In a country of only 4 million people, 1M live in the CITY of Auckland and 1M live on the entire south ISLAND. No wonder the motorways were so empty. It was so nice to be somewhere with ample space to spread out and room to breathe.

Te Anau was our launching pad for the Milford Track and is a hub of all things hiking-related. It was already hard enough to pack for 3 months, nonetheless prepare for all the different activities and locations and weather. I was hardly equipped for a major wet/cold/long hike having spent 2 months walking in nothing more substantial than flip flops and wearing little more than a bathing suit and shorts. But after 20 minutes in one store I had everything I needed - from backpack to socks to eating utensils. Since we would be carrying everything, the goal was to take the bare minimum. I was shocked when people started cooking their meals. While Erin and I were going to feast on dehydrated meals that only required a fork and hot water, granola bars, and salami and cheese pitas for 4 days, others were obviously not. People were pulling out fresh produce, spices/condiments, fresh meat, pots and pans, cans of food, and desserts! Some Japanese guys even had beer, and a German guy had eggs for breakfast! I couldn't imagine my pack being any heavier than it already was with so little in it, so really couldn't imagine what it would be like to hike up a mountain with their packs on!

Given the amount of effort it takes to actually get to the Milford Track - a 30-minute bus ride from town to a 2-hour ferry across Lake Te Anau - we knew that we were going to be in the middle of nowhere and seeing some fantastic remote places. The Department of Conservation limits the number of hikers on the track each day and the hike was already 100% booked until the end of March! We would soon realize why it was so popular.

The weather forecast for our hike wasn't great. There are about 250 days of rain in Milford so there was a good chance that we wouldn't see the sun and would be wet for the next 4 days. We might even have to get in a helicopter to make it over some avalanche debris on the path! All the makings of a once-in-a-lifetime experience...

Our 4 days were pretty well planned out for us by the DOC. The 40 of us would all start at the same place each day and end at the same place each night, and there was only one path going in one direction. How we covered the ~15km per day on the varying terrain was up to us.

It would be impossible to describe the scenery we saw along the way. I've run out of adjectives already and the photos don't do it justice either. But, I now know why the hike is one of the greatest hikes in the world. To be in the middle of nowhere surrounded by vast mountains, waterfalls, rushing rivers and green forests was awesome. 34 miles is a long way. While Erin and I entertained ourselves with trivia questions and singalongs, most of the time we just ambled along, looking around, and thinking about everything and nothing.

The first thing I noticed on the hike was the water. There were waterfalls were coming down all around us - the mountain was just oozing with water. And, it was so clear that we could see every rock in the river. After a brief walk/tiptoe in the river, I knew the water was coming straight from the snow on the mountaintops... cold cold cold!

It was also hard not to also notice the signs that said, "Avalanche Danger - Do Not Stop." Enough to put a spring in my step, always wondering just how far away the "You've Reached the Safe Zone" signs were... The rocks, trees, snow and water crashing down a mountainside takes out everything in its path and the immense damage/debris becomes another "mountain" in itself! An avalanche had torn through part of the switchback to the top of the mountain and I found myself climbing with hands and feet up a wall of mud and tree roots. Welcome to the "Alternate Route!"

We settled into a routine fairly quickly. Everyone would get up, have breakfast, pack and make their way in the mornings, some at 530am, some at 9am. Somewhere in between 1pm and 4pm everyone would have arrived at the next hut. It always felt later in the day than it was. Days started pretty early and involved so much activity/effort that we were exhausted by 7pm. Erin and I ended up hanging out with the same 4 guys each night, and card games were the highlight of our evenings. I think I'd forgotten how fun playing cards can be - our nightly tournaments of Hearts and Shithead were pretty competitive and rambunctious but such a laugh. And we were always the last ones left in the common room every night at 10pm when the lights literally went out. Time flies when you're having fun!

It would be a combination of the scenery and the weather made my experience on the Milford Track so memorable. The third day of the tramp was the one that I was dreading. I'm not a big fan of "uphill," and this was the day that we'd be hiking up 1000M to the top of the pass and then come down 2000M on the other side. I woke up to a gray drizzly day - we were definitely going to experience the wet that we'd heard so much about. The rain came down harder as we ascended and by the time we got to the top all hell had broken loose. The torrential rain became torrential hail and there were 50 knots of wind to go with it. I was literally blown off my feet (and onto my butt) several times and was soaked through and through. The mountain came alive with the rain - water flowed from every crevice and waterfalls become knee-high gushing rivers that we had to cross. It's hard to describe how much water there was. As scary as it was at times getting down the mountain, as much as I hated going uphill, and uncomfortable as we were being soaking wet and cold, that was one of the best days I had.

Sticking my feet back into cold wet boots that morning for another 6 hours of hiking was unpleasant to say the least, but having gotten through the toughest part of the tramp, I knew today would be a walk in the woods. The rain had ceased and Middle Earth had come to life! Enchanted forests all around! We finally reached our last mile marker and the track literally ended as it began - in the water. Welcome to the Milford Sound. The 10-ft layer of fresh water that sits on top of the Tasman Sea's saltwater is testament to how much water comes pouring out of the sky and from the mountaintops.

Other than a sign that signified that we'd walked 34 miles and a spectacular view that was such a great reward for how far we'd come, there was nothing else but us and the sandflies at Sandfly Point. Nothing to do but sit back, and soak up the sun and views while we waited for our boat back to civilization. Taking off my boots and peeling off my socks have never felt so good. I was so happy to be finished with the track, but it was sad to say goodbye to our new friends. Our hike had turned into an impromptu mini-KOA!

Queenstown was somewhat of a culture shock after sleepy towns and our remote hike, but the bustle of people, shops, bars and restaurants was just what we were looking for. The warm sunny weather that made Queenstown even more picture-postcard. Imagine Aspen on Lake Tahoe.

I turned 32 in Queenstown. Now that's a place I never imagined I'd be celebrating a birthday, but how great is that?! In a city that's all about adrenalin and activities, there was slight pressure to commemorate my birthday with a "big" event. I went to watch the bungy jumpers at a bridge over the Kawarau River that was the famous birthplace of bungy jumping. I wish I could have just "done it," but imagining myself standing at the edge of the platform, looking down 125 feet to the river below and realizing that I'd have to JUMP was enough to convince me otherwise. Forget the part about being strapped to a rope by your ankles and hurtling yourself headfirst towards a rushing river!

So, I decided I wanted to fly instead of "fall" and went hang-gliding instead. My pilot was Matt, an Aussie who looked about 16 years old but promised me that he had 6 years of experience. I got all geared up in a flight suit a la Top Gun with lots of padding and a helmet and signed my life away. The glider didn't look like more than a big kite. That was it?! After a short lesson on coordinating our "step step run run run" and where to hold onto the pilot, I was step-step-run-run-running down the side of the mountain... Suddenly my feet left the ground and I was flying like a bird! The wind gushed in our faces as we swooped and soared down the mountain. The 12 minutes I was up there felt like forever, but all too soon it was time to land. All of a sudden the ground was rising to meet us and the reason for all the padding became all too clear. I'd been flying like a bird, but it was time to land... like a plane. And I was its belly! What a rush. They took pictures of us during the flight and I never stopped laughing.

For the slightly-obsessed Lord of the Rings fan, being able to see the scenery from the movies in real life was incredible. The best part was that all of it was even more spectacular in real life than it was in the movies. That doesn't happen too often does it? The South Island WAS Middle Earth with truly enchanted forests of green moss, sun streaming in, and willowy trees and stark snow-covered mountains and blue lakes and rivers. Being the slightly-obsessed LOTR fans that we were, Erin and I just couldn't resist going on the "Safari of the Rings" 4WD tour while we were in Queenstown. As hokey as it seemed, it was pretty cool to be seeing the spot where Isengard stood and stand where Sam cooked a rabbit for Frodo and where the battle with the elephant-things happened. It's awesome that a world that was DREAMED UP by Tolkien could actually be real.

My 6 weeks in NZ was suddenly over and it was now time to go and see the sights of Australia. My flight out of town might as well have been a sightseeing tour for all the spectacular views --- a great grand finale.

Tales of kangaroos and Nemos to come....
Judy

P.S. I can now see why Kiwis (and Aussies) are obsessed with rugby. I got caught up in watching the games and rooting for the All Blacks - there was no way that you couldn't if you were around Kiwis during the World Cup. While I didn't really understand what was going on, it was just fun to soak in the excitement of everyone around us in the pubs. I'd eventually figure out the basics of the game - made watching it more interesting, though I still cringed at the violent tackles and crashing bodies. By the end of the World Cup, I even had a favorite player (Carlos Spencer #10) and knew a few parts of the Haka. It's amazing to see the intense patriotism that goes with rugby - it's one singular sport that the entire country embraces.