canuckkiwi: The Routeburn Track in the sun and the rain and the snow

Those of you who know me would probably agree that I’m neither a girly-girl nor a great outdoorswoman. I’m somewhere in between. I enjoy the outdoors, but not encountering much of the creatures that reside there; I do my best to avoid mosquitoes, bears, coyotes, wolves and the like. One of the many many things that I enjoy about New Zealand is that, other than the mosquitoes and the overly friendly sandflies, none of the creatures here are inclined to chomp down on human flesh.

Therefore, I explore the kiwi backcountry with much more gusto and vigour than I do in Canada (in other words, I do explore it here, whereas I don’t at home). It had been a while, but this past weekend I laced up my hiking shoes, shoved my sleeping bag, rain gear, camera, and a bunch of instant noodles into my backpack, and hit the trails.

It was all last minute. A Canadian girl I’d met briefly last week in Franz Josef was at the same hostel as Hannah and I in Queenstown. She and three other people she had just met were doing the Routeburn Track Friday through Sunday and she invited me along. As Hannah was leaving on Friday, and I had nothing to do until Monday (when I had an interview with Treble Cone in Wanaka), I was happy to accept the invitation.

In hindsight, it might have been a good idea to put a bit more thought into logistics before agreeing to come along.

You see, it’s mid-fall here, and “here” is pretty far South (which in this hemisphere means, it’s colder), and the Routeburn is in a mountainous area that has been known to get snow even in the height of summer. Do you see where I’m going with this?

And remember those hiking shoes I put in my bag? Yeah. Shoes. Not boots. Not warm, and definitely not waterproof. And that sleeping bag? It cost me all of $40 and was meant for summer use, and even then its effectiveness at keeping me warm is less than optimal. And the rain gear? Turns out much of the properties that at one time made it waterproof no longer apply (that was a nice surprise in Saturday’s downpour, let me tell you). And my camera? Well, one hour into the first day, my batteries died. And my backup set? Yeah, they were dead too. Greeeeaaaat.

Nonetheless, I had a great time. I was hiking with Aki and Lavilla from Canada, Rahki from England, and Eddie from Germany. We also met Andrew from Oz, Dermud from Ireland, Nathalie from Switzerland, a dozen Americans doing an outdoor leadership course, and a bunch of other random people along the way.

The Routeburn is a 32 km, three-day hike and we slept two nights in huts spaced about four hours apart along the track. We climbed from about 700m to 1255m of altitude, then back down. The entire way we were surrounded by majestic mountains and pristine waterfalls and beautiful forest. When the clouds broke, the views were stunning. Unfortunately, for much of Saturday, when we were at the peak of the track, the mountains were shrouded in grey clouds and the rain rarely let up. We were all rather soaked and cold when we reached the hut that night.

And what about those huts? Well, even in the summer, they’re basic (unsurprising, as they’re at the top of a flipping mountain). In the fall and winter, they cross the line into positively rustic. I won’t lie – I was rather uncomfortable at times. It wasn’t the lack of light (the sun sets at 5:30 these days), or the fact that we had only a single outhouse (one didn’t even have TP) to be shared among 30+ trampers, or the cosy sleeping quarters – those were fine. It was the cold that was killing me. I really wasn’t prepared for that. A few days ago, it was 20 degrees in nearby Queenstown and I was wearing a t-shirt and capris. Up on the Routeburn, even at noon we could see our breath indoors and all we had was a wood stove in a massive room to keep hypothermia at bay. I seriously considered hiking back down and try my hand at hitchhiking at one point.

Luckily, the fire did its job and by sleeping directly next to the stove while wearing two pairs of thermal pants and socks, and about five layers on my upper body, I managed to not only get comfortable, but sleep soundly. Phew!

Day three started off beautifully – the sun was shining and the snow-topped peaks around us were positively sparkling (the huts were all in these really stunning locations). By 1:30 though, the temperature plummeted and the pretty, light snow that had been falling all morning suddenly turned into that heavy, slushy stuff that sticks to everything and makes even the cheeriest of souls downtrodden. I only had to hike in it for an hour, so it wasn’t bad (and I had resorted to wearing plastic shopping bags over my socks which kept my feet somewhat dry – sexy).

I was so happy to get to the Divide: the end of the track and the pickup point for the bus. Unfortunately, the moderate snow we were having on our (inland) side of the mountain range was evidently extremely heavy on the other (coastal) side, and that was the side the bus was coming from. We spent a tense hour and 15 minutes waiting for said bus after hearing that the road was closed and that, if the weather didn’t break, it might not make it at all and we might have to camp out again. Scary.

Fortunately, after a time, the snow plows did their job, and the bus did show up (I literally nearly hugged the driver). So I was able to shower (oh my goodness did I ever need it), eat a hot, non-instant-noodle meal, enjoy a cold beer, and sleep in a warm room. Double phew.

Now, I really wish I had a bunch of photos to share with you all, but I only managed to take a few in on my first day, and (after rearranging the batteries a few times) two on days two and three. Luckily, I've managed to grab some pictures off of Aki and Lavilla. Tripple Phew!

Lavailla, Rahki, me, Aki and Eddie

Mackenzie Hut, where we spent our second night. This was the calm before the snow storm.

One of the many waterfalls along the track.

Andrew, me, Aki, Nathalie and Durmid trying to stay warm at Mackenzie Hut.

Before heading out on our last leg of the walk.

The drying station at Mackenzie. There were 30+ pairs of boots and shoes and countless items of clothing drying here. It wasn't the best smelling place in the world.