AOTEAROA, Land of the Long White Cloud: Rees-Dart Track

There comes a point in many people's lives where they say:

And you may find yourself living in a shotgun shack
And you may find yourself in another part of the world
And you may find yourself behind the wheel of a large automobile
And you may find yourself in a beautiful house, with a beautiful
wife
And you may ask yourself-Well...How did I get here?

 The Talking Heads really got it. Fresh off the plane in the glory of New Zealand, Captain and I were asking ourselves, Well, How did I get here? New Zealand has been Numero Uno on my bucket list - it sounds so sublime; snow-capped mountains, wild rivers, vast oceans, strange creatures, dark forests, and hobbits.

Huffing and puffing up the Rees-Dart Track in the heart of Mt. Aspiring National Park, this question kept coming up. What did I do in my previous lives to deserve such beauty to behold? I still don't have the answer to that question, but what I do know is that New Zealand is worth every penny of that expensive plane ticket.

We had landed in Queenstown with absolutely no plan, and decided on the Rees-Dart Track** because it was the closest hike and didn't require booking ahead of time, unlike the Great Walks. So we hitched to the start of the track (Par 3, 3!).* It was February, my birthday, and summertime in NZ. The bees were buzzing, the flowers blooming, and everywhere was a luscious green.

The map.

We started on the Rees River side, which was private land for the first four hours. We walked through beautiful pasturage that was bordered with mountains and beech forest; cows, waterfalls, and bog ruled. Our shoes were soaked and caked with wet mud. Then we hit the beech forest.  The trees' leaves were tiny, dark green, and manifold, the bark and ground carpeted in moss and ferns. The air was so clear in that forest. We hiked until dark, then we tented in a tiny meadow that was reminiscent of Rohan.

The Captain, in Rohan

Cows don't know they're in paradise.

The Rees River.

We had not packed well because we were rushed and it had been awhile (at least 9 months) since we last went backpacking. We didn't forget anything, but by the early morning of day two I was wishing we had. My right knee collapsed, and I was like a turtle on his back, trying to get up again. Tears ensued, and Captain made me give him a bunch of stuff. Needless to say, the heavier load slowed Captain down tremendously, which always makes me happy. :P He was also carrying superfluous items like an electric razor, so you can imagine how heavy it was. Always go through your pack thoroughly before setting out on a hike!

We passed the first hut and started climbing up to the Saddle. The Rees River became a creek, then stream, then disappeared into its source. All around us the mountains loomed, but it was a bright and sunny day, so even though the climbing was hard work, I did it with a light heart. This area is one of the sources of the highly prized Greenstone, known in Maori as pounamu. Heading into the saddle, we climbed with our hands digging into the loose soil and weak alpine vegetation. We made it to the 1,471 meter high saddle, and sat for a bit of rest.

The tussock grass on the way up the Rees Saddle.

Source of pounamu.

If you've ever read His Dark Materials, near the end of the book there's a scene where Lyra is next to Will by a stream. That scene I wanted to reinact, so Captain and I traded Hershey's Kisses. Then I stood up and was astonished when I realized I was rendered immobile. Captain was on his knees and had grabbed my legs. Looking down at him confused, he asked me to marry him. We both agreed later that pure exhaustion is what inspired him. Well, I said yes, and we took an egregious amount of photos to commemorate the moment. You couldn't ask for better scenery.

One view from the Rees Saddle.

Both of us in shock.

 Later we hiked down the Rees Saddle and it took another few hours through gorgeous mountains to reach the Dart Hut. Wildflowers bloomed and Snowy Creek was in narrow gorge. We walked along the top until the bridge and then climbed down the sharp descent to the Dart Hut. We set up tent and planned to do a day hike the next day to the Dart Glacier.

Snowy Creek

Some of the wildflowers and Snowy Creek.

Majestic!

Oh my gawd, I loooooove mountains!

Day 3: Thankful for not carrying our packs, we hiked a couple hours up to the Cascade Saddle and got tremendous views of the Dart Glacier. I haven't seen a glacier since Alaska, and it's easy to forget how impressive they are - the deep blue and bright white, the sheer cliffs scoured by ice, and the silty river that escaped the glacier from an ominous ice cave. An excellent day hike.

The Dart Glacier viewed from Cascade Saddle.

The next day we grudgingly put our packs on again and headed down the Dart River. The hike through beech forest was delightful and it smelled like Christmas. Then the beech forest gave way to the Cattle Flats, where we were once again in Rohan. Hiking through the grass, we passed Daley's Flat Hut and continued on. We got back into the forest again and climbed up Sandy Bluff, which had precipitous drops off the side. We camped after a difficult episode of forging a new trail, since the old one had washed out.

Beech forest and epic boulders.

I can climb a beech!

Welcome to Middle Earth. The Cattle Flats.

The only time Captain used his binoculars the whole six months we were in NZ.

Wildflowers!

Setting up camp that night was difficult, the sandflies were horrific. They are tiny, and bite your exposed flesh and it becomes super itchy so you scratch until you bleed. A couple dozen managed to get in the tent even though we were careful, so it took a good half-hour to kill all the bastards. When we packed up the tent the next day, hundreds got in the tent, and didn't escape until we unfolded it again later that night. Thankfully, that was the worst sandfly experience we had in New Zealand. Bring bug repellant, you have been warned.

A rock slide created a dam, and hence, this lake.

Steep cliffs mean excellent camera angles.

You can see the rock slip, it occurred in the 90's.

The next day, and by far the funnest. Most hikers at this point exit via Chinaman's Bluff where they head to the Paradise carpark, where they have either a car at both entrances of the Rees-Dart track or they've paid for someone to pick them up at a fairly hefty cost. Kirk and I walked up to the Dart River, and unpacked our packrafts.

The Dart River, Captain, and our packrafts.

Strapping in the packs.

My trusty boat and Charley.

Packrafts are inflatable, one-man rafts, suitable for lower classes of rapids. We floated down the Dart, through the countryside, right through Isengard and Lothlorien and paddled across Lake Wakatipu to Glenorchy. The back of my hands, the only place uncovered, got severely sunburned, so don't forget your sunscreen!

Captain is finally an actual captain!

They're taking the hobbits to Isengard! Quick, Captain, we must rescue them.

Getting into the flatlands.

*Captain and I came up with a game for hitchhiking. Just like golf, every turn off a road is a par, so if the route you need to go has 2 turns, it is Par 2. Four turns is Par 4. So, to get from Queenstown to the start of the track, we had the first hitch, then at Glenorchy there was a turn-off and presumably another hitch, then the dirt road turn-off to the trailhead. So three hitches probably necessary, hence Par 3. Making it at or under par meant Kirk owed me chocolate. Boy, did I get rotund from it! :)

**A note on English: In British English, a hike is a walk, backpacking is tramping, a backpacker is a tramper, and the trail is the track. All trails, hikes, and tracks can also be referred to as a walk. So if I vary, please excuse me.