Tuesday, May 15, 2012

Fjiordland; Kepler Track and One More Night in Te Anau (Feb 25-27th)

Our first alarm went off at 8am, but unbeknownst to me, Franca had stayed up all night talking and hadn't even slept yet. I reset the alarm for 10am, insisted that Franca get at least an hour of shut eye, and returned to bed myself. When we finally roused ourselves, the rest of the house was stirring as well. As we poked through the party debris, we reviewed the highlights of the night, like Joseph splitting his pants with break-dancing.

The boys invited us to stay another night upon our return from our trek and offered to keep our things for us in the meantime. Daniel volunteered to drive us to the start of the trail, walk the first leg with us, and pick us up on Monday. Finally, having loitered at the house far longer than we should have, we got on the track at 1pm, exhausted and not a little hungover.


We tramped through a beech forest along the lake and river. Quite beautiful. Not take-a-photo-around-every-corner beautiful, but the forest burst with lush foliage in which every shade of green abounded. And the smells! I can't possibly convey the potency, the virility, the heady aroma of verdant life run rampant.


I had a surprising amount of energy despite the small amount of sleep I'd gotten, but poor Franca felt fairly miserable. Daniel offered repeatedly to carry her pack while he remained with us, but she insisted that she wanted to get through it herself.


We had started the trek in the opposite direction from the standard route and so reached what would usually be the last camp site within an hour and a half. We had a snack with Daniel, and he left to retrace his steps back to the car. He and I pleaded for Franca to let him take a few less important items out of her pack to make it lighter, but she dug in her heels adorably, certain that she could do it.

The path held at a fairly steady incline, rising only 500 meters over the course of the 22.3 kilometers we covered the first day. Not difficult, to be sure, but the difference of my five hours of sleep and Franca's one seemed more and more drastic as her headache set in and her shoulders began to cramp up. I insisted, despite her many protests, that she transfer some of her weight into my pack. I argued that it would be a lot easier for me to take on a few extra kilos than to have to carry her, which looked like it might happen if she didn't get some relief. Eventually we got Franca's pack down to about 12 kilos and mine up to about 17. I leapt into the air with my pack on my back and kicked up my heels to show that I felt fine, which at least made her laugh.

Toward the end of the day, we emerged from the forest into a meadow valley. At this point, I started to feel the strain of the previous night's debauchery and the present day's exertion. Franca still felt rotten so I kept my mouth shut, lest she try to take back some of the weight I'd taken off her.


As we started up the mountainside, we estimated that another two hours of walking remained before we would reach the lodge. We were certain to be trekking after sunset. I began to feel sick. But only half an hour later, we saw something decidedly manmade up ahead.

Me: Do you see that?
Franca: Is that the cabin?
Me: It can't be.
Franca: No. You're right.
Me: They're pissing me off putting up random buildings and getting our hopes up.
(Two minutes later.)
Me: I'm almost afraid to say it, but I think that might be it.
Franca: No. I can't think it and have it not be true.
Me: Wait. Wait. Oh my god, it is!
Franca: Oh thank god!

We stumbled into the main room, greeted by raised eyebrows from our fellow hikers. Probably both because of our very late arrival and how wrecked we looked. I prevailed upon Franca to let me prepare our dinner. I massaged her shoulders as the pasta cooked in the billy pot, garnering quite a bit of attention and inquiries as to whether I wanted other customers.

As we ate, the ranger gave a brief orientation, in which he told crazy stories of the unpredictable weather on the Kepler track and how often hikers were forced to crawl across the top ridge on their hands and knees because of the wind. He even told one tale of a father who had to tie a rope around his own waist and that of his 11 year-old son, who kept being picked up by the wind and blown backward. I found myself wishing even more for a clear, temperate morrow.

By 8pm, Franca was fed and asleep. The lights went off at ten. I lingered until 11pm reading in the main room, warm from the fire, before climbing into my freezing bunk and burrowing into my sleeping bag.

It rained in the morning, just as the weather forecast had predicted, so we slept in until 9am and got back on the trail at 10am. Our packs were a little light for having eaten a third of our food stuffs the previous day, but the hardest day of trekking lay before us. Ten minutes after leaving the cabin, we began a 1000 meter incline composed of three hundred zig-zags. I trudged ahead, still feeling a bit better than Franca, and we talked little, all of our concentration dedicated to our efforts. After an hour and a half, we cleared the bush line.


Just above, we emerged onto the ridge of the mountaintops to a crystalline sky and a stunning view of the peaks and the lake below.


Giddy and dripping with sweat, I tore off my fleece and shirt and ran up the closest summit in my sports bra, as Franca shook her head in amusement.


We took our time eating lunch and laying in the sun for an hour, enjoying the scenery. Eventually, we set off for the emergency hut, which we could see in the distance, perched atop the highest section of the ridge. The track was so treacherous that stairs had been constructed along the way.


We paused at the hut to chat with other hikers, all of whom were headed in the opposite direction. One German entertained us with painfully cheesy jokes and an Israeli couple gave us two of their waters, having more than they needed for the remainder of their day. And on we went. The rest of the day's trail ran across the mountain ridges


...including one section that I am 90% sure Aragorn and Legolas ran across in the beginning of "The Two Towers".


We couldn't have asked for better weather. The sun shone powerfully, the wind blew minimally, and we made ambled along smoothly, no ropes necessary!


Four hours into our day, we made the second emergency shelter and hung out with an Alaskan park ranger and his Texan buddy, swapping stories and looking out over the water below.


Then we made the optional climb to the rocky peak of Mount Luxmore to take in the panorama.


An hour later, after a 14.6km day, we reached Luxmore Hut, the only mountaintop cabin on any of the New Zealand Great Walks. We watched the sunset, made some dinner, and listened to the ranger's orientation, which this time involved the display of a 1000 year-old stalactite that a hiker had ripped out of a nearby cave in an attempt to take it home as a souvenir. God, I hope they fined that guy.

We called it an early night, climbing into our group bunks, where 10 people lay on two levels of mattresses right beside each other. The woman beside me snored and kicked, but at least her restlessness ensured that I was awake when 5am rolled around, at which point I bounded outside, still wrapped tight in my sleeping bag to watch the sunset.


At first, I sat alone below more stars than I had ever seen. The night sky was a spangled tapestry that left me breathless. As the dawn approached, I called Franca out to join me and the clouds began rolling in over the lake. I worried that this would obscure the sunrise until I realized that they weren't moving above the horizon. They ebbed and flowed between the tree line and the foot of the cabin, like waves crashing against the shore, as the sun rose beyond.


I do not have the words to describe the splendor of this phenomenon. I can only say, that if ever you have the opportunity to awake above the clouds, take it.


Tearing ourselves away from the view was a challenge, but after a quick breakfast and a brief sojourn to the site of the infamous stalactite theft, we descended into the mist.


The 8km hike back to the car park was estimated at five hours, but we made it in three, gaining cell reception just in time to call Daniel to pick us up. We returned our rented gear, picked up some food, and spent the afternoon laying in the sun in the boys' backyard with 3 other couch surfers who had arrived as well. Franca bragged about my massages, and somehow I ended up working on Mauro, Irina, Nataliya, and Andrew before I had even repacked my bags. Franca settled in for a nap, and Andrew and I went for a swim in Lake Te Anau. The water was refreshingly cold and so clean that we drank it as we swam.

That night, we had a few drinks at the bar where Joseph worked, then headed back for another night of singing and guitar-playing before heading over to Andrew's house to sleep. The boys had taken on so many couch surfers that they had to outsource us! We said goodbye with many hugs and many thanks for some of the best times either of us had had on our trips.

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Location:Te Anau, New Zealand

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