The Finest Milford Track: A Wet and Bumpy Milford Track

Mintaro Hut to Dumpling Hut via MacKinnon Pass Shelter

All 12 of us were therefore expecting not to walk early on Saturday morning. I went to bed early, but could not sleep well without my merino liner. On the Kepler Track and for the 2 nights I had spent at the Clinton Hut, I had folded it several times to make a rectangle the size of a pillow. On top of my blue rain jacket, itself folded a couple of times, It had been very helpful as a thin and soft cushion.

I listened to the rain beating the roof all night. No way we’ll be walking, I kept telling myself. Would they fly us back? Hopefully not. I was prepared to wait for a couple of days at Mintaro. I only had enough food for one extra day, thanks to what Matthew had given me at Clinton Hut, but in case we were prevented from walking on Saturday it would be easy for me to make my food last one more day.

In spite of not sleeping well, and in spite of the snoring, I got out of bed at 5.45 am, ready to walk in case Janet got the greenlight from DOC at 7.00 am. And she did get it. How much rain? 40 mm in the morning, and 36 mm in the afternoon. 76 mm, that meant the equivalent of 162 mm with the rain falling on the snow and melting it. What about wind? Yes, it will be very windy at the top, she said.

The equivalent of 162 mm of rain after all the overnight deluge, plus the wind. I knew that it would also be cold while climbing to the MacKinnon Pass, and especially at the summit; I went to the bunkroom and soon came back with 4 layers: 1 merino thermal, my red pétanque T-Shirt, my yellow ochre sweatshirt, and my blue Goretex rain jacket. For the first time after purchasing then 4 years ago, I also had my waterproof trousers on. I decided not to wear my blue poncho, the one that had protected me over 5 days of pouring rain on my Camino. Ponchos are very good as long as you walk on flat surfaces and as long as there is no wind. When the wind blows it is difficult to climb while wearing them, and the wind easily blows them away.

‘You will get wet,’ Janet told me as I said good-bye. ‘In fact, you deserve to get wet. You haven’t got wet yet. And be careful of the wind, especially on the pass.’
‘I won’t take risks,’ I replied.
‘You are very experienced,’ Janet told me as I said good-bye.

Four of us left first, around 7.35 am: Jenny, Kelly, Sarah and me. The ascent started almost immediately, with me at the back. I thought that the pace of the other three was a bit too fast, especially with Sarah’s 14-15 kg backpack (mine was about 9 kg), but I let them go. As it was raining, the faster we got to the summit the better it would be, I thought. However, after about 20 minutes I started to feel very warm. I called Sarah to tell her to carry on while I removed one layer.

It took me about 5 minutes to start walking again. The rain got worse, and the wind started to blow. It would be useless to try and catch them, I said to myself. They must be at least 500 m ahead, and walking faster under the rain and wind wouldn’t be wise. The main thing was to reach the MacKinnon Pass Shelter, where they would wait for me anyway. As from that moment, without even realising what was coming, I forgot Sarah, Jenny, and Kelly and only thought about getting to the shelter safely. I thought of the moment, while saying good-bye to the gang, when I had had an ominous feeling, and when I had promised to be careful.

Climbing, climbing, non-stop. And the rain didn’t seem it would be stopping soon either. My brown cap got wet, which made me uncomfortable on the head. I took it off, shook it twice, and put it back, only for it to get soaked up again within a couple of minutes. I placed the hoodie of my rain jacket on the cap, but that made it press the nose pads of my glasses on my nose, making it painful. So I took off the hoodie and once more, after a couple of minutes, took off the cap, shook it twice, and then placed it again on my head.

Until then, which was about 40 minutes after leaving Mintaro Hut, it hadn’t hadn’t been easy, but it had been more or less like a game. And then the game gradually turned into a nightmare. The track was now full of water running down, albeit not deep, which slowed me down a bit. The rain and the wind got worse. And the worst thing was that my hands and fingers were now very cold. I had my snow gloves in my backpack; at that point I would have been able to take them out and wear them. But unaware of what was waiting for me, I continued to climb with resolution.

All of a sudden, I saw 2 white mountain orchids in from of me, right on the border of the track. They were so beautiful, the white bells; I wanted to take a photo and so I could send it later to my daughter: my grand-daughters would be so happy to see it. I decided to carry on, though. My mobile phone would get wet anyway. And then, about 20 m uphill, there was a bunch of the same white orchids, and then another bunch…. Over the next 50 m or so,I must have seen at least 20 bunches. I couldn’t stop thinking of how beautiful they were in spite of the rain, the wind, and the cold, which all three were threatening to get worse and worse. The white mountain orchids were there to illuminate my Milford Track, which had been rendered dull by the rain, wind, and cold. I even had the time to look at the leaves of the orchid plants carefully. They were small dark-green circles, about 12 cm in diameter, and looked like small lotus leaves, albeit almost flat and with an almost circular ridge.

As I climbed the zig-zagging track with the rain water pouring down it, the ascent started to seem never-ending; that was the result of being uncomfortable: my cap and head wet, my fingers half-frozen, my hands cold, half of my rain jacket completely wet, which started to help the rain water to seep in and get my inner layers wet.

I must have been one hour from the MacKinnon Pass Shelter when the rain and wind got even worse, making the climb even more difficult. The visibility got down to about 30 m, and as the wind speed increased and as the rain got worse and worse that would gradually decrease. My glasses were wet; I had no way of drying them. I did have paper tissues in one of the pockets of my rain jacket, but I knew they would be wet by now.

My fingers were frozen; I could not even bend them now. I could still hold my hiking poles between my thumbs and my forefingers. There was no point trying to get the snow gloves out of my backpack now. I tried rubbing the palm of the right hand on the fingers of the left hand, and then the palm of the left hand on the fingers of the right palm, but that meant holding both hiking poles in the hand while doing the rubbing, which, while climbing, was difficult. So I placed both poles in one hand, shook the other hands 2 or 3 times, and then placed the hiking poles in the other hand and shook the free hand 2 or 3 times, and that’s what I did for about an hour.

The climb was hard. The irony was that when the slope started to get less steep it got even harder. The visibility got worse, now only a few metres. I had to pull down the frame of my glasses every 5 metres to make sure I was on the right track. And then I saw the memorial and was relieved. I thought of Sarah saying, after reaching Mintaro Hut yesterday, that she was thinking of climbing to the memorial after some rest. I didn’t understand why she would do that, considering that we were expected to come here today anyway. Maybe she was thinking we wouldn’t be able to complete the track?

I was still about 20 minutes from MacKinnon Pass Shelter. I soon saw a sign with the mention ‘Hightest Point: 1154 m’ and, as from that point to the shelter, it was all either flat or descending. That doesn’t mean it was easy now. On the contrary, the pass was the most dangerous part. I could almost see nothing. I had to look well to make sure I wasn’t going off-track, keeping focus and determination while suffering from the wetness of the driving rain and wind, the frozen fingers, and the cold hands. At one point, less than a kilometre from the shelter, I slid on a rock and fell, fortunately on my back. I stood up and walked again, telling myself, ‘Almost there, Rafick. You are very experienced.’

And there it was! MacKinnon Pass Shelter! I wasn’t sure which way the entrance was. At first I went to the right and walked about 70m, and then realised it was the other way. After climbing the steps and pushing the entrance door, I saw Jenny, Kelly, and Sarah. Jenny and Kelly smiled gently. Sarah had no reaction.

‘You can’t imagine how hard it has been,’ I said. And I started to talk about my ordeal. No reaction on their part though. And then I realised my mistake. They must have faced the same or similar ordeal, or maybe one that was worse than mine. I stopped talking (that was a good decision anyway; I later realised that they hadn’t understood anything I said: it was all gibberish because of my cold lips; I was unable to utter comprehensible words until I wasn’t too cold anymore.

Sarah, who had her hands around her huge Jetbull pot, finally spoke. She cried while climbing, she said. She even thought of triggering her PLB. That would have been useless anyway. The weather was too bad for Search & Rescue to come. The best solution was to reach the shelter, and that’s what she did.

I hadn’t imagined that it would be that hard for Sarah. She had started with determination, just like Jenny, Kelly, and me. Even though I was behind them and climbing alone, which was dangerous in the wild weather, I never lost hope that I would reach the shelter safely. In the sort of quandary we got through while climbing from Mintaro Hut to the MacKinnon Pass Shelter, and even though we are suffering, it was very important to maintain high spirits and to think clearly. Losing hope is the worst thing that can happen. Combined with the adverse physical forces, it leads to destruction.

Yes, if you find yourself caught up in doldrums, do not let your mind keep focusing on the negative forces. Think of better times you have lived, or what you’re dreaming to live. Think of those you love and who love you, or those close to you. If you can do that, you will be able to go through any hard situations, unless you are carried away by an avalanche or hit by a falling tree.

I kept rubbing my hands against each other. I would have liked so much to get them close to Saran’s Jetbull pot, but didn’t say anything. When my fingers started to get more comfortable, which must have been at least 15 minutes after reaching the shelter, I ate 2 small snack balls. Tim, Mike, Victoria, and Victoria arrived and started to make coffee. Jenny and Kelly left, saying it was better to avoid getting cold. Victoria, and then Tim, asked me whether I would like a cup of hot coffee. I replied I was OK.

I tried putting my snow gloves on, but my fingers were still a bit stiff. I looked through the window and found that the weather had improved slightly. It was still windy, but the rain had calmed down. I tried forcing my fingers into the gloves again, without success. I found the 2 pairs of cheap garden gloves in a pocket of my rain jacket; they were wet.

About 10 minutes after the 4 Australians arrived, Sarah and I left. That is when it started to rain again, albeit not as hard as before. I knew that we had been through the hardest part, and Sarah knew it too. The track was not well formed, there were roots and rocks and water on the way, but we descended briskly. We stopped several times to take photos, and Sarah asked me to take a photo of hers.

When we reached the DOC sign 2 minutes from the Quintin Day Shelter, I shouted, ‘Dumpling Hut one hour!’ Sarah didn’t understand, so I repeated, ‘Dumpling Hut one hour.’ We placed our backpacks next to a wooden bench outside the shelter and pushed the door to find Jenny and Kelly drinking tea. We were agreeably surprised that hot water, tea, coffee, sugar, and even powdered milk were waiting for us. All courtesy of Ultimate Hikes. It was so good to have a good cup of boiling hot tea! I also ate 3 snack balls. That would mean me walking from Mintaro Hut to Dumpling hut on 5 snack balls and a cup of tea.

The ascent to Sutherland Falls was quite steep. Jenny, Kelly, and Sarah climbed briskly. I decided not to go too fast. There was no point rushing, I told myself. It was still early, and Dumpling Hut was only one hour away. In normal situations I would be reaching the falls in about 30 minutes, but on that day I must have taken the standard 45 minutes. At several points it seemed that I was walking along a stream, and I kept wondering whether I was still on the right track. After crossing a long swing bridge and finding water puddles on the way, I thought I was on the way back to Mintaro Hut. I almost turned back, and then told convinced myself that the 3 others must be in front of me, and that if I did find myself going back to Mintaro Hut it wouldn’t be difficult to turn round and get back to the Sutherland Shelter.

So I kept walking. On rocks, up or down the short streams on the track, up steps with water running down them, in puddles, and sometimes on mud. Soon I reached a sign saying: Sutherland falls 580m. Ouf! I was relieved. Only 580 metres. After about 500 m, though, I found another sign repeating the same thing, and realised that they were talking about the height of Sutherland Falls, the tallest waterfalls in New Zealand.

I must have been 50m from the falls, when I could hear them roaring, that was when I saw Jenny and Kelly going down. When I reached the foot of the majestic falls Sarah had just started to go back. ‘You go,’ I told her. ‘I’ll take a few photos and then come.’ I took 3 shots very quickly and started to go down. Later on, at Dumpling Hut, I realised that I had a finger on the camera while taking the photos.

The descent was quite easy, and I reached the shelter fast. Jenny and Kelly had already left, and soon Sarah and I were walking too. It took us about 45 minutes to reach Dumpling Hut. After getting into the first bunkhouse and unpacking, I walked to the kitchen.

‘Are you Ian?’ I asked the Ian.
‘You must be Rafick,’ he replied. ‘You made it.’

Jenny and Kelly had lit the fire and were enjoying the heat and drying their clothes. With only 5 snack balls in my stomach from Mintaro Hut to Dumpling Hut, I was starving. I ate 2 wraps with 2 slices of cheap Brie and a cup of instant Mee Goreng, and sipped a cup of hot tea.

Tim, Mike, Victoria, and Victoria arrived, and about half an hour after them Theo and Rewal. Sarah was worried about Laurent and Lola, saying ‘I hope they make it,’ and I replied I was confident they would soon be there. They left later, which meant they would be avoiding the worst part of the weather. And they did make it: they reached Dumpling Hut about 2 hours after us.