And birds suddenly appear...

I saw a clearing through the trees and veered off the trail. Time wasn’t a factor today, so I let my heart do what it wanted to. At that moment in time, I needed to find freedom from the track, from the world, from this life. I led us to an isolated tree in the clearing which provided shade for us as I put down my backpack staking this land as our lunch site.

I didn’t want to talk. I just wanted to enjoy the reality of the situation. This earthly Eden. Sitting in a valley surrounded by a deep forest and mountains. The river can be heard in the distance. A clearing, to clear my own mind.

It’s sad to think that one day this trip will end, and we’ll be back to our “real lives”. Back to living in the big city, back to work, back to a different kind of routine. On the overnight cruise, the nature guide made a comment to all of the occupants about the ‘real world’. Asking us how we could leave such an oasis to live amongst the skyscrapers, as if they are naturally occurring things, while the mountains are a mystery and a treat.

Why do we? It’s almost like we’ve lost touch with reality. This reality. Nature. Natural. Separated from the world that we know back home, yet it’s never that far away in your mind. We’re only three months into the trip at this point, but you can still feel the time ticking away. The minutes, the hours, the days – they just fly by when I’m out here on the trails. The concept of time goes out the window, but the consequences of its disappearance stings. I stand before this beautiful land; no amount of time allows me to truly soak it in. I want to be saturated. When I’m off the trails, I dream of those moments where the valleys opened up to the world around me. The heights, the colours, the smells and the sounds.

I veered off track to soak in the moment a little bit more.

You spend so much time looking down while you’re hiking that you can miss out on the world around you. But the world around me is why I am here. A spectacular display of life. A world painted for those adventurous enough to take to the trail.



The Greenstone/Caples – The valley hike that Hollyford should have been


Day 1 – Friday, October 31st

It was a cold day today. The kind of cold that makes you want to take out your winter woollies all over again.

We started out our day at the DOC office to hand in our intentions. The peak season is upon us, and this office is at a point where it is always super busy. Worse, the team now grills you over every move you make on the trails. They ask you about everything. Do you have survival beacons/mountain radios – why not? Do you have waterproofs – and they ask you this as you stand before them in full gortex. Do you have a cooker? Do you have food? “You know that food is not available for purchase at the huts, correct?” SERIOUSLY? Who thinks that you buy food at the hut? Do you have a sleeping bag? Do you have a change of clothes? Then they grill you on water crossing safety, and hypothermia, and getting lost, and so on and so forth. It’s our fifth hike in this park, and if we had spoken to any other DOC staff member, they would have let us just walk – cause they are starting to know us there. But this woman was new. We don’t mind the questions and we understand why they ask a majority of them, but some things they ask are just ridiculous. Today, it took about 20-25 minutes to complete the grill session. And this is why it was annoying. I know that they bump into some uber inexperienced and just plain dumb people, but come on. That’s a long time to go at one group setting out on the trails.

Soon after, we were on our way back to the Divide, where we had started our Routeburn adventure a few weeks ago. The Greenstone/Caples circuit is really two hikes that you can do together to create a loop track. Most people start on the Caples side of the hike because of the big climb on the first day, which people say is really steep and that they would prefer to go up it then climb down, while the other direction provides you with a flatter valley walk. We chose to start on the Greenstone side because it was a shorter first day hike in this direction then it would have been to the Caples’ first hut, and the drive to the Divide is long enough. If you don’t set out super early, you risk ending the hike in the dark. On top of that, the weather wasn’t all that nice today, and the Caples’ hike brings you at the highest point and crossing a saddle. We wanted to have better weather for that crossing. It would be nice to see the valley from above after spending so many days walking through it.

Now that the tramping season has started, the first part of the track was much busier then the last time we hiked the first hour and a half to Lake Howden Hut. This part of the track is shared between the Greenstone/Caples hikers and the Routeburn (a great walk) trampers. With the season upon us, there are now hut wardens about – clearing and maintaining the track, and just a great deal more people doing day hiking in the area and spending the nights in supervised huts. Unlike the $45/night you would pay at Hump Ridge for a possible lack of service, the $45/night you put forth for a DOC hut is understandable. The cost helps to keep the tracks clear for the great walk hikers, covering maintenance, paying for the hut wardens who live at each hut along the great walks, pays for wood and coal – which is fully stocked up during the peak season, FLUSH toilets (a luxury that are only used due to the amount of people who use the tracks – too busy for a long drop), a guaranteed bed, gas provided for the gas stoves. You are given things so that all you have to bring are the bare essentials. “Easier” tramping. You’re taken care of.

We have walked this first part of the track twice before, once to the hut, and once back to the divide. This direction was all uphill. Our track starts at a junction found just outside the first Routeburn hut.

The rain came and went all day long. A misty fog sat in the valley, setting the mood. It was beautiful in the clearings, but wet. We walked up and down some hilly ridges as we skirted around two separate lakes and walked through a flooded tussock clearing before reaching McKellar Hut. Creaky McKellar hut.

We started a fire, and got it nice and hot. A good coal fire. These huts are used by hunters in the area, who leave their marks all around – including shooting out junction signs near the hut, and this depletes the coal and fire wood supplies. The DOC has clearly dropped a recent load of coal at the hut, cause there were so many bags at the hut. A lot of people said there wouldn’t be any, but I gather that this track’s proximity to the Routeburn may have helped in recent coal deliveries.

Exploring the area, you will also find meat safes. You can tell these huts were made with hunters in mind. Today, no hunters. Just us and our creaky hut. Sitting quietly in the hut, we fine dined on our Chicken Satay Wraps – so delicious.

Signing into the hut intentions book, we found yet another tramping club sticker posted alongside the names of the members who hiked the track. We find these through a lot of different intention books. This has since sparked the idea that WE should have a tramping club name for the two of us. We were thinking we could make stickers and start posting them after our names each time we get to a hut.

Now all we need is a tramping club name. And if you have any suggestions, we’re open. : )

The winds picked up in the evening and the rain moved in even harder. Lots of rain all night. Strong wind all night. The hut whining with every blow.


Day 2 – Saturday, November 1st

An interesting day. A spectacular hike. This truly is the valley hike we thought the Hollyford would be. The Hollyford track takes you through a valley for four days until you open up to the ocean’s coast. Yet, the views are shielded by the trees and you’re never in a valley, you’re really only skirting along mountain ridges. Which in its own regard is beautiful. But the Greenstone/Caples walk is proving in its second day just how much we were expecting the last valley walk to be just that, a valley walk.

We waited out the heavier part of the rain this morning. But the rain brings out wonderful moods of the environment. The forests were gorgeous, with what would have to be my two favourite trees in New Zealand. The uber mossy moody trees that are stark and rigid, sharp and full of character and life. A classic ‘scary movie’ type of tree. The angles are rigid and the colours are haunting. And the Jurassic park trees. Like a curtain, these trees hang over you and hide your surroundings as moss dangles by your side and creates its own spectacular world, only to pull back and reveal a tussock valley floor and gorgeous mountain views. Wetlands all around you, as you walk through the valley; every turn, new vegetation, new life. We took our time to enjoy this hike. It was spectacular and ever changing.

Walking through the first clearing, we finally understood this one comment that appeared in the intentions book at the first hut. “No one told me I needed a boat!” Strange comment. Until you realize you are going to be walking through wetland areas that have been flooded, especially after rainfall. Long grass hid the few poles marking the trail as well as the water wonderland under your feet. Skirting around deeper bogs that sink your feet as you try to pass through. A very wet track all around.

The fishermen were out on the trails as well. Testing their luck in the rivers (the Greenstone and the Caples rivers are apparently world renown for their fishing – especially fly fishing). Today was the first day of the season.

Also making an appearance today, was the didymo. Rock snot. An algae that is in North America, but isn’t a problem the way it is out here. Something to do with the temperature of the rivers and freshwater which doesn’t allow the didymo to cycle through. It’s just rampant. This stuff is nasty to look at. It’s like brownish slime that clings to life on the rocks in the water. When you enter a didymo area in NZ, you have to be diligent in removing it from your gear (especially fishermen) before stepping foot in fresh water in another park. The weed like algae was brought to NZ by some people fishing in the US who didn’t wash their gear properly. So the story goes.

Paradise ducks called out around us, flying in pairs as they scurried away. Throughout the day, bunnies’ ears popped up among the tussock grass before the animal rapidly made their escape. They were much better off in the tussock where they were hidden. Instead they chose to run up hills that were devoid of any vegetation or safe hiding spots. And we may have spotted one deer. A black deer. A small fellow deer. So many people went on and on about how many deer there were in the area, and how we’ll just see them left, right and centre. But that’s not completely accurate. There may be deer in the park, but they don’t just live in the valley out in the open. One deer, from really far away, that was our contact with the ‘heaps’ of deer. We’ve seen more deer presence on other tracks like the Hollyford, where their tracks walked in and out of the forest area to access the lake water and to simply use the track to facilitate movement. Why bush bash when there is a cut out trail? The deer even think that way.

The walk was ever changing. The forests, the valleys, the rocky gorges. It smelled so fresh. It was so wonderful to spin around in the open areas to take it all in. Every turn would alter the perspective, and it was much enjoyable.

We arrived at the Greenstone hut mid afternoon. Two people’s equipment was left in one of the two rooms just off the main area. That all belonged to two kiwis who were out in the rivers fishing today. They joined us in the hut while we were eating dinner. Today, two minute noodles (we had the fancy stuff the day before) and this time we added instant mashed potatoes to the menu. Way too many starchy carbs, but it was good. This company Maggi makes flavoured mashed potatoes. Today we ate the vegetable infused option. This stuff is like a balloon with its ability to rehydrate. It soaks up water mad fast. The best part of NZ food, at least for now, is that there are NO GMOs!! Such a change from back home.

Our gear is starting to show its true colours as we get further into this trip. We are going to be doing some mighty reviewing on the MEC website one day. Some of the items are crap. Our wind gloves are garbage. Tiny holes have been appearing in the strangest places, discounting any ties with the idea of ‘wear & tear’, and they just keep growing...tearing through all the layers. Not so wind proof anymore. And our crank lantern, sadly is poo. It’s a great concept, but its life span isn’t as great as we thought it would be. At the lowest setting, you have to hand crank the lantern over 300 times for it to last even 15-20minutes. At the lowest setting you are using no power. 300 cranks will not get you 5 minutes at the highest setting. This a significant drop in the time from when we first started to use it. We used to crank it 100 times each (200 total) and at the lowest setting it would last at least an hour. Its true colours are shining through, yet its ability is fading fast. Thank goodness we have the wind up flashlight my brother bought me for Christmas. Life saver. It lasts, and that’s what you need!

Later in the evening, one of the two kiwis decided to start a fire to warm up the hut. He set up a good amount of firewood and kindling in the stove and then used some fuel to light up his concoction. A fiery start to the night. As he stepped aside to collect more wood suitable for this stove, I noticed something fall. A loud thud. Staring into the fire, I couldn’t understand what had just happened as the wood hadn’t toppled over. But there was a mass just in front of us.

Suddenly, it started to fly. A bird that had started to nest in the chimney dropped down into the stove after he lit the fire. That bird is so lucky that the stove’s door was open, otherwise he would have been toast. Now we have a black bird going berserk flying into windows and walls in a dark hut, lit only by the two kiwis’ headlamps and our wind up lantern. It was a mission to get this thing safely out of the hut. Traumatized already, this bird wasn’t leaving without a fight. After a few minutes and multiple attempts of guiding the bird into the many open escape routes, and his endless attempts at breaking through the solid wall structure, one of the guys managed to get the bird into his hands. Squawking for dear life, the guy escaped being pierced by the bird’s beak and tossed him out the door.

Never a dull moment.


Day 3 – Sunday, November 2nd

We didn’t see deer in the clearing this morning, like the kiwis had the day before. One of them was actually woken up in the middle of the night by a deer chewing on a bush just outside his window. We slept on the wrong side. That would have been amazing.

We set out for Mid Caples hut today, a hike which would see the conclusion of the Greenstone track and lead us back towards the Divide. Today’s hike was just as diverse as the previous day. The tussock valley floor opening up the views to the mountain chains surrounding us. The crisp blue river swiftly travelling in its rocky bed, being fed by the creeks and streams flowing through the valley and the marshes. Rocky patches on the track opening up the mountain side to interesting views of strange vegetation. Valley tussocks, followed by subalpine scrub, then trees sitting further up the mountain. A reverse of what you would normally see. Rocky gorges with no water meant to be flowing through. Staccato rocks along the hillside overshadowed by the sheer rock faces that make up the peaks. Picturesque waterfalls roaring down bouldery drops into pools of crisp water.

When we stopped for lunch, I started to whistle to a little grey bird (which may have been a NZ robin) who took a mutual interest in me. He approached me as a small worm dangled from his mouth. I guess we were both dining at that point. He continued to approach me as I whistled but eventually flew away. I sat down on the ground to keep eating my crackers & cheese. After a short rest I was about to get back up, when suddenly my little grey friend flew towards me and landed just at my feet. I started to whistle at him once again and he approached me without caution. It was interesting. He was beautiful. Brent tried to shoo him away, but he kept coming back. I don’t necessarily trust birds, because I have heard of people enduring impromptu bird attacks. They are quite agile and able to hop around pretty quickly. But there was something special with this bird. It even got the attention of other passing day hikers, who couldn’t believe he was perched so close to our gear and interacting with us.

We crossed paths with more day hikers and fishermen today. None of which were spending the nights. Apparently this track is usually packed solid during this first weekend of fishing, but we didn’t experience the rush. It was pretty quiet out on the rivers this weekend.

Through a fence we walked to find we were in a ‘wild’ farm. Sheep and cows that live in the private lands around the park who are unsupervised and live wild in the area. No farmers live here, and the animals are only mustered 2-3 times a year. Freshly shorn sheep were running around, rushing by us on the track, not wanting to be caught between the river and us. Skittish little creatures, more so then ones you would find on a farm. After circling a few herds of sheep, we came upon the cows. The cows that parked themselves alongside our foot path. Cows that make us feel a little more hesitant since being chased by that white bull near the McLay farm. I just don’t trust cows. They have the ability to harm people. Sheep can’t win that fight. They don’t scare me. But cows are difficult to trust.

If the cows pacing along the track weren’t enough, we also had a herd of about 12 or more cows walking the track with us. Only, once they discovered they were sharing it with humans, they didn’t make following it very easy. They would stop and stare us down at several points, which led us to put our poles in the air and blow a giant “WHOOSH” from our mouths. Just like when we were moving cows at the McLay’s farm. We had to herd them from their paddock and walk them down the road. Sometimes these cattle beast stop and stare you down. Give them a little movement and loud noise, and they’re off running once again. You either keep them moving or endure lengthy staring competitions.

The track led us through the farm land and over a giant gorge, before climbing up a short hill to the hut. Mid Caples hut. One we would share with a fisherman and another hiker. A hut with a gorgeous elevated view that looked over the Caples’ river and the valley. A hut with a bench to sit on and enjoy the view. And one that was not overcome by sandflies.

A sheep meanders by the hut to snack on the grass sitting below the single bench. A true New Zealand moment. Tramping meets farm life.


Day 4 – Monday, November 3rd

Another fine day is upon us. And sadly, a very short hike. Today’s lesson is not to just push through to huts that are under two hours away from another one. We wanted to spend one night at each of the four huts, but the Mid Caples and Upper Caples huts are too close together. We took two hours to complete the journey, and that was being lackadaisical about things.

I found joy in the simple things today. Trying to infiltrate a small herd of sheep in the valley. As I called out to the sheep in my best ‘meh’, I found that they didn’t immediately run away. Probably confused as I could sound like them, but definitely didn’t look like them. The wildlife came out to play today. I saw a pair of fellow deer running in a rocky clearing on the river bed. They fled before Brent could spot them. Mind you, he almost unknowingly walked off a ledge to see them. The birds were flying all around us. NZ has the cutest little green birds that are so small, they can’t help but be adorable.

The track markings were pretty poor on this trail. We came across larger wooden signs that literally said “TRACK” and arrows pointing in both directions in the most obvious areas. And the route markers were terrible. You were in open forest with what appeared to be several path options. Areas where you depended on a little bit of guidance were devoid of any track indications. Suddenly you hit a patch where 5 or 6 markers were all visible all from one standing point; sometimes, within 2-3 trees of one another. On our last day, we hit a ‘dead end’ with no indication of which way to scale down the cliff. I literally walked down an additional five minutes on my own to see if I was following the trail before I hit another route marker. You could walk in any direction, and without a clearing to place yourself on the map, you have no good way of tracking your progress. We deviated from the track several times before realizing we had gone astray.

Resting in a valley clearing was the most enjoyable moment of the day. And I must confess; my backpack is comfiest thing in the world on a break. The back is padded and makes a great pillow. Enjoying the world around me, while musical tracks loop in my head; songs that are lost in my thoughts.

Short hikes are no good. If there was a side trip you could take, that would be amazing. But today was pretty straight forward. It’s difficult. We arrived at the hut around half past one. I spent some time exploring the river bank on my own, trying to capture the little views that were supplied in this clearing. The clouds started to roll in as the day progressed. A clear sign that the following day would be just as rainy as when we first started out.

The sandflies were really aggressive and plentiful near Upper Caples hut, which make it difficult to stay outside and enjoy nature. You can only really do it in short spurts to avoid being eaten alive. We are now beginning to understand the woes of the sandfly attacks. To flee, we hide in the hut and play cards to pass the time. Today’s treat, time with our iPods. But it was much too early to be off the trails. We kept going out to see the river, walking up and down the riverbank a few times before calling it quits and staying inside. My arms couldn’t take any more bug bite attempts.

From the hut, we could watch the rabbits coming into the clearing to hop around and enjoy freedom. And just as predicted, a deer finally made an appearance in the clearing around the hut in the evening. Brent was disappointed that he missed the deer along the river, but I told him that we would probably see one later in the evening. Right on schedule. I tried to get closer to the deer to take a picture, which meant tip toeing along the veranda and freezing any time the deer looked up. I got pretty far along the veranda before the sandflies preformed a full on assault and I couldn’t take it anymore. As I started to slowly back away, the deer took notice and made a mad dash for cover.

The rain rolled in during the night.


Day 5 – Tuesday, November 4th

Last day. The long hike back to the car. According to the DOC, it should take us up to 10 hours to complete. And we’re ready with an early start. Leaving behind the last hut on a track that posted bed bug notices in all of its huts. Ew. With the plastic covering over the mats, I thought problems like that disappeared. Apparently not though.

We’re officially 18 hours ahead of our family and friends back home, as they hit their daylight savings on the 2nd. We’re really living in the future now. As we get back down to 16 hours, we’ll know our time in NZ is coming to an end.

So far, Brent and I have escaped serious blister problems on this trip. I owe it all to sock liners – thinner socks that you wear under your wool socks. They shield your feet from the rubbing that causes blisters. My heels look worn down, but nothing has officially become blister like. However, our big toes are starting to show a bit of wear and tear. Brent has built up a callus on his one tow, while the other is starting to show a mix between callus and blister...as are my poor toes. It’s just strange that nothing would have become more significant as of yet.

As we quickly approach the summer months and we continue to travel further south, we are really enjoying long periods of daylight. Evening twilight sits in the sky until long after 9pm. And we’re not even at the peak yet. We’ll be further north in the south island by the time the peak summer hours hit, but rumour has it that the south of the south island can be lightish beyond 11pm with twilight sitting for longer periods of time. Also with the arrival of summer, comes the increasing UV index. We’re already sitting at days of 9+ UV warnings. I live in my Buff which spans over my entire scalp, cause I burn really easily on my head, which just leads to a lengthy shedding period. Brent wears his Buff like a Pirate would wear his bandana. The sun is very hot here, and sitting under a hole in the Ozone layer doesn’t help. Sunscreen is a must even on overcast rainy days. Yet, most kiwis we know just don’t wear it. They are more used to their sun, but skin cancer must be a HUGE problem down here. 11+ is the highest indication on the UV scale down here...and it sits in the 11+ zone almost all summer long!

The hike back to the car was nice. We spent the first part of the day walking around a forest, following the smaller parts of the Caples river, before starting to scale the rocky boulders that were overrun by moss and lichens. Moss covered tree hollows were like traps spread across the forest floor. One second your poles are nose diving into an abyss, while another second your body sinks through a moss covered root that is hiding a deep crevice. Tree hollows which would be like condos for the animals that live here. There are so many all around one another. Complex shallow tree root systems extend across the forest floor. Creating challenging yet convenient steps for the track.

The vegetation was once again ever changing and truly enchanting. I know nothing of mosses and lichens, and really would never have given it a second thought back home. But here, I just want to stop every two seconds to capture this life growing all around. The colours are spectacular and the diversity is breathtaking. After a climb to the top, we followed boardwalks that snaked around the saddle, built to protect this fragile vegetation. Glowing in the fresh rain. The clouds covered any view we might have had on a clear day. Exposed and damp, this was a very cold part of the trip. Not the best day to not have worn your fleece under your rain coat.

A long steepish descent was upon us, as we hopped down tree roots and boulders, fortunate that they were not slicker from the rain. Thank goodness for good boots, or we would have rolled our ankles a few times. Rocky, rooty, and the never coming clearing. We could see our destination through the trees from pretty high up. As we slowly approached the lake and the valley floor, we were being teased with opportunities to cross over. I was officially dubbed as accident prone on this day, as I made a hobby out of bashing my knees and cracking my ankles. You roll them with our boots it seems, but you can still put some pressure on them. Only temporary pain thankfully. Meanwhile, Brent spent the day with a rock in the arch of his foot. Quite the pair.

We deviated from the track several times today, due to the lack of markers. The worst part was when we finally crossed over to the clearing, which we had been travelling alongside for a good 20minutes at this point. The DOC trail passes right through the deepest swamp you could imagine. Here we are skirting around smaller puddles, and they choose this location to make you cross. A location very much worthy of a boardwalk.

We chose to hobble over a fallen tree trunk that was barely sitting over the water’s top. With both poles taking favour to a side along the tree trunk, I watched as Brent’s poles found themselves almost fully submerged in the swamp. If you fall off this narrow trunk, you are going for a full fledged swim. So I took my time with every step, guiding my poles along the trunk with me. I could picture the fall into the water, but couldn’t bear to think of how cold I would be if that was realized. Deep pool of water. I wish I had a hammer with me, I could shift the track just a wee bit and let others avoid this situation.

We quickly made our way across the long grass clearing and back onto the hilly ridge. A quick snack stop at Lake Howden Hut preceded our final stretch to the Divide – 15mins uphill followed by 45mins downhill. Not a bad deal in this direction.

We ran into two women on the track further down, who had asked us how long it was to Key Summit, a popular day walk on the Routeburn track. It isn’t until you walk away that you realize that they were North American. When you meet people with North American accents, you don’t necessarily notice right away, because that’s a normal accent for us. If it’s been a while since we’ve been around kiwis, we tend to return to our ‘normal’ state, I guess; meaning that we don’t notice accents until a bit later. Hostels aren’t always run by native New Zealanders, which means you have a mix of accents all around you...and you barely ever meet kiwis in a hostel. Same thing at the campsites too, they could be run by foreigners. In Te Anau, most people we know are kiwis with wonderful accents. I’ll still notice their accents though. It’s not normal to me yet, if that makes sense. It’s still flagged in my mind. Whereas speaking to a Canadian or American, most of the time it’s a wash; takes me a moment to take notice.

Bookend weather for this hike. Rain, fine, fine, fine, rain.

At the Divide shelter, there were two Keas being fed by tourists. They truly are very beautiful birds, and they sound endearing with their cawing. But they are cheeky and work in pairs. We high tailed it to our poor car to see if they had eaten him. Keas are known for ripping apart vehicles. We had never seen them at the Divide before, but now that there are more tourists around, I think they have started to flock to the public areas once again. Luckily, the Sergeant is unscathed. We pack up and head back to Te Anau.

The last hike for us in Fiordland National Park – and most of it wasn’t even in this NP. We veered off into the Greenstone Conservation Area.

A wonderful way to end our time in this part of the country. A spectacular hike with an abundance of stunning views and an extensive display of native vegetation and varied landscape. The valley walk which put you right where you wanted to be.

In the heart of the world around you.