The Finest Walk in the World

The Milford Track in all its glory:

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For those of you who don't know, Rich is a bit of a fan of epic hikes (and by epic I mean 2,000 miles plus...) So after almost 18 months of travelling with him I knew that sooner or later an epic hike would be on the cards. Fortunately for me, the route of choice was epic in terms of its scenery and reputation rather than it's length - although at 4 full days it was still no mean feat for my, well, feet.

The Milford Track has been dubbed "the finest walk in the world." I haven't done that many walks (in the world or otherwise) to compare it to but as you can see from my photographic efforts above, it is pretty darn fine. A heady blend of rainforest, mountains, fjords and forests; the scenery we ambled through was breathtaking. The hike took 4 days, the first of which, at only 1.5 hours, lulled me into a false sense of security with it's shortness and flatness. Day two, although a longer 6 hour hike, was similarly unchallenging with glorious views of mountains and fjords and only a spot of drizzle and short climb at the end of the day to test us. Day three was a different story. We'd been promised a tough but relatively short climb from the hut to the top of McKinnon pass. Two hours of constant uphill on zig zagging paths later I was delighted to reach the top and the breathtaking views we'd been promised. It was amazing, with 360 degree panoramas across Fjordland and a toilet with arguably the best view in the world (see photos). Unfortunately, it was also so windy at the top of the pass that it was impossible to spend more than 30 seconds outside without succumbing to hypothermia or being blown unceremoniously off the edge of the mountain and into the 12 second drop to the bottom. Luckily for us the ranger at Mintaro hut had supplied us with cheese scones with which to bribe the rangers at the summit hut, thereby securing ourselves a well earned cup of tea.

Having dragged self and rucksack to the 1069m high summit I was quite looking forward to a leisurely downhill stroll to the bottom. Silly, silly me. The usual route down, which in itself was described as the toughest stretch of the hike, was closed due to avalanches and replaced by the "emergency" track. Unsurprisingly, this route was somewhat less well maintained, and involved scrambling unceremoniously down rocky, uneven stretches of track, clambering over boulders and navigating networks of low hanging tree branches, all to the ominous soundtrack of rumbling avalanches somewhere overhead. I don't think I've ever spent so long going constantly downhill. By the end, my legs had actually stopped working and rest breaks were threatening to outnumber the short bursts of walking. Even the sight of the rare blue duck, a prized achievement for Milford Track hikers, was viewed by me as nothing more than the opportunity to stand still for a couple of minutes to take a photograph. Never has a thin plastic mattress and a rickety bunk bed been greeted with such joy.

Anyone hoping to hike the Milford Track needs to plan ahead, as only 90 hikers are allowed to start the trail each day in peak season, all must hike northward and spend a night at each of the 3 DOC huts along the route (camping is not allowed). The huts are basic - bunk beds in dorm rooms and a few stoves in the kitchen and you need to carry your own food and bedding. Most people had stocked up on pouches of dehydrated chicken chasseur and beef stroganoff to reward themselves after a hard day's hiking. We of course, being 50% hard core superhiker, scoffed at such fripperies and dined on super noodles and pouches of tuna... The huts are manned by friendly rangers who take a register to make sure noone has fallen off a cliff en route, provide weather updates (usually involving rain) and deliver cautionary tales about kea flying off with your hiking boots if you leave them outside. Being new to wilderness hiking, I was impressed by the location of the huts (nestling under huge mountains in the middle of nowhere) and the relative comfort of the bunk rooms. The exception to this was the one in which the beds were completely encased at the head end by a partition wall, a very low sloping roof and a luggage locker prompting an embarrassing screaming fit when I woke up in pitch blackness from a nightmare about being buried alive. Luckily for me said pitch blackness prevented anyone from realising who the screaming person was, creating a much debated mystery at breakfast the next morning. If any of my fellow hikers are reading this - yes, it was me.

To get to and from the track itself you need to catch a ferry and a bus. There's only one ferry in each direction which means no dilly dallying on the last day. This was a bit of a shame, as approximately 30 minutes into the final day of hiking, having come through the previous 22 miles relatively unscathed, I was struck down with crippling stomach pains and general unwellness. Under any other circumstances these pains, along with their friends nausea and hot/cold sweats, would've dispatched me to bed or at the very least a duvet covered sofa. Sadly for me, unless I declared myself in need of a helicopter evacuation (tempting, but ultimately inadvisable), the only way to get to any sort of surface for lying down on was to complete the longest section of the hike at the brisk pace necessary to ensure I didn't miss the only ferry back to civilisation. This I managed to do with a mixture of steely determination, crying and a bit of swearing - it felt like the whole traumatic experience should've been accompanied by a camera crew, dramatic voice over and a sigur ros soundtrack. Even my triumphant sighting of the finishing line was marred by the realisation that (1) Sandfly Point is all too accurately named and I'd need to wait for the ferry not sprawled on the grass in the recovery position but sitting on a bench in the sweltering waiting hut and (2) that at the end of this my attempts at not throwing up would be further challenged by a half hour ferry crossing.

Despite my unexpectedly undignified end to the hike it was, all in all, an excellent trip.