Routeburn, The Flats

On the bus from Queenstown I met a young Brit, fit as they come and full of energy, bright eyes. Good looking, tanned, the Antipodean life treating him well in New Zealand. He was working for a year in the emergency department at a hospital on the North Island, 2-3 years out of medical school in the UK. He paused when I asked him about his work. Solemnly he recalled the large number of car crash accidents, in a remote community where locals drove old cars without wearing seat belts. He didn’t have much leave from work, so had booked to tramp all three of the Fiordland Great Walk trails in 5 days. 2 days per trail, on trails that themselves were recommended to be walked in 3-4 days each. Perhaps after the horrors of the ED he wanted to absorb as much nature and wild beauty as possible in the short time he had. A solo walker like me, but on Fiordland trails that were a United Nations of walkers from around the globe, all seeking some experience of the wild, the beauty of Nature. Some there, for sure, for the adventure or fitness challenge or selfie for the socials. I saw that young Brit again, walking the Routeburn the opposite way to me with at least two days walking in front of him which he would do in one day. He would probably miss the Routeburn Flats, but hopefully absorbed enough beauty to carry him through the grim months ahead in the ED.

I am an older tramper now on the trails. I say tramper as I’m hiking in New Zealand. Hiking , rambling, walking in other places. There are some older solo hikers, knees supported with bandages, and some parents with teenage child, a last attempt to share an experience, connection, before the child became an adult, independent and possibly distant, in place and perhaps emotionally. Most of the trampers were young, fit, and yes surprisingly blonde, out to walk NZ from Germany, the Netherlands, Holland. Many were university students on the holiday of a life time, taking a year out and travelling through Asia, Australia, New Zealand the Pacific. 

I have always walked, not extreme or adventure hiking, but walking, in remote locations yes, but really to be in Nature, to be away from the city, to slow myself to the rhythm of walking and escape for a while the race of modern life, multiple emails, social media, constant noise. In Northern Queensland, Tasmania, the Victorian alps and coast, and further afield in Japan, Costa Rica, Italy and Papua New Guinea. I walked to be quiet, to get perspective, to experience the potential of the trails. Tails leading to somewhere new, somewhere where effort was needed, body exerted. 

Arriving at Routeburn Flats, I think it is, probably, the most beautiful place I have ever been. And that is saying a lot after the Dolomites, the Japan Alps, bits of Switzerland. No phone reception here, pictures will help tell the story, but I also had to write this down. Brings to mind Annie Dillard , Aldo Leopold, Muir, Thoreau. Routeburn river meandering, rolling across stones, water so crisp, clear and cold, standing waist deep, healing for my weary hips and legs.  Rolling out to join the Dart River, Te Awa Whaktatipu, and then to Lake Wakatipu, and on its shores Glenorchy and then Queenstown. Ducks slowly but deliberately feeding on insects, reeds in the river shallows, taking their time, honking away, no predators here. Ducks, that is, the Blue Duck /Whio, Paradise Duck/Putakitaki, one of each.

A view across the Flats of waving grasses and yellow daisies, to massive snowcapped peaks, sun glistening off the rocks and bright against the deep white snow. To my right the snowcapped peaks of the Humboldt Mountains (with Summus, 2293m and Momus, 2148m) and to my left the Serpentine Range, with Mt Erebus (1978m), and Mt Xenicus (1912m) , with a waterfall splitting the green banks of trees and rocky cliffs on the lower reaches of the range. Some of these mountains named after Greek gods. Must research who named them. Summus , god of nocturnal heaven, Momus, God of mockery & complaint, Erebus , god of darkness and shadow. Makes sense. Xenicus , not a Greek god but rather after the New Zealand rock wren or pīwauwau ("little complaining bird") in Māori. The view of the mountains changing all the time as the clouds shift. A view down the valley as the river runs to the Bridal Veil Falls which I passed on the way up. The walk up from the shelter and beginning of the Routeburn track, along the river, with the valley slowly revealing itself, what it ultimately revealed I did not expect. 

Mark (written December 2022, posted May 2026)