If you’re tired of hearing about New Zealand, stop reading now. This story came to mind again recently because it’s one of my favorites from my time in the southern hemisphere back in 2011-2012.
As a refresher, my schedule for working with North Island brown kiwi in the Hauraki Gulf consisted of 2 weeks spent playing and working, followed by 2 weeks of travel time. For the first and only time in my life, I owned a car; my Nissan Cefiro station wagon’s name was Shadowfax for the simple reason that I hoped it would lead me to Gandalf. (Filming for “The Hobbit” happened while I was down there, and I even went to a casting call outside of Wellington, but that’s a story in itself.)
Although the more time I spend in the US, the more I want to get out, there’s one way in which I’m extremely American. I absolutely love the freedom to explore that comes with owning a set of 4 wheels. During my time off I drove all around both the North and South Islands, and while the gas bills piled up due to gas costing around 2.10NZD/liter (6.52USD/gallon), I wouldn’t trade my adventures for anything.
With a full month of travel before my final stint of kiwi work, I loaded my trusty steed onto the Interislander ferry to cross Cook Strait. Throughout my travels I relied on the above books, which functioned as both blessings and curses. Wanting to go everywhere in the country and hoping to see as many filming locations as possible made for quite the excursions. (Even now I can scan through those books and re-live my adventures. Some books can be worth leaving behind; those weren’t.)
About 2/3 of the way through my month, I was finishing up the Greenstone Caples tramp in the Lake Wakatipu/Greenstone Conservation Area just outside Fiordland National Park. Having just spent 3 nights on the trail and knowing I was running short on time to explore the Wanaka and Queenstown areas, I decided to skip making the 39km drive down unsealed roads to visit the Mavora Lakes Park. Just outside the park lies the area where Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli came upon the burning pile of orc carcasses. The shores of North Mavora Lake are the home of The Breaking of the Fellowship. Although The Breaking is likely one of my top 3 scenes for story line, scenery, and music; I decided I had more convenient places to visit.
As I drove out of Te Anau and toward Queenstown on highway 94, I again told myself, “Nope. You don’t have time for that side trip. Put it on the “Next Time” list.” My decision had been made. However as Shadowfax and I approached the turn-off toward Mavora, he slowed down and made a left turn. I couldn’t stop him, so there really wasn’t anything for me to do about it other than continue driving down 39km of unsealed road. At least it wasn’t a lonely road.
I stopped for a moment at the invisible pile of carcasses before venturing inside the park. Without Shadowfax’s insistence on turning, I would have missed out on the beauty of the Mavora area. The Mavora Lakes are 2 long, skinny lakes that run N-S between 2 ridges and are connected by the Mararoa River. From the get-go I was struck by the rather simple beauty of the area.
Upon exploring a little around the southern lake, I discovered that I could either pay the $5 campsite fee or use my backcountry hut pass to sleep for free at Careys Hut a mere 10km down the lakeshore. Since I was unsure of whether I’d be squeezing another tramp into my time off or not, I found myself irrationally parking the car and hurriedly stuffing gear back into the backpack I’d just unpacked a few hours earlier. Besides, I hadn’t consumed a beer in a hut yet, and I just happened to have one ready to go. I’d already climbed over the McKellar Saddle and back to my car after starting the morning at Upper Caples Hut. What was another 10 kilometers of travel?
I hit the trail right around 20:00, knowing that my daylight was quickly fading. With my headlamp conveniently stowed, I figured I’d enjoy a soul cleansing dusky hike. The trail hugged the lakeshore and flirted with the woods’ edge for the first few kilometers before gaining a little elevation and meandering through fields above the lake. As I walked along beneath the darkening sky, the stars slowly twinkled to life above me. Every now and then I just stopped to stare up at the sky and the silhouetted mountains. The only sound around was created by waves lapping lightly upon the lakeshore. I was in love.
Although I was in love, I was also growing tired. 21:30 rolled around. Probably a half an hour or so to go, I thought to myself. 21:45… 22:00…22:15. I know I’ve hiked a fair bit today, but I can’t be moving that slowly, can I? 22:20. What if I hike past the hut without realizing it? My headlamp wasn’t really all that powerful, and I had no tent to pitch if I ended up missing the hut. In retrospect I probably could have chanced just unrolling the sleeping bag outside, but I wasn’t too sure of what the weather would bring. My options were to either keep hiking and hope I’d see the hut soon, or turn back to sleep in the car.
22:25. Okay, give it up and turn around so you can get some sleep. I hated to make the decision, but I couldn’t see any sign of the hut. At that time I brilliantly thought to pull out my GPS and turn it on to measure the walk back to the parking area. As I started the long haul back to Shadowfax, I laughed at myself. Only I would be ridiculous enough to take on a second hike, walk for a couple hours, and then decide to walk those kilometers back in the darkness of night.
Despite the fact that I was mentally and physically tired, I paused to soak up my surroundings multiple times on the return trip. The utter absence of civilization was perfectly soothing. While on that hike I realized that I could easily spend a week out at the Mavora Lakes and still have no strong desire to return to town. For whatever mysterious kiwi reasons, the park had seized my soul.
As far as I recall, I stumbled up to Shadowfax around 00:40 and was in my sleeping bag before 01:00. Before drifting off to sleep, I checked my GPS to see that I had hiked ~9.5 kilometers; if I had carried on for another 10 minutes, I would have reached Careys Hut! Go figure. Although a beer in a hut would have been nice, I know my walk turned out just the way it was meant to be.
Wouldn’t my luck have it that the first substantial frost of the year fell that night? I didn’t sleep particularly well, but I couldn’t help but wake up with a smile on my face, for I had slept within one-tenth of a mile from where The Fellowship broke.
As much as I wanted to stay a week, I only afforded myself the time to scamper in the same woods through which orcs chased the Fellowship and then enjoy the scenery around Sam’s swimming hole. As always when visiting filming locations, I played the proper songs from the soundtrack to create the full experience. The shore of North Mavora nearly gave me tears. (Also, for the record, poor Sean Astin had to swim in a chilly lake, dry off briefly, and then repeat the act for multiple takes. What a trooper.)
Shadowfax probably decided it was time to move on by late morning. Although my time at Mavora Lakes Park had been brief, it managed to give me a prized memory. Maybe one day my soul will wander back to that place.