• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

Feb. 26, “Great Walk #2”: Routeburn Track (a “burn” is a glacial and/or rain-fed river). Don and I pushed ourselves. We thought it’d be “so nice” to do our own thing (it was, but we often have no idea how far or how high we’re hiking). We considered doing the whole 20-mile track, but ran into the problem of having no way – nor the time – to get back to our van at the other end (a 3-4 hour drive around the park). We were also starting at 10 a.m., having not figured out how to make French press coffee, toast and cereal, unhook water, electricity, and gas, and batten down the hatches, in less than 2 hours.

We are making progress, though. Don has stopped calling where we are, “Australia.” I have gotten used to owning my own small space around the sink in campsite bathrooms, as I carefully place my toothbrush, bandanna, and facial soap (a recent purchase) on the stainless steel. The same rules of space apply to the campervan. Even though we are only about 10 feet away from our neighbors on either side, couples and families stay to themselves, and most are friendly and respectful. There’s always some version of the tired woman in hiking clothes patiently waving and directing her husband back into the parking space at 7 or 8 pm. And usually a child will arrange his trucks and action figures on our “shared” picnic table or run around screaming and laughing just before bed. I am starting to appreciate the wonders of a mini-fridge that can hold salad fixings, cheese and hummus, to accompany meat on the grill. We even have a small pantry for goodies like chocolate, bread and cookies. Tasks take longer, but are evenly divided: I’ll make the dinner salad and sandwiches for the hike tomorrow if you do the hamburgers. One night, we bought a bag of ice and made gin and tonics. There is, unfortunately, a “situation” with our moldy hiking boots and shoes. But, according to Don, the fact that they are inside our “closet” at the foot of our bed means that they don’t smell as bad. I talked him into some air freshener.

• 

• 

So Tuesday, we did the Routeburn Track in reverse, starting from the Glenorchy side, not knowing how much we could cover before we would need to turn around. The trail starts out steep, then levels off to a gentle climb before reaching some flats. It follows the Routeburn, which flows out of the alpine region from Harris Lake and flattens out in a high river valley before tumbling down again. It took us 2 hours to get to the Routeburn Falls hut, where we had lunch in front of the falls and spoke with an older New Zealand couple who had done Conical Peak in the past. With their encouragement (and Don’s determination to get to the highest point possible), we ascended to the Harris saddle (with its shimmering, turquoise lake) where we took the smaller Conical Peak trail, a steep but short climb to a magnificent 360-degree view, with mountains in every direction. Here, we could look down the valley to see where we had started; in another direction, we could see out to the Tasman Sea. On the way down, for a few minutes, we were behind a woman who had fallen and hit her head (leaving a lot of blood on the rocks). Scary stuff, but the guide had wrapped her head in a bandage and she seemed to be okay. Retracing our steps down the trail, we stopped once to soak our feet in the icy river. We arrived back at the van by 6:15 p.m., drove back to Glenorchy, and treated ourselves to a nice dinner and pints of Mac’s beer. Total hiking distance: 21.2 miles. Elevation gain (on iPhone): 380 floors.

• 

• 

• 

• 

Feb. 27: We slept in (thankfully, we were not too sore) and lounged around in our campervan that “feels just like a Holiday Inn,” having an extra cup of coffee, catching up on the news, and writing. At noon, the rain let up a bit so we walked into town and stumbled into an incredibly, fully organic, much-needed leafy greens and whole grains place to eat (we would go back for date and cheese scones). It dawned on me that the town was big enough to have a movie theatre, so we walked to the outskirts of town to see “Green Book” (which we loved). The Ruby Theatre is delightful, with lounges and big picture books full of Hollywood movie stills. There’s always a break for intermission in New Zealand, which prompted us to buy Kumara (their sweet potato) chips. Don and I had gotten the last two seats, so they put us on the sofa, on top of a soft woolly cover. Pretty darn sweet. As we were walking over, dark clouds were gathering, with sheets of rain obscuring parts of the mountains. Just as the wind was gusting harder, a loud, persistent siren went off in town. I was so scared it was a tornado warning that I ran the rest of the way to the theatre (Don stayed with his manly stride); it turned out to be an emergency call for the volunteer fire brigade. Small world stuff: the young man and his girlfriend who took our tickets met while working at a restaurant below the Parthenon in Nashville. 

• 

• 

After the movie ended, Don and I strolled back into town, bought stuff to make hamburgers, and headed home. To top off this lovely serendipitous day, we ran into a woman at the car place after lunch who was about to rent the last 4X4 “beater” that they would let drive the gravel road to Rob Roy glacier. We made a deal to share the rental fee and meet them the next morning at 7:30 a.m.

• 

• 

• 

• 

Feb. 28: Susan and Roy Lowry, an anesthesiologist and family doctor from Connecticut just a few years older than us, turned out to be great conversationalists and hikers. The brakes on the car were squealing, but we made it out and back. Don and I sat in the back, noting the red deer farms, the sheep, and of course, the ever-variable play of sunlight on the yellow and green mountains. The hike up to Rob Roy Glacier was 9 miles “through”; it is designated “easy,” but here, all that means is that the trail is maintained. The climb wasn’t too bad, though, and we ate lunch in front of the gorgeous, receding glacier and a steep waterfall that held a rainbow at its base. Right now, we’re headed through the town of Haast to Fox Glacier (3.5 hour drive). We stopped at the “blue pools” and got out to take a photo when the road ran smack into the ocean. This whole west coast is pristine; there wasn’t even a road here until 1960. It’s fun to sit back and look out our big window as we travel this windy two-lane road up and over passes and across valleys with enormous lakes and rivers (it’d be great for motorcycling, Dad!).

• 

• 

• 

The images below are of charming Arrowtown, founded in 1863, just outside of Glenorchy. We stopped here for Deep South ice cream (boysenberry and coffee & walnut) and bought a small jar of expensive part-Wanuka honey (the Wanuka flower has all kinds of healthful properties). Leaving Arrowtown, we stopped at Peregrine Winery, where we bought two bottles of wine after tasting the Sauvignon Blancs and Pinot Noirs with the proprietress.

• 

• 

• 

• 

•