already did most of the very last day on our day hike out of Glenorchy a week or so ago. That will only give us one rest day before we do a short two-day walk of the first part of the Kepler. But since the Routeburn is easier than the Milford, and I assume I am getting stronger, I hope that 1 day's rest will be enough.

Well, I need to go check the dryer and spend some time on the Internet at the library trying to figure out what we are doing in our 3 weeks in Hawaii other than our hike on the Kauai coast.

Kayaking on Milford Sound

Sunday it rained heavily all day at Milford Sound. We sat around at the lodge, visiting with tramp acquaintances, reading, watching waterfalls form on the cliffs above, watching those old rain drops fall. Even the internet was out of service. We had thought about taking a the shuttle into “town” to dine at the Blue Duck, the lone eating establishment in Milford Sound (there is also a motel and a defunct gas station—that's it), but opted eventually for another camper meal cooked in the lodge kitchen: Indian butter chicken, basmati rice, and a great Ozzie ginger beer, Bundaburg.

Monday dawned bright, cool, and sunny, with a few low clouds over the fiord. Vicki had scheduled us for a 7:15 AM kayak trip, so we rose quite early, packed up, ate, and shuttled down to the Sound to don our cold-water kayaking costumes (provided by the vendor, Roscoe's of Milford Sound). The change of clothing took place in a large tent (women) and outside (men), both exposed to the ravages of the worst sand fly attacks we have yet seen. The way we tramp and dress, only our hands, faces, and necks are exposed, and these are marinated daily in 100% DEET. (Viet Nam War surplus from CampMor, purchased in about 1976, I think. The stuff is powerful and goes a long way. It has removed the paint from my aluminum ice axe and other implements; but the the mosquitoes and sand flies evidently don't like it.) It is amazing how quickly one can change pants and shirts when one really needs to.

The morning kayak trip was most enjoyable, just the right length, little exertion, great vistas, no wind, and the fiord as placid as a calm lake. The only ripples were those of the passing cruise boats. (More pix when those from the disposable marine camera are developed and digitized). After another quick change and lunch at the Blue Duck, we caught the 2:30 bus to Te Anau. Normally, bus rides aren't all that great, but this one took us through Homer Tunnel and then through glacial canyons larger than any I've ever seen. The only thing NZ lacks, scenically, we have observed, is the Grand Canyon, and here we were, mile after mile, in what the Grand Canyon would look like if it were covered in rain forest and surmounted by peaks and glaciers. We're vowed to drive back to Milford Sound to see it all again, just before embarking on the Routeburn Tramp Thursday morning.

Waterfalls Forming in the Rain at Milford Sound

Milford Sound

Mitre Peak

Keas Again

Keas are the alpine parrot found on the South Island, mostly in Fiordland National Park. They are about the size of a chicken and are not flightless like some other notable Kiwi birds. Until our Milford Tramp, we had not seen one, but had heard and read plenty about them. On the Milford, we saw and heard plenty of kea, especially at Milford Sound. They are very curious, not very fearful, and will take anything not nailed down. All of the hut wardens on the Milford cautioned us to leave nothing outside the hut on the porch. The kea are particularly fond of hiking boots. One warning we saw told us that (paraphrasing) “keas typically operate in pairs; one distracting you with its clownish antics while the other goes after your wallet, your keys, camera, sunglasses....” I saw one pecking the insulation out from a car's windshield. They start calling one another at about 4 in the AM, more of a loud, prolonged, plaintive high-pitched “meow” than a “kea.” But it can't be pining for the fiords.

Keas are the alpine parrot found on the South Island, mostly in Fiordland National Park. They are about the size of a chicken and are not flightless like some other notable Kiwi birds. Until our Milford Tramp, we had not seen one, but had heard and read plenty about them. On the Milford, we saw and heard plenty of kea, especially at Milford Sound. They are very curious, not very fearful, and will take anything not nailed down. All of the hut wardens on the Milford cautioned us to leave nothing outside the hut on the porch. The kea are particularly fond of hiking boots. One warning we saw told us that (paraphrasing) “keas typically operate in pairs; one distracting you with its clownish antics while the other goes after your wallet, your keys, camera, sunglasses....” I saw one pecking the insulation out from a car's windshield. They start calling one another at about 4 in the AM, more of a loud, prolonged, plaintive high-pitched “meow” than a “kea.” But it can't be pining for the fiords.

Reflections on the Milford

The Arthur River

Sunderland Falls

Dumpling Hut

Sandfly Point, End of Tramp

I need to read up on some geology, geography and climatology. The mountains here are not very high. The highest, by far, is Mt. Cook, 12,000 feet, inland and far to the north. Yet there are all these enormous glaciers and evidence of even greater glaciers in the past. On Lake Te Anau we passed over the 45th parallel. Here in NZ, we are not nearly so far south as Missoula, MT (no glaciers), is north. And Missoula is far higher than anything here but the highest peaks. (The 45th, BTW, passes through only 3 nations: Chile, Argentina, and NZ). There is a super-abundance of moisture here and consequent rain forest. But why the ice? Not altitude, and not latitude, at least by my lights.

We were pleased to have done the Milford. Among trekkers, it has got to be on everyone's list of treks to do. For me, there was a certain monotony—same canyon features, same beech rain forest, same falls, a mildly interesting pass, and then back into the trench, more canyon features, forest and falls. Sunderland was a treat. Milford Sound, the fiord, is very scenic, by any standard, but it's not part of the tramp and one can drive one's car to see it. DOC facilities, staff, and track were, as in the past, superb. Other trails are "maintained"; DOC tracks are positively groomed.

The sand flies did live up to their billing. According to Maori legend, one of the hut wardens said, it was the Goddess of Darkness who gave us sand flies, to remind us to keep moving. Perhaps the most important thing we learned on this tramp, other than to keep moving (we already knew that!), is that the flies don't bite at night. They really don't. A gift of the Goddess of Darkness.