Date: August 26 - 27, 2024
Location: Lake Manapouri, Fiordland National Park, Southland, New Zealand
Total Trip Distance: Paddling - 7.65 mi / 12.31 km | Hiking - 10 mi / 16 km
Total Elevation Gain: 2,390 ft / 728 m
Trip Duration: 2 days
Team: Solo
Field Notes: A straightforward trip on Lake Manapouri, although I would be cautious to paddle it in anything other than light winds. The Monument makes a worthy side trip. There are excellent camp spots near Hope Arm Hut.
Rating: Flat water paddling. Hiking.
I had been dreaming about packrafting for over a decade. The first time I ever saw someone using one was Alastair Humphreys - one of my favorite adventurers. Al is someone who has inspired me to pursue a life outdoors. It also helps that he's a genuine dude and a complete badass (although he wouldn't admit that).
Earlier this winter my friend Chris and I decided to do the Kepler Track over a nice weather window. We were stoked on the idea to do the walk without much people on the trail - probably our only chance really! On the trip the idea of using a packraft to explore Fiordland was brought up. I told Chris I had been dreaming of getting one for way too long and never pulled the trigger.
Fast forward eight weeks and I got an email from Huw at Packrafting Queenstown letting me know that the rafts have officially arrived from the USA. A few days later I saw a break in the weather... calm winds and sunny skies for two days in Fiordland. I jumped in the van (I was already in my van) and drove south.
I arrived at Frazers Beach to clearing weather. The cloud was lifting off the ranges and the lake was as still as an attic. I blew up the raft, swatted a few sandflies and pushed off into the lake. There was a moment of absolute silence. I was loaded up with two days of food while sitting in an inflatable raft. I actually laughed out loud I was that stoked.
For the next hour and a half I paddled along the shores of Manapouri observing birds and the different variety of trees. It was so still. As I headed to the George Bay Portage the cloud was lifting off the snow covered Kepler Range. It felt like I was taking out my phone for a photo every two minutes.
I found the classic New Zealand orange triangle trail marker on a tree, deflated my boat and loaded everything in my pack. I think it took seven minutes and I wasn't trying to go fast. A short fifteen minute walk through a swamped trail led me to the beautiful and sandfly infested George Bay. I quickly inflated my boat (much faster than the previous seven minutes) and paddled West into Rawin' Bay.
Fiordland is not a real place. Towering snow capped peaks. Lush rain forest. Waterfalls that fall from the heavens. Spiritual bird calls. The lake was glass - which way was up or down? Around the corner stood the Monument at 466 meters tall. I pulled onto the shore and walked up the peak where I was treated to spectacular views of the Hunter and Kepler Mountains.
By late afternoon I had disembarked from my vessel and arrived at Hope Arm Hut. Not a soul in sight. Unfortunately the hut was trashed and smelled like shit. Smashed beer bottles outside the hut, dirt all over the floor, trash left in the hut, used cigarettes left by the fire place. Disappointing. I spent two hours cleaning, wiping, sweeping, and chopping firewood. By sunset I had a fire roaring while steam lifted from my wet clothing. I looked out the window and was summoned to the lake to observe the remaining days light.
I made my way to the edge of lake and exhaled deeply. The end of the day. Sunset complete. Last light. Twilight. The first star flickers above me through a wisp of cloud. Two birds call out into the unlit forest. Ripples of energy make their way across the water and dissipate at the pebbled shore beneath my feet. Deadwood is scattered across the beach. The shadows of the mountains creates a contrast which turns half of the lake jet black.
Suddenly I feel everything, hear everything, see everything, am everything. As soon as I am conscious of this it's gone. Like a candle you are enjoying so immensely for the light it provides until, without warning, the wick burns out. Truly, all things pass.
That night I had possibly the best sleep I've ever had in the mountains. I had parked myself next to the wood burning stove hearing only the crackling of dried wood and the distant bird call.
In the morning I was greeted to light rain falling on the metal roof. Without delay I packed my gear and followed the trail into the bush, enjoying this section of the trip. I decided to climb over Point 477 and gain one final view of the mountains before returning back to my van.
Along the way, my mind was brewing with so many new trip ideas and places to access. The packraft is an incredible adventure tool that opens the door to new ways to move in the mountains.
Happy days...
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