Hiking the finest walk in the world
Since I can’t go anywhere due to the coronavirus pandemic, I figured why not tell some of my favorite/most memorable travel stories. Next, when I trekked New Zealand’s Milford Track; AKA, the finest walk in the world:
Whenever something is considered to be the best or finest or grandest, I always approach it with skepticism. However, when it comes to the Milford Track, it lives up to the hype as the “finest walk in the world.”
New Zealand has a robust hiking culture. With dozens of “tracks,” or extended, multi-day backpacking trips through the wilderness all over the country, many Kiwis go hiking on weekends and for fun. No track is more famous than this 53 kilometer (33.5 mile) long tramp that ends at the picturesque Milford Sound.
Three years back, in January 2017, I had the honor of hiking this grand walk over the course of four days, and ending with a boat tour of the absolutely spectacular sound. Below is my day-by-day recounting of the trip, including my thoughts, pictures, and feelings towards the trail.
Day 1 (Miles 0-1):
We start in Queenstown, a large-ish city on New Zealand’s South Island, and become acquainted with our fellow hikers. There are about 40 of us, plus four guides. I’m there with my parents and sister, Sara, and I look for anyone else my age. This would be a long walk if there weren’t other people under the age of 25. Luckily, we notice 3 or 4 other teens and I make a mental note to introduce myself later.
Around 10am, we load into a big coach bus and start a 2-hour drive to the town of Te Anau Downs. Ironically, Milford Sound (our final destination) is only about 10 miles as the crow flies, but because of the Southern Alps (the mountain range we would be hiking through), we had to drive an extra 60 miles out of the way in order to even begin going in the right direction.
Eventually though, we arrived at Te Anau Downs where we changed transportation modes and took a 45 minute long boat ride to Glade Wharf (just a tiny pier in the middle of the wilderness) where the Milford Track officially begins. We waved goodbye to the boat as it shrank away across the lake back to Te Anau Downs and started on mile one of 33.5. Luckily for us, day one was just a warm up, as we only had to hike one mile to Glade House, where we would spend the night. It’s weird because New Zealand uses the metric system, but for some reason the Milford Track is measured in miles.
There are two ways to hike the Milford Track: on a guided walk, or on your own through the Department of Conservation (New Zealand’s National Park Service). My family splurged on the guided walk, which meant slightly nicer huts, all meals prepared for you, and greater support in case of emergency. So, instead of cooking pasta over a bunsen burner in a bunk bed, we rested in private rooms while a professional chef cooked us meals. Now, normally I don’t travel like this, but hey, I was with my parents. They travel in style…
Dinner was delicious (as expected), and I wound down the evening with Sara by playing cards with the other teens on the trip. There were siblings Georgina and Matthew, from Melbourne, Australia, more siblings Natasha, Caity, and Harry, from Wellington, New Zealand, and finally Ashton, from Australia’s Gold Coast. All were here with their family. This was going to be a fun four days!
Day 2 (Miles 1-11):
They say the first day of a hike is always the hardest. That was definitely the case with the Milford Track. (Ok fine, it wasn’t technically the first day, but it was the first day with any distance).
I began the day hiking with my family. Everyone can go at their own pace, but there will always be a guide in front and at the end of the group, to ensure that no one gets left behind or lost. We were some of the last to leave breakfast, so we were at the end of the group. However, I quickly learned that my parents walk slow. That’s fine, there’s nothing wrong with that, but I’ve just gotta go a bit faster, if you know what I mean. So, with our parents approval, Sara and I ditched them and start to speed on ahead.
The track starts out flat and hugs the Clinton River for a couple miles. Easy enough, right? Well, when you’re not used to distance hiking with a large backpack, it can be a struggle. I regretted every extra pound I took. Why did I bring a deck of cards? How many pairs of socks do I need for five days? Did someone accidentally put their stuff in my pack?
Sara and I stopped at mile five for a break, not even halfway there and completely exhausted. It was only 11am, so we had lots of daylight left, but wow: I was not physically prepared for this. The guide company had given each of us a map for reference about where we were on the trail, and every milepost was marked with a green sign. It showed us only 2.5 miles from the Hirere Falls Hut, where a guide would be waiting for us with lunch. We could push on and do it!
After 1.5 hours of exhausted scramble, we made it to Hirere Falls, where I graciously accepted a cup of soup and a sandwich. Sara and I relaxed for a while and talked to Natasha, Caity, Harry, and their family over our food. Finally, as we were about to leave at 1:30pm, our parents showed up, also exhausted and ready for lunch. We bid them a quick adieu and scampered off into the wilderness with Natasha, Caity, Harry, and their family.
Hirere Falls was just over three miles from Pompolona Lodge, where we would be staying the night, so we relaxed our pace. Those last three miles were a pain though. The trail started to have a steep incline and soon we were out of the woods we had tramped through for the past five miles and higher up into the mountains.
About a mile before the lodge, we stopped for another hour or so to swim in Prairie Lake, a frigid natural watering hole that I remember dipping my toe in and instantly deciding a swim was not for me. However, Sara, Caity, and Harry seemed to enjoy themselves, so good for them.
The large hiking posse we were in for the second half of the day rolled into Pompolona Lodge at 5pm, where I took the best shower of my life and waited for my parents to finally arrive. (They did — an hour later — and we all went to dinner together and then had a good, relaxing sleep).
Day 3 (Miles 11-20):
It’s pass day. That sounds so ominous, but for the past two days, our guides have been warning us about “pass day.” The day we climb up Mackinnon Pass on the Clinton River side, and back down on the Arthur River side. Well, the day finally came. By golly, I was going to climb Mackinnon Pass.
Since I established yesterday that my parents are slower than me (again, there’s no problem with that), I hiked with Ashton and Harry after breakfast. Sara wanted to hang back with my parents, so I left her too. The first five miles were entirely uphill, so it was nice to have people to hike with. We could pass the time by listening to Bob Marley (reggae makes good hiking music, weirdly enough) and talking. That definitely made it easier.
After three miles of straight uphill, we made it to the first of 11 switchbacks and the conversation died down. At long last, after 48 hours of hearing about “the pass,” we made it. This wouldn’t be so bad. We had made it up three miles of uphill; just 11 more back and forth switchbacks and it would literally be downhill from there. We stopped for a quick water break and pressed on.
Oh my gosh, Mackinnon Pass was so hard. It took us about 1.5 hours to summit those last two miles. I lost count of the number of switchbacks around six, but all I know is that I was so happy to see the top of the ridgeline and finally finish the uphill portion of the Milford Track.
Immediately at the top of the pass, there is a memorial to Quintin Mackinnon, the first person to summit the pass and find an overland route from Te Anau Downs to the Milford track. He crossed this very same pass in 1888. I can only imagine what he was thinking as he finally reached the top of the pass. He had no designated trail, no mile markers, just his wits. But when he reached the top, I think he would have been taken aback by the view: an absolutely spectacular 360-degree panorama of nearly the entire track. For all the struggle it was to get up here (for both Mackinnon and me), it was absolutely worth it.
Our guides were waiting for us with hot chocolate and soup at the Mackinnon monument, but we could forgo this soup and press on another mile to the Pass Hut, where we would be served lunch. The guides also explained that they informally call this view the “7-second drop” because, if you wanted to reach Quintin Lodge (our accommodation for the night) really quickly, all you needed to do was step over the ledge and you’d be there before you can say “Milford Track” three times.
However, that didn’t seem terribly appealing, so I opted for the longer, 4.5-mile hike slowly down the pass wall. Harry decided to push through the extra mile to the Pass Hut right after we arrived at the Mackinnon Memorial, so Ashton and I waited for about 30 minutes. Then, I got hungry and left Ashton while he was waiting for his family, so I walked the mile towards the Pass Hut on my own.
Because we were at the top of the ridgeline, the way was flat (thank God) and had the best scenery out of the entire Milford Track. On both sides, you could see miles up and down the glacially-carved valleys. The trail meandered through some high alpine lakes and passed the geographic highest point on the track at 1154 meters (3786 feet). Although I like hiking with others, I’m glad I had this mile of solitude to just take in the view and enjoy myself. I felt like I was a member of the Fellowship on a quest to destroy the One Ring.
Twenty minutes later, a small, stout building appeared with a simple sign indicating that it was the “Pass Hut” and I stepped inside. I absolutely devoured my sandwich lunch and got two cups of soup (I was hungry, so sue me!). Our guide said we only had about 3.5 miles hiking until we reached the Quintin Lodge and it was only 12:30pm, so we had plenty of time. For some reason, they had a golf club in the Pass Hut too, so I shot a couple rocks off the cliff face while relaxing. (I think I got a hole-in-one, but there’s no way to be sure.)
I left the Pass Hut at 1pm with Ashton (who caught up with me), Harry (who waited for us), and Harry’s family. They don’t tell you when you’re hiking that going downhill is oftentimes much harder than going uphill. The last 3.5 miles took over three hours to hike, with our posse scrambling over rocks and around boulders. We didn’t mind though. We were simply there to enjoy the view and take in the wonderful fresh air of the Southern Alps.
Finally, we arrived at Quintin Lodge around 4:15pm and I was the first one in my family to get there. But my hiking day wasn’t over yet. I dropped my pack, grabbed my water bottle, and set off with Harry, Ashton, and Caity to Sutherland Falls, an “optional” 2.5-mile round trip hike that ends at the fifth highest waterfall in the world.
We got back to Quintin Lodge at 6pm and my parents still weren’t in, even without having done the optional hike, but Sara had arrived. I started becoming a little worried, but then I realized that there was nothing to be concerned about. A guide was surely with them and nothing would happen. I took an hour-long nap before dinner and they still hadn’t arrived when dinner started at 7pm. Weird. The downhill from the Pass Hut was tricky, but surely not so tricky that it would take an extra three hours. Plus, it was getting dark soon. I’d hate to have to walk that at night.
But finally, in the middle of our main course, my parents burst through the door and quickly put their packs in the room. They had made it! (I knew they would, but I was still worried). Soon after dinner, the teens played some cards and then went to bed. We had the longest day of hiking ahead of us.
Day 4 (Miles 20-33.5)
Today was our last day on the trail, but also the longest hiking distance. Also, it was raining pretty hard. Yay us! Once again, I left before my parents or sister did and hiked with Ashton and Georgina. Luckily, the trail was almost entirely flat, so we had no problems with the terrain (other than the rain).
We made it to Dumpling Hut (about two miles down the trail) and decided to take a break from the torrential downpour, even though we’d only been walking for 40 minutes. After 20 minutes, we just cut our losses and decided to tramp through the rain. I mean, we were already soaked, so there wasn’t much more we could do.
We didn’t talk or stop until we reached the Boatshed Hut, four miles from Dumpling Hut, around 11am. I was incredibly uncomfortable from walking in wet clothes, which there wasn’t anything I could do about, but I still complained. Our merry band stopped for another half hour, I changed my socks, and we were off again. However, right after we left Boatshed Hut, the weather turned and we had nice overcast weather for the rest of the day.
Ashton, Georgina, and I listened to music and laughed our way through the next 4.5 miles. The trail was flat and easy at this point, with suspension bridges criss-crossing the Arthur River. Eventually, the trail skirted the left side of Lake Ada, which, for all of our purposes, was just another body of water no different from the Clinton River from two days ago or the Arthur River, except for one notable exception: sandflies.
You see, New Zealand is one of the safest countries to go hiking in. There’s no poisonous insects or snakes, you can drink unfiltered water from just about any stream, and, as long as you stay on the trail, you’re highly unlikely to die or have anything bad happen to you. However, that doesn’t mean there aren’t nusiences, one of which is, you guessed it, the sandfly.
We first noticed them when we stopped for lunch at the Giants Gate Shelter at 2:30pm, about 4.5 miles from Boatshed Hut and four miles from the end of the trail. We sat down to eat at one of the picnic tables in front of a picturesque waterfall, but soon we were mobbed by sandflies. It was too much! We quickly packed up our food and sat on a log beside the trail, where there were less sandflies.
Still, we ate quickly and left our lunch spot quickly, so as to avoid getting bitten by any more insects. We only had four miles left. Four short miles!! Ashton, Georgina, and I were joined by one of our guides for the next two miles after lunch, where we chatted about his job guiding on the track, and his strangest experiences on the trail. He seemed to enjoy the job, and you do get to be outside all the time, so I feel like I would like guiding on the Milford Track.
Our guide decided to scamper ahead when we were two miles from the trail’s end and see who had arrived at the Sandfly Point Shelter (aptly named, I know) before us. So, us three teens were alone again and we took the final miles of the trail slowly, taking our time and loudly singing Bob Marley’s “I Shot the Sheriff!” (Don’t judge, we had been hiking for three days straight.) At long last, we arrived at the Sandfly Point Shelter and quickly went inside to avoid the sandflies.
Except, the journey wasn’t over yet! We still had to take a small boat from the shelter to the town of Milford Sound. We snapped a quick photo at the commemorative sign ending our 33.5 mile trek and boarded the boat, where we finally arrived at Mitre Peak Lodge, our final accomodation of the Milford Track experience.
My parents and Sara arrived at the lodge a few hours later and we went to dinner together. The teens and I played our usual games of cards after we ate, when one of the guides approached us and told us about something called glow worms along the side of the road. Naturally, we had to check it out, so we bundled up and walked through the dark, eyeing anything that looked, well, glowing.
Finally, out of the mist, we found them, little specks of white in a sea of black. It was quite an unusual sight, just us six teenagers under the moon with stars all over the earth. Eventually, we walked back to the lodge around midnight and settled into a deep sleep
Day 5 (Milford Sound):
The final part of the Milford Track journey was our 90-minute boat tour of the Milford Sound. At the centerpiece of the sound is Mitre Peak, an imposing 5520 feet above the water level. We sailed through the sound (which is really just a misnamed fjord) and spotted some seals, penguins, and other birds.
Then, it was time to head back to Queenstown. We boarded the big coach bus and hit the road back around the mountains, including a stop for lunch in Te Anau Downs (where we had started on the Milford Track five days earlier), and finally arrived back in Queenstown in the late afternoon. We said our goodbyes and that was that. Our journey through the Southern Alps had ended right where it started.
I won’t soon forget my adventure on the Milford Track. I still occasionally keep in contact with everyone I met on the trek, and my family and I still recount fond memories from our hike. Everyone should get out into the wilderness every once in a while, especially now during a global pandemic. Even if it isn’t a big multi-day ordeal, walking outside is one of the best things someone can do to clear their head and explore more of the natural world.
