One of my biggest motivations in learning to paraglide was to be able to combine hiking with flying. I’ve always loved walking up mountains, and the allure of walking to the top and flying back to the bottom was huge. Once you’ve reached the top of the mountain, getting back down is never nearly as much fun.
It’s been pretty quiet here on the blog front over the previous weeks; my Spring, Summer and Autumn consisted of me either learning to paraglide, going on backcountry mountain bike rides, or running NZByBike.com. I’m stoked to finally get a post up, and couldn’t be happier to give my good mate Bruce a chance to plug some out-of-the-way New Zealand destinations you’ve probably never heard about.
Planning a trip to New Zealand? Don’t forget to check out my Planit NZ travel guide for help in putting together the perfect itinerary.
I often wonder how an Iowa born and bred boy like myself could develop such a passion for the mountains. Needless to say, snow-capped peaks aren’t a common sight anywhere in the midwest, and this is certainly true in my homestate of Iowa.Yet after two years of living in a mountain-town on New Zealand’s South Island, I’ve developed a love for the hills – a passion for exploring, climbing and simply getting amongst the New Zealand backcountry. With literally dozens of tramping tracks and mountain bike trails in the very close vicinity to my home, it’s an easy addiction to fulfill.
Last weekend, I was in definite need of some of this relaxation and decided to spend a day walking and running in the mountains. I was in need of the mountain cocktail – crisp and fresh air, sun, sweeping views and a bit of exercise. I found it on the Routeburn Track.
The Routeburn Track is a “Great Walk” – one of nine multi-day tramping trails scattered about New Zealand. It’s arguably one of the most popular Great Walks in New Zealand and offers a fantastic combination of native bush, towering mountains and alpine lakes. At 32 kms, most trampers choose to tackle this over two or three nights. Given its close proximity to Queenstown, it’s also an excellent choice for a day walk. From Queenstown to the trail head, it’s about a 90 minute drive – while you could get there slightly quicker, the drive warrants no short of a dozen photo-stops. Leaving Queenstown, you’ll follow Lake Wakatipu all the way to Glenorchy, some 45 minutes away. With views like this – it’s not a trip you’ll want to rush.
After arriving at the Routeburn Shelter and the trail head, you have a 1.5 – 2.5 hour walk to the first hut on the Routeburn Track – the Routeburn Flats Hut. The majority of this walk is through the bush – in the winter, this is almost entirely in the shade and the result is ubiquitous permafrost and incredibly fresh and crisp air.
On the way to the Routeburn Flats Hut, the track meanders its way through native beech forest. It gradually undulates with few hills for about 7kms.
It was incredibly still and peacefully quiet with fresh snow on and around the track. Perfect snow-flakes.
As you near the Routeburn Flats Hut, you sense getting closer and closer to the sunlight with more snow-capped peaks towering above you.
The Routeburn Flats Hut is the first hut you’ll come to. Huts in the New Zealand backcountry run from incredibly well-kept, clean and comfortable to various stages of disrepair. With a bunkroom, a kitchen and a sitting room with a wood-burner, the Flats Hut is a pretty cozy spot to spend the night. And the view isn’t bad either…
A view down the Routeburn Valley…
Past the Routeburn Flats Hut, the trail gets significantly steeper for about an hour as you climb through the bush and up towards the Routeburn Falls Hut. Midway along, you reach a point where a slip (i.e rock/land slide) has cleared the trees resulting in an epic view of the Humbolts Mountain Range.
The Routeburn Falls Hut sits about 20 minutes further on. It’s a large hut that is an incredibly busy place in the summer months. In the winter, it’s another peaceful place to reflect on the views.
Over the winter months, it’s dangerous to go too far past the Routeburn Falls Hut. From here, it’s an alpine pass over the Harris Saddle and is known for frequent avalanches. I opted to go 15 or so minutes past the hut to the Routeburn Falls.
From here, another fantastic view back towards the Humbolts and down the Routeburn Valley…
This day walk on the Routeburn Track took me just about four hours – yet this included me jogging about 50% of the time. If you were only walking, you’d want to allow 7 – 8 hours. Have you found the perfect mountain cocktail in New Zealand? Let us know in the comments section below. Interested in more walking or hiking opportunities in New Zealand? Check out these other NZ hiking experiences:
It’s now been a full week since my first experience paragliding in Queentown, New Zealand, and I am still riding a high.
Paragliding. In layman’s terms, paragliding is running off the face of a mountain with a parachute strapped to your back.
While I wasn’t hugely familiar with the sport before moving to Queenstown almost two years ago, it’s something I’ve grown accustomed to seeing each day. I’ve got to believe that you couldn’t find a better spot to paraglide than here on New Zealand’s South Island. Leaving directly from town is the Skyline Gondola which places you at the top of Bob’s Peak – where, if you’re inclined, you can strap on your glider, go for a flight and get right back on the gondola. Fly. Repeat. Etc.
A common feature of the Queenstown skyline is paragliders flying back to terra firma. Whilst you can fly tandem from the gondola, I opted for a more alpine feeling flight from just outside of town at the Coronet Peak ski field – where, in winter, you get about double the elevation for essentially the same price.
After riding the chairlift to near the summit of Coronet Peak, we began a short hike to what I would find to be our takeoff point – also known as, a reasonably steep hill down the side of the mountain. I was hugely excited at what was come, and whilst I was slightly nervous I felt at ease with my pilot Angus.
After that, the takeoff was surprisingly simple. I was attached to Angus who stood behind me. After a quick countdown – three, two, one – I was asked to power walk down the hill. As I walked forward the glider inflated and …
It’s impossible to describe the sensation. Cruising high above the snow and tussock covered ridge was absolutely blissful. It’s cliche perhaps, yet I could quite literally not wipe the smile off my face. I somewhat expected the flight experience to be slightly uncomfortable – imagining hanging from my harness as you would while rock climbing. In fact, it was the opposite – lounged out, legs stretched in a bucket seat that could just have easily been a recliner in your living room – albeit, one with million dollar views.
We followed a ridgeline which would lead the way to our landing area. During warmer periods, it’s possible to catch thermals – warm winds that result in you gaining altitude, extending the flight as opposed to flying back towards solid ground. We didn’t catch these in the high of winter, and instead continued cruising to high above the landing area.
And from behind…
I was beginning to think I’d get away from the flight without the stomach-dropping twist maneuvers you often see the pilots doing – seemingly defying the laws of physics by turning sharply, swinging up and down and back up over your glider. I didn’t. And I’m glad – this put the thrill in the experience and was an excellent way to finish.
See that in my mouth? It’s my stomach.
Brilliant.
Our landing was the worst part of the flight; the worst, only because I didn’t want the flight to be over. We came in slow over the paddock (aka field, aka the landing area), Angus hammered on the breaks and before I knew it I was back on solid ground – and still smiling.
A tandem flight with Coronet Peak Tandems is $205. This includes digital photos and transportation to and from Queenstown. You’d want to allow about two hours for the entire experience, with the flight itself lasting about 20 minutes. In the winter, you’ll fly from the top of the Coronet Peak chairlift – the views back behind Coronet are stunning – snow-covered mountains as far as you can see. During winter, you’ll have double the elevation to work with when compared to flying from the Skyline Gondola – more elevation, more time in the air.
This paragliding flight stands out as the highlight of my adventure experiences in New Zealand; it was quite simply fantastic. After my flight last week, I’m determined to learn how to fly. Be warned: this is the most dangerous aspect of paragliding – its hugely addictive rush. Yet go on, I’m convinced you’ll love it too.
Angus and Gitti at Coronet Peak Tandems provided me with a complimentary flight, but these opinions are – as always – my own. To book, call them on NZ Freephone 0800 46 7325 or visit Tandemparaglding.com. Until then, like them on Facebook.
When I made the decision some months ago to stick around New Zealand for longer than I anticipated, I did so for a variety of reasons- a fantastic circle of friends, a good job opportunity, an unbeatable lifestyle and a New Zealand bucket list that seemed to stretch from Cape Reinga to Bluff. Perhaps unsurprisingly, this bucket list only continues to grow the longer I remain based in beautiful Queenstown.
Over the past year or so I’ve developed a newfound love of the outdoors – it’s easy to do whilst backpacking in New Zealand. Especially here in Queenstown where you’re surrounded by mountains, lakes, multi-day treks, mountain bike trails, rivers and about every outdoor activity you can dream up (and more).
High up on my New Zealand bucket list was climbing Mitre Peak. This iconic mountain is found deep in Fiordland National Park on the majestic Milford Sound. The tens of thousands of visitors that arrive in Milford Sound each year know it well, and chances are if you come backpacking in NZ you’ll take in its awe inspiring presence from the comfort of a cruise on Milford Sound (odds favor it to be raining, as Milford Sound gets an astonishing 7 metres of rainfall each year).
Mitre Peak’s summit sits over a vertical mile directly above Milford Sound – 1,692 metres (5,551 feet) above sea level. It’s a hugely demanding climb and one that should not be taken lightly. The track through the thick Fiordland bush is unmarked, the route above the bushline is hugely exposed and it’s a demanding mission regardless of how you tackle it.
This isn’t a mountain you’ll decide on a whim to climb; tackling Mitre Peak will take weeks of planning, a clear window of weather, a support crew to bring you to the other side of the sound and a significant level of physical fitness. You’ll also have to be comfortable with significant exposure down the sound thousands of feet below you. As such I was lucky to head up with an experienced crew with plenty of backcountry experience and a solid knowledge of roped climbing.
A number of aspects make climbing Mitre Peak extremely challenging –
After a solid three hours of bashing through thick Fiordland bush we were greeted with the somewhat ominous view of what we would be climbing 24 hours later.
We arrived at camp after a solid 6 hours of bashing through the bush – absolutely shattered yet quickly rejuvenated by the sunset views. This is about spot 900 metres on the map and there is one more spot to camp about 100 metres further up; we opted to stay here due to fatigue and the thought that this would be more protected from the wind.
Here you can see the ridge we will follow and Mitre Peak’s summit in the distance.
The climb continues here up the steep ridge. This is where the exposure begins; whilst this slope was essentially vertical, there were solid foot and hand holds in the grass. Vertigo begins to set in as you peer down to your right and see the sound and the boats so far below.
Epic views from here and this would be a good spot to turn around if you weren’t keen for serious climbing.
Climbing up the ridge – huge view back towards Milford Sound Village and airstrip.
The view opens up to the snowcapped mountains beyond Milford Village.
Feeling quite accomplished here, yet very aware the most exposed climbing is yet to come.
The following three pictures show the knife-edge ridge you’ll have to scramble across. This is ‘easy’ scrambling with 1 – 1.5 metres worth of rocks to scramble over, yet there are definite ‘airy’ drops on either side: 1,000+ metres to either Milford Sound or Sinbad Gully.
Looking back at the ridge…
Scrambling Across the Ridge – Big Drops on Either Side.
A taste of the exposure.
A telling view of the ridgeline we followed up Mitre Peak.
After the hairline ridge (photos above), it was into the harnesses and onto the ropes. It’s one thing to scramble across a ridgeline, yet downclimbing with significant exposure followed by a big climb back up is significantly more wearing – both mentally and physically. If nothing else, the rope provides a false sense of security that results in more confident climbing – crucial under these circumstances.
Can you spot three of us?
Here you can see the ridge we crossed, beyond that the bush we bashed through and beyond that Milford Village. The adrenaline was flowing here as we were well and truly exposed.
This was the most challenging section of the climb. The exposure was compounded by rotten rock and wet sections that had been in the shade all day. Big feeling of achievement after we passed through this.
Looking back on Milford Village
Toshi pops up over the edge as we near the summit.
As it turns out, we got to within about 45 minutes of the summit but were forced to turn back as we were running short on both time and water – two things you don’t want to risk in an alpine environment. Whilst we all would have liked to sit at Mitre Peak’s proper summit, we were well happy to have made it where we did.
The grueling downclimb begins. We ultimately spent an extra night on the mountain as we ran out of daylight and had difficulty finding the correct track down through the bush. If you’re climbing Mitre Peak, be sure to make a solid mental note of where you come out of the bush and into the clearings.
Thirsty, hungry and exhausted – delighted to be back to civilization and ready for a pint.
We knew Mitre Peak would be big; as it turns out, the mission ended up being significantly bigger than any of us expected. We were short on food and water and relied on puri-tabs and puddle water to last us for our remaining 12 hours in the bush.
Would you be interested in climbing Mitre Peak? Let us know in the comments section below. Considering it and have questions? Email me at matt at backpackingmatt dot com and I’ll do my best to answer any questions you might have.
Backpacking Matt 
