New Zealand's Kepler Track – All Four Seasons in Four Days

We had recently finished our traverse of a snow-covered, knife-edged ridge line when we stopped for our trail-side lunch. The clouds had opened up to our left offering a front seat view of far off valleys and white-tipped mountains while we ate our sandwiches.

Behind us, the clouds soon lifted there as well exposing a turquoise blue lake far below. With our backs to it, we wouldn’t have noticed it had it not been pointed out to us by another trekker who was passing us by.

We were on the 60-kilometer Kepler Track in Fiordland National Park in New Zealand’s southern island. This track is only 30 years old having been built in 1988 to take the pressure off the nearby and very popular Milford Sound and Routeburn Tracks.

When I booked this Kepler Track hiking trip many, many months ago, I read that, on average, in the month of February, only 8 days out of the 28 have measurable rain, less than any other month of the year. Well, it seems all of these 8 days are occurring while we are here in New Zealand. But isn’t that par for the course? Most of our many treks in the many parts of the world we have been to have been rainy and dreary.

I mentioned our usual bad luck with weather to this gentleman who was waiting for the shuttle bus to the trailhead with us and a few others. He was from New Zealand’s North Island. He seemed convinced that the forecast for clearing skies was on target and that all would be well for the next several days. Being a local, I was heartened by his conviction. He was hiking the Kepler in a clockwise direction while we were doing counter-clockwise.

Luxmore Hut, 8.5 miles

The flat and level first part of the Kepler track was in the deep and humid forest with fern and moss everywhere. Rain and heavy cloud cover accompanied us the entire way. An occasional glimpse could be had of Lake Te Anau which the trail ran parallel to.

After a couple of hours, the trail veered away from the lake and began it’s 4-mile long and arduous 2600-foot climb to the flats above tree line. MK brought her iPod and listened to tunes to help motivate her during this climb, much the same way she does when working out in our home gym. She’d call back to me with the name of the song and the artist so that I could keep a tune in my head as well. On occasion, I could hear her sing along with the songs and...well... let’s just say it’s pretty atrocious. It’s no wonder we haven’t seen much wildlife.

I walked ahead and got to Luxmore Hut early and snagged some nice bunk spaces before returning back down the trail to greet MK. She was already nearing the hut when I walked out the door. She found some new strength and finished the last mile quickly. The weather never really cleared. There was a brief view of the lake and valley far below, but otherwise, the fog and cold rain continued into the evening.

 

Luxmore Hut

Life in a hut, refugio, gite, or any other type of communal living space is always interesting, especially in international locales. The multi-lingual chatter and the camaraderie amongst all of us like-minded hikers brings everyone into a convivial mood, all willing to talk with you about your home and your interests.

Tonight, there was the Australian wearing a Green Bay Packers ball cap. He knew more about the Packer, Bears, past playoff and Super Bowl games, trades, statistics, other trivial football matters, and the NFL in general than most average fans in the U.S. do. He said he doesn’t have many friends in Australia who follow the NFL, so was pleased to have an American on the trail to talk to about the sport.

A lady from the east coast of China was solo walking. She had two other friends who were going to walk with her, but they backed out at the last minute. That didn’t deter her and she went ahead alone anyway.

A Dutch girl, who we later learned was named Sophie, had piercing blue eyes and loved to chit chat with everyone, including us. She was six months into eight month leave of absence from life, leaving her job, home, friends and family to see the world while still young.

A couple from the U.K., Robert and Laura, who were not much older than us, shared that they walk and hike between 1000-1500 miles a year. They gave us good advice on long distance trails we should consider should we visit their country in the future. Another older U.K. Couple, John and Sue, were the quiet ones, keeping to themselves off in a corner. It was hard to strike up a conversation with them.

We then chatting briefly with two older Israelis, they moved on soon afterwards and began to spend time around all of the other pretty lady hikers using their wit to charm them and make them laugh. One of those lady hikers was Lynn from Germany. We met her back at our hostel in town the morning we started our hike. That morning, she asked our opinion about all of the food she was taking on the hike that she had spread out on the dining room table. There was more there than what MK and I were taking for the two of us.

Our conversation was interrupted when 7:30 came around and the time for the resident ranger to give his nightly talk. He cautioned us about the trail tomorrow which would likely have long stretches of snow pack that we’d have to walk through. He also said to watch out for the Kea birds for, while friendly, they’re thieves as well and will take off with any loose gear you may inadvertently leave laying around. “If you don’t pay attention,” he said, “you will be playing ‘Russian Roulette’ with your gear. But, we don’t say ‘Russian Roulette’ anymore. We now say ‘American Roulette’ because of the new U.S. president, since you no longer know with him what will happen from one day to the next.”

His opinion reminded me of one I received last week while on our cross-country bus ride from Christchurch to Queenstown. A Kiwi, about our age or maybe a little older, sat across the aisle and chatted me up for most of the 7-hour drive. When he learned I was from the U.S., he shared how much he enjoyed visiting our country, especially the Idaho and Washington State region for it reminds him a lot of this portion of his country we were driving through.

Invariably, the conversation turned to politics. “With your new president, you’re certainly living in some interesting times,” he said, carefully sizing me up as to what side of the political spectrum I align myself with. “Well, it’s been one big embarrassment as far as I’m concerned,” I responded without much hesitation. He leaned over the aisle to get closer to me, whispering “It’s been one big embarrassment to the entire free world, I’m afraid.”  He leaned back in his seat, eyeing my reaction as I nodded my head in agreement.

So there you have it: two unsolicited and unfiltered opinions, likely representative of many foreigners, on what they think of the man-child we currently have in the White House.

Iris Burn Hut, 8.8 miles

The cloud ceiling hung low, but not low enough to block the view of the lake and its islands far below. Soon though, after starting our ascent to the highest point on the trail, the fog and cloud bank moved in to envelop us in the grey and cold.

It had snowed at these higher elevations over the past several days. Parts of the trail were covered requiring us to negotiate long stretches in slippery fashion.

We descended below the cloud deck as we left the summit. It was here that we stopped for our lunch break. There were stupendous views of distant snow-capped peaks, lush and green hanging valleys, rushing streams, and full flowing waterfalls. This truly was “Lord of the Rings” country. At this point, we had caught up with other hikers (or, more likely, they caught up to us), many of whom we chatted with last night in the hut. Together, we reveled in the scenery and shared what we had seen. It was like we were all long lost friends.

 

As we chatted, a young woman, likely in her mid to late twenties, came running up the trail from behind us. She had on only running shoes and shorts, a t-shirt, and a vest that carried her water and camera. She said she was just out for the day, starting at the Control Gates (where we began a day and a half ago) and, since she didn’t have any hut reservations, was going to finish the entire trail, all 36 to 40 miles of it, by the end of today. We, in turn, will struggle to finish the trail two to three days from now.

Soon after, coming from the opposite direction, was the man from North Island, who we talked to at the shuttle bus stop the other day. He said the views would continue for the next several miles.

We later passed the Israelis who were sitting on a rock having their lunch. In harmony, they sang “Sweet Home Chicago” to Mary Kay. Later, and this is an example of how small of a world we live in, we saw George and his girlfriend coming up the trail. George was the friendly young man who checked us in to our hostel back in Queenstown late last week. I didn’t recognize him with his sunglasses on, but he was quick to recognize us as we passed each other on the trail. To put this into perspective, this would be like being greeted by a friendly front desk clerk at a hotel somewhere in Chicago, only to see that same clerk one to two weeks later on a trail in, say, Starved Rock State Park in downstate Illinois.

Iris Burn Hut

The long descent into the Iris Burn valley was steep but made tolerable by the trail’s numerous switchbacks. We were some of the first ones to arrive at the Iris Burn hut, which given our slow walking pace is quite unusual, allowing us to have our pick at the available bunk spaces. Sophie from Holland had caught up to us at this point and chose a bunk near us on the upper floor of the hut, which should be warmer that the rest of the bunk rooms.

It was always a nice advantage to get to the hut before many of the others. Ground level bunk space is prized. You try to avoid being left with no option but the top bunk or a platform with a dozen mattresses you need to share with others. You also want to seize on key dining table space that getting in early allows. Some good light (but not too close to doors or windows to avoid getting chilly when staying in the mountain-top huts), comfortable and sufficient elbow space, and easy access to the nearby toilets and the gas cook tops are all marks of prime real estate.

Before dinner, MK took advantage of the sunshine and sat on the hut’s deck for some tan time. I typed in my journal and did some light reading. Others were doing the same mix of things. Boy, it sure is nice to be warm and dry for a change!!

Moturau Hut, 9.8 miles

 A flat walk through the forest marked today’s 9 to 10 mike walk. It became somewhat monotonous really. The only break in the trees came when we crossed a massive landslide area that back in 1984, occurred after many days of torrential rains. The jumble of rocks and lack of any mature trees opened up the views of the valley’s surrounding mountains.

By mid-afternoon, we were at the Moturau Hut, our stay for the evening. It is sited along Manapouri Lake, a stunning body of water framed by forest and snow-capped mountains.

Moturau Hut

The sandy beach in front of the hut allowed plenty of private spots to soak in the long sought-after sunshine. Some of our fellow trekkers even braved the cold snow-fed lake water for what must have been a very bracing swim. Many of them, MK included, would suffer from multiple sand fly bites which would unmercifully sting one’s ankles, feet, and just about any exposed areas of skin. She and the others looked like they succumbed to a measles outbreak

Control Gates, 9.3 Miles

 Our last day on the trail was pretty unremarkable save for the Kea bird we saw up in a tree. It turned into a green flash as it flew off after MK pointed it out to me. Otherwise, the walk was a long 9 plus miles in a tunnel of trees.

We passed Lynn from Germany who we met at the hostel last week and in our huts throughout our Kepler journey. We said our goodbyes with hugs and handshake. I told her I wished that we had someone of Angela Merkel’s standing instead of Trump as our president. “Thank you! That’s good to hear!” She seemed proud to call her country home. “How did he even get the votes to get elected?” I had no answer for her that would have made sense. I shrugged my shoulders in a I-don’t-know-kind-of-way and waved goodbye as we walked on ahead of her.

We continued to make good progress eventually finishing our 9.3 miles in only 3-1/2 hours. Sophie, the girl from Holland, showed up at the car park soon after we did. So too did the quiet couple, John and Sue from the U. K. Sophie graciously offered to drive us into town foregoing the need for us to wait two plus hours for our scheduled shuttle bus pick up.

Sophie, from Holland, with MK

After dropping off John and Sue at an edge-of-town campground, we continued into Te Anau to a cafe where we bought Sophie lunch to thank her for the ride. We said our good byes with hugs and email exchanges and parted ways, her off to a hot shower at her hostel, us to a cafe for beer and sparkling water while we waited for our bus which would take us back to Queenstown for the night before our flight out tomorrow.

The Kepler Track was tough. It turned out wonderfully though. We experienced all four seasons over a four-day period. Rain, wind, snow, fog, sandy beaches, warm sunshine, and humid forests. All of this was packed into our short visit to the far corner of wonderful New Zealand.

A video of this trek and the one we did earlier on the Routeburn Track is at the following link: