Kinloch / Glenorchy
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Everyone... everyone had promised me Queenstown. This magical town where the best of New Zealand’s natural elements come together in one climax of a place. They forgot to mention tourists though... busloads and busloads of tourists being puked out on its humble streets, clogging all access ways and absorbing every last drip of authencity you might be wanting to find here.
Everything I was promised to find in Queenstown I found in Kinloch instead.
Everything I was promised to find in Queenstown I found in Kinloch instead.
Yes, pretty sure you never heard of it, which is the best news you could possibly get in a country raided by tourism such as New Zealand. I even got Google confused, as it’s simply too tiny to be properly recognized. Yet, it’s just 1,5 hour north of Queenstown, following the only road up along Lake Wakatipu. It’s the departure point of many famous multi-day tramps, such as the Rees-Dart Track, the Greenstone & Caples Track and indeed, also the notorious Routeburn.
If you’re not a hiker, a day here will be enough. One unforgettable, mind-boggling, magnificent day.
If you are though, weeks won’t suffice.
If you’re not a hiker, a day here will be enough. One unforgettable, mind-boggling, magnificent day.
If you are though, weeks won’t suffice.
I don’t think many people were as dedicated to reach this place as I was. First I had to wait a handful of days for a landslide to be worked away, caused by the south’s unforgiving winter. Then I had to try to get there somehow, without neither a vehicle nor the willingness to pay for a private shuttle, the only conventional ways to reach this place. Hitchhiking might be rather effortless in summer, now in the year’s coldest season I watched the dust dance lonely circles over deserted roads. Patience is one of the many character traits I slowly learned to acquire during many years of low(est)-budget travelling...
Three rides and many mid-drive walks later me and a backpack half my weight had arrived. I was forced to carry all my food on my travel-battered back, as there’s nothing there. Nothing, but a gleeful inn called Kinloch Lodge where time stands still and voyager’s memories are preserved and recreated. A place where nomads roam, not because the Lonely Planet tells them so, but because the mountains call.
Three rides and many mid-drive walks later me and a backpack half my weight had arrived. I was forced to carry all my food on my travel-battered back, as there’s nothing there. Nothing, but a gleeful inn called Kinloch Lodge where time stands still and voyager’s memories are preserved and recreated. A place where nomads roam, not because the Lonely Planet tells them so, but because the mountains call.
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... A call that reaches my ears loud and clear even on days the landscape hides under thick grey clouds pouring their load over the ever-intensifying greenery. I kicked off with a mellow one: the Diamond Creek Track, nevertheless complicated by intense flooding. Wet-socks-alert! Gore-Tex won’t help you when the trails are so deep under water the streams pour in from the top. I even found myself clambering sideways over rickety metal-wire-fences in order to overcome track-sections that had temporarily turned into convincing rivers. Dedication is key.
What did I get back for that, you ask? Well, this:
What did I get back for that, you ask? Well, this:
As I was wet anyway I figured I might as well follow up with another relatively short day hike: The Glacier Burn Track, 1-2 hours one way steeply up/down. It’s one of those hikes that are presumably very enjoyable in summer, but rather torturous on a wild winter day like this. Not the least because I had to cross a river to only get started, one that was currently knee-high due to recent rainfall. Soaking your fragile skin in sopping wet shoes, the drenched fabric of your socks continuously scratching the pressure points, that’s how blisters are made. It didn’t matter, if it didn’t happen at the very start (read: if you somehow improvised a kayak to reach the other side) you would’ve soaked to the bone in your attempt to ascend the trails.
Indeed, I did stop every ten minutes asking myself why the hell I was doing this. Truth is, there is no answer to that question. More than a leisurely stroll certain hikes take the shape of a mission, a proof of endurance. Fact is that the only thing I thought about during the completion of this self-appointed assignment is the powerful vision of me sitting under a blanket sipping from a cup of hot coffee. A band-aid for a broken morale.
Indeed, I did stop every ten minutes asking myself why the hell I was doing this. Truth is, there is no answer to that question. More than a leisurely stroll certain hikes take the shape of a mission, a proof of endurance. Fact is that the only thing I thought about during the completion of this self-appointed assignment is the powerful vision of me sitting under a blanket sipping from a cup of hot coffee. A band-aid for a broken morale.
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I was going to be tested a little bit more during my attempt to finish a part of the celebrated Routeburn Track. But before that, I claimed my rewards (always eat dessert first!), coming in the shape of delightful sunny weather and crisp blue skies.
In summer you’re required to book this multi-day tramp many months ahead, paying a scandalous NZ $75 for a bunk bed if you’re kiwi and double if your crib stood in another country (we’re talking 24 people in one dormitory – only a mattress provided). New Zealand surely is learning how to milk out their Lord-of-the-Rings-induced tourism boom... In winter however, the most discouraged season, the price is only one hut pass (currently) worth NZ $15. However, a full completion of this generally not-too-difficult trail is only possible for well-experienced parties, equipped with the full apparatus of ice axes, avalanche / personal locator beacons and snow shovels. Or you can just go up and down until the Falls Hut, located just above the bush line, like I did.
I was only on my way for a lousy ten minutes and already understood why this is marked as one of the world’s best hikes.
I was only on my way for a lousy ten minutes and already understood why this is marked as one of the world’s best hikes.
Eye-popping, mind-bending, hair-raising... words don’t even start to describe the vistas my senses were feasting on that day. Far-reaching rivers crawling through yellow flatlands, snowy peaks dramatically rising from the dreamy valleys...
Gorges smoothly carved out by water so blue and so crystal clear I had to rub my eyes a few times to make sure I wasn’t sucked into some children’s picture book. Water safe to drink right from the source, providing a startling brain-freeze after every refreshing sip.
The Routeburn Track is overwhelming.
And you don’t have to be that much of a hiker to witness its splendours. New Zealand’s Department of Conservation (DOC) has carefully set out a selection of ‘Great Walks’ to make some of their most popular natural treasures accessible to all ages, to all levels of fitness. And to guide all tourist masses to the exact same places, keeping the majority of the most pristine backcountry hikes all to themselves... That said, the Great Walks’ trails are flat and wide, eliminating all fear of difficulty that might be tying you to your comfortable chair.
Way too soon I arrived at the Falls Hut, which kind of unsettled me as it looked more like a new-built residential area than a basic wooden shelter. I threw my backpack down in the 24-bunks-dormitary, a 100% snoring guarantee in summer (not to mention the smell – there are no showers), but a private room for me in winter. I shivered, as the sudden halt in physical activity provided a reality-check with the freezing temperatures... I knew it was going to be a cold night, but exactly how cold I was going to learn very soon...
And you don’t have to be that much of a hiker to witness its splendours. New Zealand’s Department of Conservation (DOC) has carefully set out a selection of ‘Great Walks’ to make some of their most popular natural treasures accessible to all ages, to all levels of fitness. And to guide all tourist masses to the exact same places, keeping the majority of the most pristine backcountry hikes all to themselves... That said, the Great Walks’ trails are flat and wide, eliminating all fear of difficulty that might be tying you to your comfortable chair.
Way too soon I arrived at the Falls Hut, which kind of unsettled me as it looked more like a new-built residential area than a basic wooden shelter. I threw my backpack down in the 24-bunks-dormitary, a 100% snoring guarantee in summer (not to mention the smell – there are no showers), but a private room for me in winter. I shivered, as the sudden halt in physical activity provided a reality-check with the freezing temperatures... I knew it was going to be a cold night, but exactly how cold I was going to learn very soon...
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You see, in winter the DOC stops servicing the huts, which includes filling up the fire wood. Why? I have no clue, as this seems to be the only season during which this is truly necessary. As all supplies were long gone I figured I might go out, roaming the forests for some timber to get me through the night. Nice try, but won’t work when all is wet and snowy. Just to know I exhausted every option I laid out the wet branches in the standard fire-tipi, reality quickly catching up with the impossibility of this ridiculous attempt.
I was in a hut on top of a snowy mountain, it was -7 degrees and I had no fire wood. Then a blizzard kicked in.
I was in a hut on top of a snowy mountain, it was -7 degrees and I had no fire wood. Then a blizzard kicked in.
There’s something about these situations you get yourself into and no one but you have to deal with its consequences. It’s when character is built. You can’t call your mommy, your cries for help aren’t going to be heard and no one is going to hold your hand when times get rough. So you might as well enjoy it instead.
Which isn’t very hard in a place as earth-shattering spectacular as this. That’s right, you’re going.
Which isn’t very hard in a place as earth-shattering spectacular as this. That’s right, you’re going.
| Kinloch / Glenorchy Walks Brochure |
On the other side of the lake you’ll find the more well-known town of Glenorchy, a popular daytrip for (mainly Asian) tourists. These photos will convince you to make a short stop:
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