Day Five: Wrapping Up a Great Time

Okay, if Minnesota had mountains, this is what it would look like today. We've had three days of nonstop snow to take us up to a guaranteed white Christmas. I hope all of you who were on the Track with me, have a lovely holiday this year and start planning your next treks for the New Year over the appropriate glasses full of merriment.

I wanted to start this last posting with this photo because it makes you want to look at the detail of each of those jagged peaks and at the lines of the ridges with great care so you get it all. What a photo! Two members of the Milford 6 (I believe they were Number #2 and Number #4) took a helicopter back to Queenstown after our Sound cruise and made sure to take photos while hanging out at great heights. They were both giggling wildly before departing, so I'm sure there was a devilish plan to swing out under the chopper on a bungie or something - all the while taking photos (New Zealand is the land of extreme adventures, after all).

Of course it's far too soon to imagine that our journey has come to its end. Some trekkers have a relieved look, some (after our evening at the pub) are looking FOR relief, while still others have an afterglow (for whatever reason, but what goes on in New Zealand, stays in New Zealand) and I myself would be counted in the afterglow demographic.

We boarded the boat for our Milford Sound cruise after breakfast and our final purchases of Track souveniers at Mitre Peak Lodge. The Sound is rainy with a gray mist that creates lines of depth on the landscape. As we cruise by waterfalls, bays and a rock full of seals, we are alternately chased inside by cold winds and rain or brought back outside on deck by a view that cannot stand to have a window in the way.

The people-watching is fantastic, since we are no longer looking at all the same faces we've seen for the last five days. (And I'm not saying I minded any of those faces in the least, I'm only noting the addition of other faces). I truly enjoy people. I think people are fascinating - whatever their country of origin. I enjoy watching the little groups or families gather at the railing of our boat for their photos to be remembered a long way from here. The waterfalls were volumnous and thundering down the sides of the fjords as a backdrop to these photos.

We near the Tasman Sea and our boat begins to pitch with the larger strength of big water. I love the excitement of being tossed around by the ocean, but it is proving a bit more than most of the passengers would prefer and we turn around for the return to the ferry dock and our stop at the airport for those flying today.

All too quickly we have waved good bye to those flying and are on the narrow, breathtaking mountain roads, speeding past the many miles of sheep and deer farms, the broom and red cossack dotting the land, enjoying spoken commentary from the driver and a promised delivery of an original rap by our "most improved" trip member. (I'm not so sure it was as spontaneous as our Do-Re-Mi rap on the trail, but it had a more exciting story line...)

We drop off two of our guides in Te Anau to join up with their next group for whom - in front of their bus - we act up our various injuries, aches and pains for a show. We say good byes to our guide friends, without groping (as requested) and all too quickly, we are in Queenstown, picking up our packs from the cargo hold of the bus and heading off in many different directions, no longer Group #12 in present tense.

Thanks for the fun, everyone. I'm not saying good bye, I'm looking for you on the next trail...

Day Four: Quintin to Mitre Peak Lodge

Well, this is the last walking day - and it's the biggest one, too - without much altitude change, it will be a nice day to pace ourselves while taking in Bell Rock, MacKay Falls, Giant's Gate, and all the many views along the Arthur River Valley and Lake Ada.

We leave by 7:30 a.m. with the expectation of getting to Boathouse by 9 a.m. (roughly 5 miles at a nice pace). The day is bright and after yesterday's leg work-out, we're all feeling as though today will be a nice march out. The terrain today is sloping back down to sea level and it's fun to catch a breeze and smell the increasing amount of salt in the air, imagining how much closer we are getting to the Milford Sound and the Tasman Sea with each corner. The Arthur River and the surrounding mountain ranges carry enough fresh water into the bay we'll stay on tonight that it is named Fresh Water Bay. Our group's goal today, (besides hatching a plan to create some certificates to present to members on our trip who have left impressions upon us), is to make Sandfly Point (12 miles away) by 3:15 p.m. when the first of two boat launches would take us to Mitre Peak Lodge.

We are instructed after our 9 a.m. stop at the Boathouse to find a lunch spot wherever we start getting hungry. There wasn't any particular place to meet and the day is set up as more of a self-directed day (although you can't really wander too far off the trail unless you care to bushwack or go swimming in extremely cold water - which, by the way, you can drink without filtration...if I didn't gush about that already! [pun completely intended!] It saddens me to think that at one point not long ago we could drink the water up in the Boundary Waters Canoe Area without filtration as well, but there are too many JimBobs who use that area and don't remember what that ecological cycle means...maybe they can't spell it either...)

I'm sorry, I got off the track there, didn't I? Easy to do when you see so much beauty and realize how easy it is to misuse.

The Mildford 6 walks a bit apart for most of the morning, enjoying the different strides and those who still want to sing versus those who want to listen to the birds and their thoughts of an all-too-quick end to this enriching experience.

At lunch, we collect on a little bridge in an impossibly green thicket that's dripping with this clean water. There we enjoy our lunches, swinging our booted feet over a little brook. A couple of very special pictures get taken and we begin our final few miles. If I had taken as many photos as I wanted to on this trek, I would most likely still be there at about the mid-point. Nature was showing her stuff in this area and, as I said previously, you didn't want to misstep, but you didn't want to stop looking around you, either.
The track obviously began to widen after an hour or so and flatten out with a cathedral of trees honoring our final steps.

We are greeted with the hoped for and very welcome selection of hot drinks, snacks and plenty of smiles as we enter the Sandfly Point hut at trail's end. What we learn there is that our friend with the injured knee had been helicoptered out of Boathouse at about 1:30 p.m. (arriving more than three hours after we'd gotten there), so clearly, the knee injury had worsened since the trip up and over the pass the day before. We were all relieved to hear that our group would remain intact and that a medical evacuation wasn't necessary. Moments before our boat was to launch for Mitre Peak Lodge, the last of our guides arrives - having run most of the distance between Boathouse and Sandfly Point with a full pack. We in my group had taken a full 6 hours - including our lunch break (and hey! you've all seen how fit we are...) to make this same journey. But since guides are not to leave anyone behind in the group, one of them had to see off the helicopter at Boathouse. An amazing feat!

And while it seemed rather heroic, we are all still discussing whether or not this individual didn't have the helicopter make a special drop off - I mean, we've all seen marathon "runners" jump from the stands at the last moments of the race to join the pack, right? There were certain untruths told along the way, by said individual - something about geothermically heated lakes that were clearly not warmed in the least (and included eels as inhabitants!) and something else about seeing certain bird life and running for our lives - the source was truly in question by trip's end. And although I heard moaning the next day about sore muscles, there was never an interview with the helicopter pilot as verification of this Milford Mini-Marathon.

Again, I digress... The evening's activities were, in a sentence, summed up by "What Happens in New Zealand, Stays in New Zealand" and with our fill of lovely food provided by the Mitre Peak Lodge staff (Cheers, folks - well done on the rack of lamb!), we are presented with our certificates of achievement from our guides and those the Milford 6 created (although really, for putting up with us, the guides may themselves be due at least an extra retirement bonus!). The Milford Sound was a sight to see! And in the rain, no less...which was beautifully timed for the end of our journey!

Day Three: Pompolona to Quintin Lodge

Okay, so who told the Kea to get right under my cabin at 4:30 a.m. and start broadcasting his plans for the day to his buddies? And believe me, it was a big agenda... I nearly went against my bird-loving instincts, thinking of how far I could throw my boot with any accuracy. Needless to say, I saw the first puff of the generator that morning... at 6:00 a.m. trying to get back to my usual happy place after such a rude awakening.

As we all leave after breakfast and lunch packing activities, we are looking up. It seems that some of yesterday's gray is holding on, but we're hoping to have the morning sun coming through for our zigzagging up to the pass. As you can see from this photo, the waterfalls are filled and spilling happily down the mountainsides. Anywhere you looked this morning, there was clear air, clean bubbling water and grand vistas.

The sun starts coming out as if we planned it and after dripping vegetation with boardwalks crossing rocky riverbeds, we begin to move up the side of this saddle. The flowers are newly refreshed and coming out all over the edges of the trail. Although you are watching where your boots are going, it was just as important to stop, eat a chocolate, turn around and look out at what was all around you. The expanse continually took your breath away!

As we round the last zigzag, we see the top of the Quintin MacKinnon Memorial and know that we have gotten to 3278 Feet. We are jubilant! I'm going to post this photo without zooming in on it, because you've already seen the group I'm talking about (and how cute we are) and it's more important to see all the peaks so near us. We had walked 13, 705 steps to get there... (BRING IT ON!) and we were ready for lunch - as well as the show of dish washing that rivals ANY dish washing I've ever witnessed!!! Okay so maybe I was a bit giddy anyway. After having two major back surgeries, let's just say this was a bit of an affirmation to me that I don't have to stop doing all that I love because of any physical limitation. I was feeling pretty relieved and very excited.

The Clinton River Valley stretched out behind us now, making our progress in the last two days very apparent. After taking our last look at it, we started down the other side of the pass - the tougher side - since going down is usually more exhausting than going up. We had all been checking on one member of our group who had an injured knee. The guides all had radios to keep in contact with each other, so updates were immediate. We could only imagine the continual pain of that day and hoped that very good pain killers were on hand.

The descent was long and grueling, but we broke it up with songs (I've never heard the Do-Re-Mi Rap, but I assure you - it's out there now!) and encouragement to "get amongst it!"

To say that we were all leaning pretty heavily on our hiking sticks by the time we got to Quintin Lodge is an understatement. That stick was holding me upright by the time we got to the lodge. But after being assigned our bunks, we put down the packs, had something to drink and left for the remaining three mile roundtrip to Sutherland Falls. Walking without the pack was like flying!

The energy in the air was enough to fuel ten more walks up and down from the pass. We were SOAKED from the spray, but really charged by the ionized air and our day's accomplishment. We practically skipped back from that half mile of falling water. The view of where we'd come from after lunch was its own thrill - Mt. Balloon stretching to the sky.

Frankly, I'm surprised we didn't drink the champagne dry that night (I think we left at least one bottle...). We had a lovely dinner after we made sure that our injured colleague had an appropriate acknowledgment of the day's trials. The slide show that evening was especially exciting: accompanied by vegemite face-paints, a guest heckler to the evening's slide show commentary (which we VERY MUCH appreciated, given that we Milford 6 had silenced ourselves for the evening out of respect) and the fulfillment of a day well hiked.

The full moon is out this night and we gather outside to look at the magnificent stars and see the shadowy figures of the weka dashing about like little dinosaurs along the edges of the lodge.

Day Two: Glade House to Pompolona

Now, before you get too tired of pictures of just us, let me say that - hey, we're a nice looking bunch of girls! (I mean, aren't we?) We're putting our best feet forward, we are having a laugh at every turn and there's really something to be said about throwing a group of people together who don't really know each other well and having it become as easy, as natural and as much fun as it was.

The first night there had been an activity to get to know everyone in the group that I missed - beyond the singing of Take Me Out to the Ball Game - oh joy. I was suffering from a pretty good cold and trying my best to "KEEP UP!" I got thrown in the middle of that one while stopping through the commons area for something hot to drink to clear my head. (And not that getting to know everyone wasn't a priority for me, it's just that I didn't really want to get anyone else sick.)

Back to the Milford Track... my internal alarm clock is working, no matter what time zone seemingly and to my dismay, so we all wake up about 6:30 a.m. to a chilly morning. For those who aren't morning people, I felt badly, since the schedule of our days demanded quite a bit of get up and go. Our guides are lively and rather a lot of fun. They get us going with positive attitudes, carrying probably twice what the rest of us do at double the speeds, smiling and laughing with us along the way.

We pack up, eat a lovely hot breakfast (and why I seem to eat like it's the last food I'll ever see, I'm not quite sure!) and put on our gear to start out into the ancient beech forest and boglands that await us this morning.

The day remains cool and rather gray as we find our stride. We aren't really gaining too much altitutude today, but there are spots where you're climbing up a rocky bit and need to watch your footing. At the lunch hut, aptly named Six Mile Hut, we stop to take on a persistant and clever little guy, called a Kea, who finally wins out for his watchful harassment of the lunch eaters and flies off with a Crunchy Bar. What a sugar rush that guy was going to experience...it would be like me eating my left leg's worth of chocolate! (I'm inserting links to show the birds I mention, because I like the pictures on the NZ bird site better than the ones I took.)