After almost half a year of waiting, it was finally time to start some of the multi-day hikes that I was really looking forward to. The first hike was going to be the Milford.
For some context, the Milford Track is billed as “the finest walk in the world“, and bookings are extremely competitive for this four day, three night hike. The website actually crashed this year due to the sheer volume of locals and international tourists trying to secure a booking on this hike. Getting tickets for this felt akin to trying to obtain tickets for a concert. In fact, it might be easier to get tickets for a Taylor Swift concert.
For the Milford, even after you get a ticket, you have to hope for good weather across four days. Milford Sound is one of the wettest places in the world and it rains about six months out of each year. Sure, you can still hike in the rain and some might arguably say that Milford Sound is best experienced in rain, but I was hoping to have a more comfortable experience. Thankfully, luck was on my side and the weather was mostly perfect. I brought a trail diary with me to write down my thoughts everyday, so here’s an abridged version of my recollections from that diary for the first two days of the Milford Track.
15 Nov 2024, 4.18pm
Milford Track Day 1
I was waiting for months to do the Milford, but I was feeling really nervous the few days before. That was mostly due to the fact that I was unfamiliar with multi-day hiking. My mind was racing, worrying about what food I should take, what if my backpack is too heavy, what if I get lost, so on and so forth. It’s pretty normal for me to get anxious before a big endeavour, I’ve had that trait since I was young. But I knew that once I started, I was going to be fine.
The Milford Track is not directly accessible by car, and requires taking a ferry which brings you to the start point. I started the day heading to Te Anau Downs to catch the ferry, and after some confusion, I found the boat. Once I saw the other people on the boat, my anxious energy slowly dissipated. The hike didn’t feel as scary, knowing that other people of varying fitness levels were also going to be hiking alongside me. As is inevitable, I started comparing my equipment with everyone else. I started scanning at the footwear choices on the boat, and pretty much everyone wore hiking boots and shoes while I decided to wear trail runners. Was I underprepared? Or were they overprepared? Or maybe people just wear what they are comfortable in.
The ferry ride itself was fairly straightforward initially. It was an overcast day so there wasn’t much in the way of scenic shots. That soon changed as we approached the start point. The boat drove through the fiords and the glaciers, partly masked by the spectre of clouds that would soon morph into raindrops. You could feel the sense of isolation increasing with the passing of each fiord, knowing that you were heading into a territory that is uninhabited and left untouched, save for the limited pool of hikers that are allowed onto these hallowed grounds. That’s when it started to hit me, knowing that I was actually doing the Milford.
We reached the start point, and I tried to take in the moment. I was able to be present and experience a sense of wonder for about 20 seconds before I was sharply brought back to reality by one of the mainstays of the Fiordlands: sandflies. According to Maori folklore, the goddess of death, Hinenui-te-Po, released sandflies – called te namu, or little devils – into Milford Sound in an attempt to keep people away from such a beautiful place. She feared the landscape created by Tu-te-raki-whanoa was so glorious that people would want to live there forever.
I took a quick picture at the start point for posterity, and set off on the hike. There was to be a downpour in the afternoon, so I wanted to avoid the rain as much as possible. I knew I was a relatively fast walker and wanted to challenge myself. The map said it would take about 90 minutes to reach Clinton Hut, and I had a feeling I could do in an hour. It was a fairly flat track, so I moved along quickly.
One thing that immediately struck me was how dense the rainforest was. It was an endless row of trees engulfed with green moss. As I walked, I could feel the history of the area that I was walking in, having been beautifully preserved. I brought my camera with me and took pictures, filling my memory card with myriad shades of greens and blues. I reached the hut in 50 minutes, well above the suggested time and got there before the rain.
One of the reasons I bought a digital camera was because these pictures from my phone can’t quite capture the beauty of the area I was hiking in
I sat down at the common area to have lunch along with the other hikers. I was a bit apprehensive about being able to make friends since I was a solo hiker and pretty much everyone else came in various groups of twos, threes and fours. Thankfully, the hike itself is a good conversation starter, and I quickly got chatting to two couples, who would become my hiking confidants over the next few days. We shared about our travels, shared our food and played various card games since there is no reception or internet access throughout the hike.
Thinking back to the few days before I started the hike, I was really proud of myself for deciding to go on a multi-day hike alone, despite my fears. One thing I’ve realised over the past 18 months ever since I’ve started meditating and taking better care of my mental health is that things like fear and anxiety are always going to exist, but that shouldn’t stop you from living your life anyway. I couldn’t imagine doing this a year ago, but I’m so glad I’m doing it now.
The rest of the day was just about making dinner, listening to the hut ranger’s evening talk and seeing some glowworms in a nearby cave. I went to bed around 10pm, dreaming about tomorrow’s adventures. Overall, an easy but nice first day.
15 Nov 2024, 5.36pm
Milford Track Day 2
The second day started out average. I didn’t feel like I got the best sleep, because it took me about an hour to actually fall asleep. Strangely enough, my Garmin said I was at 90% recovery, so I suppose I must have rested well. I wanted to get an early start to the day, mostly because I wanted to avoid the crowd of hikers and also because I wanted to hike alone. I set off at 7.30am.
I usually meditate for about 15 minutes in the morning before I start my day, but I decided to meditate on the go. Part of it was that I wanted to be moving early in the day, and also because I thought the Milford Track was as perfect a place as you could get for a walking meditation. About an hour into the second day, my back and shoulders started aching which left me wondering if I had packed my bag wrongly.
The first few hours were filled with rainforests and more moss, until I spotted a clearing which led into a small path. I saw glimpses of waterfalls which piqued my curiosity. I knew there was a good chance to see lots of them today, because it rained all night yesterday. I went through the clearing, and walked right into my first glimpse of the stunning waterfalls of Milford.
It was absolutely beautiful, and I just had to stop for a while to take it all in. As I continued further into the clearing, there were just heaps of waterfalls everywhere you looked. Peaks and peaks of water just gushing down with unmitigated gravitational force. The only thing that stopped me from standing there any longer was the sandflies and mosquitos. Stand idle for two minutes, and they will descend on you.
I kept telling myself that I shouldn’t rush this hike and that I should try to be present, but it’s hard to do that when the insects are waiting for you to let down your guard so that they can take their proverbial pound of flesh (in this case, your blood) in exchange for presenting you with views that are unparalleled. In a way, it forces you to appreciate the temporality of your time in these rainforests. The Fiordlands still belong to the trees, birds and insects first and foremost, and you are merely another passing visitor who should be appreciative of your privileged access.
I kept walking at a fairly brisk pace, doing all the various small side trips to the hidden lake and waterfall. I thought of stopping by one of the shelters for lunch, but the mosquitos quickly disabused me of that fantasy. I took a 5 minute break instead to put down my backpack and crunched my protein bar while walking in a circle around one of the shelters, to avoid getting bitten.
The final 2/3rd of the day’s hike was fairly standard, my only annoyance was needing to constantly adjust my backpack. I’m hoping I don’t have that problem tomorrow, when my bag should be getting lighter from the food that I consume. Otherwise, I was fantasising about getting to the next hut within 4-5 hours, faster than the suggested 6 hours. I’ve realised at this point that I am a competitive hiker, wanting to set personal challenges for myself by walking faster than the average hiker. After all, if I walked faster, I would also carry a heavy pack for a shorter amount of time.
My aspirational goal soon hit a roadblock when I saw a signboard about 4 hours in, which said there was another 2 hours to the hut. I tried to get to the hut in 1 hour, but the trail wasn’t budging. There were more rocks, more inclines and my pack was really starting to pressure-test the muscles of my upper back. Halfway through this 2 hour journey, I bumped into 3 park rangers who were having lunch, and had a nice chat with them about the trail and about Singapore. It’s funny how now that I am in NZ, I take every opportunity tot tell others about how nice Singapore is.
I saw more gorgeous waterfalls and rock formations after passing the rangers, which was a nice distraction from my physical fatigue. Unfortunately, the last portion of the hike was still yet to come, and I was getting increasingly dehydrated and tired. The walk to the hut felt endless, as I kept looking for a sign which said “30 minutes to Mintaro Hut”. Despite my Garmin map showing that I should have arrived at the hut by now, there was no presence of said hut. Later on, I would meet another park ranger, who told me that the actual hut was further than the map, as it was not updated. I groaned internally, but thankfully in another 30 minutes I reached the hut.
There are no showers on the Milford Track, so your only chance to get clean comes in the form of taking a dip in the lakes near the hut. I thought I’d try that later, even though the lake was going to be freezing cold. I got to my bunk, put my stuff down and had my lunch, which was a mix of cheese, crackers and hummus. On multi-day hikes, you learn a lot about yourself, including your appetite and food cravings. I regret not bringing more cheese, chocolate and gummies, worrying that they would add more weight to my backpack. But can you really put a price (or weight) on using sugar for emotional regulation and morale? I’m making sure now to bring more sugar for my next hike, extra weight be damned.
I had my lunch, and soon the ladies at my table were talking about swimming in the lake. Given how sticky I was, I thought I should brave the cold and go for a dip. The sun was slowly coming up, so I quickly got a change of clothes and walked to the lake, which was just a 2 minute walk. I got to the lake and spotted a whio, which was a very rare bird to spot in the wild. I went back to the hut to get my camera to take some pictures.
After I took my pictures, the two ladies left the lake and it was just me. They told me the lake was freezing and I was hesitant to jump in. But I was here, and when else would I get a chance to take a dip in a wild lake in the middle of the Fiordlands? (Plenty more times actually, as I would find out the following day and on my other hikes in the Fiordlands. But that doesn’t fit with my current mental framing to get me to jump into the lake so let’s forget that for a minute).
I took off my shirt and tried to slowly dip my body into the lake, but the mossy rocks had other ideas. I slipped and before I knew it, my shorts and upper body was submerged in the glacial water. My body and mind fell into a temporary state of shock as I tried to breathe through the experience. “Maybe I should learn the Wim-Hof breathing method“ was the only coherent thought I had, as the cold rendered my brain dysfunctional. I jumped out after 10 seconds. My first ever cold plunge.
The interesting thing was, as soon as I stepped out, I felt like going back in. The adrenaline and serotonin surged through my body like an electrical current, almost putting me in a state of temporal delirium. I took a few more dips, plunging my body deeper each time as my body adjusted to the temperature. I felt really good afterward, and headed back to the hut.
The past few hours have been really nice, just sitting in the hut and chatting with people. I’m glad I finally started on this diary as well, its nice to just keep writing and to remember these memories when I look back. I’m going to make some noodles for dinner, and have a nice night. I’m really excited for tomorrow’s walk, and hopefully can get some good sleep. Til tomorrow.