The Hollyford Track: Love at First Hike

No wonder Māori, particularly the Ngāi Tahu tribes worship Te Wahipounamu as the home of Atua, the gods and spirits of Māori. This makes complete sense to me. What happened here is god-like shock and awe.

Sidebar: Te Wahipounamu, Southwest New Zealand, is shaped by the artistic hand of glaciation. Mountains, fiords, rivers, ancient forests and coastline cover 2.6 million hectares or half the size of Denmark. Stretching 450km along the South Island’s southwestern coast, it was declared a UNESCO world heritage site in 1990. ?

Pristine, diverse and stunning, the Hollyford Wilderness lies within Te Wahipounamu. My mind struggles to find adjectives to paint the beauty of what I saw and experienced: hiking the Hollyford Track is to come face-to-face with one of the last, untouched wilderness areas on Earth.

Human ingenuity has reshaped the world so dramatically that places like this have become outliers. Exceptions. Rare. And irreplaceable. The hike begins with fresh, clean, unpolluted air, lush forest, curious birdlife and gently flowing streams. This is river deep, mountain high country.

The Hollyford showcases diverse vegetation and plants on the mountain tops. In the warmer forests below, majestic podocarps such as rimu, kahikatea, miro, matai and tōtara reign.?

In New Zealand, most podocarps are purely male or female trees. It’s an evolutionary advantage: self-pollination and inbreeding is impossible, increasing genetic diversity and protection against harmful mutations.

The wilderness is home to the largest and most significant population of forest birds in the country. Kāka, kea, mohua, kererū, riroriro, titipounamu, korimako, tauhou,and karearea are found here.

Te Wahipounamu is also one of the most seismically active regions on the planet. Over millennia, Mother Nature has released unimaginable energy to shape the landscape. Within the last 5 million years two tectonic plates smashed together, forming the Southern Alps. They are very young in geological terms and remain dynamic. No wonder Māori, particularly many Ngāi Tahu hapū worship Te Wahipounamu – “the place of greenstone” - as the home of Atua, the gods and spirits of Maōri. This makes complete sense to me. What happened here is god-like shock and awe.

Why was pounamu so important? It was used to create weapons, tools and jewellery. Equally, it was highly regarded as taonga, a precious gift, and held deep spiritual significance for Māori.

Since humans arrived on these islands, they have made an indelible mark on the landscape. As its Environmental Protection Agency notes, “The net result of Māori and European exploitation of New Zealand’s indigenous forest was the destruction of approximately three-quarters of the forest, reducing it from 82% to 23% of the land surface area.” Incredible, I reflected. Perhaps a better word is sad. I mused, Aotearoa used to look mostly like the wilderness I was now surrounded by.

On location with the Ngai Tahu Film crew James Wilkes hikes the Hollyford Track - a life-changing journey on one of the world’s greatest walks.

The jet boat’s reinforced hull leaned to the left and then quickly right as it weaved its way through the crystal-clear rapids of the Hollyford River, or in Māori (https://teara.govt.nz/en/te-reo-maori-the-maori-language/), Whakatipu Kā Tuka. And what a ride: the wind rushed past, the sky was perfect blue, and the day was T-shirt temperature.

?The jet boat straightened course on track to Lake McKerrow, a 15km long waterway (technically a fiord), which had the infamous Alpine Fault running directly beneath it. ?Standing proudly on each side of the lake was Mother Nature’s artistry. Tall forests, glacial valleys, majestic mountains. A living watercolour of blues and whites with every possible hue of olive and green. On display, 80 million years of New Zealand’s Gondwana heritage. It was an awe-inspiring landscape and found nowhere else on Earth. Ansel Adams, the grandfather of modern landscape photography would have approved.

?The tramping group, mostly Baby Boomers, were mesmerised. Their eyes widened as they took in the scale and grandeur of the Hollyford Valley, a part of Te Wāhipounamu located in the remote Southwest of New Zealand. A stunning region covering 10% of the country’s land mass. Its boundaries embrace four equally spectacular and significant National Parks.

?The jetboat blasted across the water transporting the small group out to the coast where they would stay at Waitai Lodge, in Martins Bay. As the shadows lengthened, spirits were high. It was already a deeply immersive journey into the heartland of New Zealand’s soul. The BIG surprise in waiting was just how deeply the experience would impact some of our lives, especially mine.

On the Hollyford Track

My wilderness experience had begun a few weeks ago. My wife Michèle, an Accountant at Ngai Tahu Tourism had arrived home and excitedly announced we were being offered an opportunity to undertake a four day hike on Ngai Tahu Tourism’s managed Hollyford Valley Track wilderness experience.

As I scrolled through the information online, Beyond Belief Fiordland suggested, “The Hollyford Track hike begins within the Darran Mountains and follows the impressive Hollyford River to Martins Bay. The track is often regarded as the ultimate mountains to sea experience and is easily walked in both directions.” Alright then, there was no way I was missing out on the ‘ultimate mountains-to-sea experience’. Next question. Do we (I) need to get fitter first? The answer was an embarrassing yes. Ok, that certainly won’t hurt me.

And then more questions. Do we need hiking boots? Yes. Warm clothing? Yes. Waterproof? stuff? Yes. It turned out we needed quite a bit of ‘stuff’, nevertheless, after digesting the available reading (www.hollyfordtrack.com?) and consuming a diet of Hollyford You Tube content, the fire had been lit.

The trip had come about because Ngai Tahu Tourism wanted to capture some promotional video footage for marketing purposes. They required hikers prepared to eat delicious food and be filmed while walking through a World Heritage wilderness area. Ok then. My first thought was wow, cool, that sounds amazing. Second thought: I’m perfect for such a task. Then my left brain caught up with my right brain. I quickly googled: How long is the Hollyford Track? Answer, 56 kilometres. O…k, that sounds doable over four days even for me.

Right then, moving on. What does a four-day Hollyford Track hiking itinerary look like? Pretty straightforward actually. Ngai Tahu Tourism have honed the experience so well the main requirement for hikers is simple: show up, walk, take it all in.

Most people choose to fly directly into Queenstown where the first day begins with a briefing and orientation session. The experience starts when hikers are picked up from Queenstown by private coach for the transfer trip through to Te Anau. The trip is 171 kilometres long and takes around two hours. As Michèle and I live in Christchurch, we chose to drive. Our trip was 638 kilometres long, two pies, and a couple of flat whites. Time taken: approximately 8 hours. Fun factor, high. It is one of New Zealand’s best road trips. ?

In Te Anau, we received a comprehensive pre-departure briefing and met our fellow hikers for the first time. I had a couple of questions related to pack weight, given I wanted to take photographic equipment, which included a camera body, a couple of lenses and my tripod. The experienced guides suggested 7 kilos was a good load weight to aim for. I would be double that. One guide (who will remain unnamed) looked at me with a knowing and whimsical smile. Uh oh!

Our first day on the track kicked off at 7.00am with a private coach trip from our hotel to the beginning of the trail head. Day one’s objective, a 19.5 kilometre hike into Ka Tuku Lodge. It will be the longest leg undertaken over our three-days on the Hollyford Track.??

Day two aims for, and ends in Martins Bay at the coast, but first up there is a side trip to Wāwāhi Waka (Lake Alabaster). The detour includes a stop off at the infamous Pyke bridge. From there it’s on to the Hollyford jet boat for the trip down the Hollyford River and across Lake McKerrow.

On the final day, hikers explore the dunes, consume some more history and enjoy exploring the Martins Bay beach walk to the spit. The relaxed walk provides some breathing room and a slower pace. It’s an opportunity to chill, relax, and soak up the experience. Then as a grand finale, hikers are flown out by helicopter and get to enjoy a spectacular view of the coastline, which includes a breathtaking leg down the majestic Milford Sound. The flight ends at Milford Airport. For those interested in the full itinerary it is available at: www.hollyfordtrack.com.

I digress, let me rewind. Back to the trail head. Back to the start of the hike. Our hiking guides (Bard & Fiona) have just made an important announcement. Due to the film crew’s tight schedule, today’s hike would begin with a helicopter ride to the Hidden Falls hut. This cut 7 kilometres out of the first day’s 19.5 kilometres. We were all grinning from ear to ear. No one said we were hardcore hikers and who doesn’t love a helicopter ride?

The helicopter approached and commenced its descent just as I finished attaching the lens to my camera. Michèle had been selected in the first group. Excellent. I will be able to get some great shots of her getting into the helicopter and taking off. It was rewarding to see Michèle having so much fun, and critically, this experience was providing her with a coal-face experience in a business she was an integral part of.

I’m selected in the next group. My turn now. Headphones on. Power up, lift off. The rotor blades settled into a steady, purposeful, rhythm as they manipulated the airflow beneath them. Gravity defied. It has to be said, flying in a helicopter is cool and weird at the same time. It somehow doesn’t quite feel natural or easy. Probably because it isn’t. Exhilarating though, it was.?

And what a view. Literally, a bird’s eye view. I could see everything right down the Hollyford Valley. Sitting next to the pilot my view was uninterrupted. It was mesmerising and over too quickly. Down we came. Door open. Duck. Walk. We had landed at Sunshine hut.

Game on. We were now officially hiking on the Hollyford Track. I heard the water thundering well before I saw the Hidden Falls. Surrounded by native trees and plants it was lush. I tried to keep the spray off my lens as I snapped shot after shot. Fail.

The water cascaded into a rocky pool below, morphed into rapids, and flowed into the Hollyford River. It left behind a swirling mist that rose up to meet the beech trees, which were doing the impossible by somehow managing to grow on the fall’s vertical edges. Magnificent. The whole place was breathtaking. It was easy to understand why Māori revered Te Wahipounamu, South West New Zealand.

Back on the main track we continued towards Ka Tuku Lodge, our objective for day one.? A swing bridge provided safe passage across the first of many gin clear rivers. As I wandered along, feet cushioned in my new Scarpa boots, I had worked up a thirst. At this point, our lead guide Bard demonstrated his psychic abilities and suggested, “Fill up your water bottles anywhere you like. The water is beautiful.” And it was. I mean it really was. Cool, pure, refreshing, and delicious. A perfect natural output from a perfect natural system.

Hiking continues. My body is holding up fine. Confidence is growing. I can do this. To those reading this who are not supreme athletes, relax. The Hollyford Track hike is mostly a flat valley walk. You do not need to be Sir Ed. I’m actually feeling great, which I’ll admit was a little surprising.

There is something about nature, fresh air, and pristine environments that refuels your soul. Nature has a way of gently reconnecting you with the real world, whilst reminding you of your place. It’s message is simple. We humans are meant to be part of nature, not separated from it.

The perfect weather continued, it was absolutely goldilocks hiking conditions. And before we knew it we arrived at Ka Tuku Lodge. We were greeted by our friendly hosts and shown to our beautiful ensuite equipped rooms. We showered, changed, and then re-joined our fellow hikers back in the main lodge. Beer or wine? Very civilised, beer first. I’ll have a red with dinner, which was venison so that worked.

Day two on the Hollyford. I’m feeling great, raring to go. After a nourishing cooked breakfast we enjoyed a short side trip to Lake Alabaster. It was perfectly calm water with mist gently rising. Not a breath of wind. 100% pure joy. On the way back to the lodge we all took turns walking on the Pyke River swing bridge.

After a touch more energy preloading – delicious sustenance - we departed from Ka Tuku Lodge and hiked for half an hour or so to meet up with the jet boat.

First stop, Jamestown. Bard took time to share stories of the early settlers. They had faced serious challenges. In fact, the entire history surrounding the region is littered with tales of people fighting against impossible odds. Life was hard and often short. After reflecting how lucky we are today it was back on the jet boat and down Lake McKerrow to rejoin the track.

Disembarking from the jetboat we hiked through magnificent podocarp forest to the northern most tip of Martins Bay, reaching a seal colony to witness baby seal pups playing.

Our last day arrived. I woke up well before the alarm clock, quickly got dressed and grabbed my camera. I headed off to capture sunrise. And thank the Māori gods I did because something really special was about to kick off.

The ‘something special’ is called the ‘dawn chorus’ and it began slowly at first. Just a few birds warbling away. Ok, nice, that sounds beautiful. The sun slowly rose and rising with it was the dawn chorus volume. Up, and up, and up some more. Whaaaaaat?

There were thousands of birds singing now and they all had their own groove. The orchestrated crescendo of sound built to infinity. It was like the New York Philharmonic of nature and it was loud, really loud. So much for quiet forests. No words. Spirit lifted. Soul moved.

On the last day we hitched a quick jet boat ride across the river from the lodge to the sand dunes. It was another stunning location and the weather gods were still looking after us. The sun shone, the ocean glimmered. We slowly walked along the beach.

By the time we made it back to the lodge, everyone was completely relaxed.? We would have jumped at the chance to stay longer but our time was up. The helicopter landed on the front lawn of the Lodge ready to fly us down the coast and into the majestic Milford Sound. What a finale and another high point for the trip. Honestly, if you’re searching for the greatest walks in the world, here is one of them, but be warned, this wilderness experience will win your mind first and then…it will steal your heart.

During the 120 kilometre coach trip back from Milford Airport to Te Anau - enjoying the incredible Milford Road vista - I asked Michèle what she loved most about her Hollyford Track experience. Here’s what she said:

?“I loved everything! I was blown away by the helicopter flight and jetboat rides. Normally a thrilling experience in their own right, ?but what gave me such a high was the sense of ‘place’ that we were in. So very beautiful and remote. I’m struggling to find the words to explain how good it feels to step away from your every day to be absorbed into this ‘out-of-world’ experience. It blew my mind. You don’t realise how much you benefit from stepping away from the rat race and losing yourself in the beauty of it all.”?

Reflections

And that’s one of the great things about this magical wilderness experience. It forced me to slow down, which doesn’t sound like a big deal at first, but it is. Why? Because when I slow down the mundane reality of everyday life evaporates from my mind. It is replaced with time to think. Time to explore my feelings. Time to reflect on what I really believe in.

How sad is it when you examine the colossal damage human beings have wrought on our planet? As a 1963 born boomer, I can’t help thinking about my generation’s impact. Boomers have enjoyed the best lives in human history. Is a planet stripped of natural resources and beauty what we’re leaving behind? Is that going to be our legacy?

In 2023, research published in the journal Science Advances updated the ‘safe operating space’ for humanity reporting, “A major scientific analysis has revealed that humanity has broken six out of nine planetary boundaries, including for climate change, biodiversity loss, and freshwater use, meaning we face a high risk of sudden or irreversible environmental changes.”

In our quest to live ‘fulfilled’ and ‘meaningful’ lives we have taken consumerism to infinity and beyond. For example, sustaining an average Australian lifestyle in 2024 requires 4.8 earths to maintain. An American lifestyle needs 3.9 earths. This is mathematically inconvenient to those entrenched in these lifestyles because, clearly, we only have…ONE earth. An immutable law of System Dynamics warns that overshooting systems collapse. It begs the question? What happens then?

The critical importance of what I was seeing and experiencing in this pristine wilderness environment was emerging. For me, it felt like a transfusion of hard core reality. It was surging into my bloodstream. Here, in this place, everything functioned as nature intended. Aesthetic design was everywhere, in everything.

The smallest orchid in the world here, an amazing mountain vista there. Here is a 500 year old Tōtara symbolising growth and life and on it went. The big tree’s forest friends included other podocarps such as Rimu, Kahikatea, Miro, and Matai. They were all spectacular ancient survivors.

Many of the trees had been alive in 1717 when the Alpine fault ruptured last time. Some had been purifying the air with oxygen when Māori arrived. Others had enjoyed Moa (nine species) walking beneath their canopies as they roamed the forest floor. And some had hosted Haast Eagles weighing in at 18 kilograms with wingspans up to 3 metres (a golden eagle’s wingspan measures 1.8 to 2.3 metres). Imagine these majestic birds riding the thermals of Fiordland. ?It would have been quite something, which in the context of my reflection here is poignant. What else are we in danger of losing forever? ??

Bard, our guide, punctuated the walk with the history of Māori and early Pakeha, highlighting the challenges of the day. His narrative highlighted how human beings in general bring a unique ability to impact the environments they inhabit. These impacts often emulate feedbacks in System Dynamics, which simply put is an approach that accepts everything is connected.

Change one part of the system and the entire system is altered. Systems can be sustainable or they can be set to overshoot, in which case they collapse. As it turns out, humans have a history of creating conditions for systems collapse. Think fisheries, forestry, and water exploitation. Of course, humans have a choice, natural environments do not.

I couldn’t stop thinking: we’ve cut all the beautiful, life sustaining, natural landscapes down to create space for monocultures. Our trip from Christchurch to Te Anau reinforced this thought. Green, industrially fertilised, farmland, had been with us for most of the 8 hour road trip. Why?

Short answer: to accommodate man’s seemingly insatiable need for commodities like dairy, forestry, and beef and lamb. ?

The monoculture environments needed to support this commodity production is now contributing to making human beings and the planet we all live on sick. Farmland is now, very sadly, the default landscape of New Zealand, with approximately 70,000 farms covering 50 percent of the country’s land area. There is not a Haast Eagle in sight. Majestic Podocarps have been turned into houses.

Sadly, the farming model embraced by New Zealand’s primary producers has meant that for more than a century, a monoculture approach has served as the default farming system. This choice has created massive environmental damage. Particularly to New Zealand’s once pristine waterways.

The price for this environmental damage – defined as externalities – has so far, not been accounted for. Dr Mike Joy, a renowned fresh water warrior at Victoria University, Wellington, tells it like it is:

“So it’s quite simple for freshwater, it will mean a big deintensification. The kind of farms that are sustainable are nothing like the farms we have at the moment. The more unsustainable type of farming is what we have – which is a monoculture that runs on fossil fuel and mined phosphate that is irreplaceable.”

Being able to experience natural systems like the one I was surrounded by during my hike makes the Hollyford Track a genuine bucket list contending experience. That is because it is almost impossible to witness an untouched world like the Hollyford Valley anywhere, anymore. I would describe the Hollyford Track as awe-inspiring, and in many ways…life-changing.

Our so-called human progress enabled by industrial extraction and exploitation of the planet’s natural resources has come at enormous cost. Socially. Economically. Climatically. Human’s contemptuous disregard for their own survival is astonishing. I don’t get it. ??

And struggling with this thought process, in this place, was changing me. Here, right in front of me was a pristine ecological system. If only it could talk. What would it say? I think it would tell us in no uncertain terms to immediately stop crossing planetary boundaries. It would tell us to back track, fast. Or maybe it wouldn’t. Maybe it would consider what a world without humans in it would look like? The answer is, a lot like the Hollyford.

That said, the definition of boundary is: something that points out or shows a limit or end. Humans have already crossed six of the nine planetary boundaries we shouldn’t have crossed. Why does that matter? Simple, planetary boundaries are essentially safe spaces, frontiers, do not pass zones. These are needed for the sustainability of life on our planet. They should never be exceeded.

The whole industrial farming thing started out harmlessly enough. Its attraction was obvious. Better yields, increased revenues, and hopefully, larger profits. People were fed, the world (rich nations mostly) prospered. The idea worked incredibly well until the reality of systems overshooting and collapsing started to become a reality.

Maintaining production levels came with a requirement for more pesticides, higher use of industrial fertilizers, and significantly higher water use. The unwanted byproduct of this approach was soil degradation and fertility loss. In lock-step with these negatives came a decrease in biodiversity, impacts to pollinators, and significant economic risks. In essence, farmers had all (or most) of their eggs in one basket and the basket was in poor shape.

Final Thoughts

The Hollyford Wilderness experience offers mankind a rare glimpse into an untouched world. Here, nature operates in perfect harmony. Nature doesn’t fight with itself. It doesn’t deplete finite resources. Nature moves and flows and bends. It nurtures and protects. When left unmolested, it is an enduring, resilient, life-sustaining system and that includes sustaining human life.

As I look out at the Hollyford wilderness, 80 million years old and counting, my life has changed. A fault line of self-doubt has been removed. The case for a radical shift in how we think and see our big beautiful planet is clear and present. Natural systems are only vulnerable to one thing, man. What we all need to wake up and realise – quickly - is without ?nature remaining intact, we won’t thrive, and long-term, we might not even survive.?

Walking the Hollyford Track has been a privilege. It has allowed me to peer into New Zealand’s soul. I have looked, listened, and learned. I have felt the country’s heart beating. It was right beneath my feet. And what a ride. For me, the Hollyford Track was love at first hike.

Ends.

Writer's Bio: Dr. James Wilkes is a Western Australian currently based in Christchurch, New Zealand. As a marketing and management professional he has consulted across multiple industries and countries. These days, he is all about storytelling leveraging his love for photo-journalism and street photography. He believes a picture paints a thousand words and those thousand words really matter.

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