The Road to Milford Sound, continued....

Leaving the Hollyford Valley behind the road met up with a river which seemed to be fed by the imposing mountains now towering above me. As the rain fell waterfalls appeared cascading down from the mountain peaks high above. Warning signs alerted me to the fact that I was now in an avalanche risk area and was unable to stop. This went on for over 30km - such are the perils in this area. The snow now blanketed the sides of the road and as I climbed higher the rain itself actually turned to snow.

Snow lines the road up towards Homer Tunnel

Approaching Homer Tunnel – which was famously cut out through the mountainside to provide much needed manual labour after the war years, the mountains seem to move closer to the roadside and gigantic boulders and lumps of rock lay scattered about. No wonder it was a no stopping area I thought to myself! I had to stop a little further however as the lights for the tunnel were red. It is run on a one way system and the waiting time on the big board in front of me advised 10 minutes. Just enough time to jump out of the car, pull on the waterproofs, and take some essential photographs. Snapping the shots was so easy as there were epic views in every direction. Trying to take in the colossal might of the place and it's sheer wonderment was though another matter. No picture could ever do it justice. Sometimes nature just wins hands down, leaving you with the impression that you are both small and insignificant in her immense scheme of things.

The waiting sign at the entrance to Homer Tunnel

Eventually the lights turned to green and I drove carefully through the tiny hole in the mountainside - no Homer Tunnel isn't small, but it does look like a dot on the mountainside when you are in such a place. Driving through I counted the markings, 600km, 800km etc until I reached the light at the end. It was quite a relief Homer Tunnel is not for the faint hearted, once you've experienced it you will understand my statement. I've been through it in fog once before which was quite an ordeal, a case of clinging on for sheer will if I'm honest. Finally emerging into the Cleddau Valley on the other-side of the mountain range my breath nearly left my body and my hands tightened ever so more on that steering wheel. The drop into Cleddau Valley is impressive, it’s also slightly scary as you corkscrew around the tight bends in the road plummeting you down into the valley. There used to be a great stopping point in this area known as The Chasm but sadly it’s closed at the moment due to the storms earlier in 2020 that caused significant damage in this area. After driving through the avalanche zone for so long I breathed a huge sigh as the signs indicated I was finely free of such risks. Yes, these days the road is controlled and monitored well, with hazardous snow build ups reduced by detonator when the road is closed, to try to prevent any unforeseen avalanche. Nothing is certain though and we all know that nature is a force to be reckoned with.

Nature rules in such a place

I continued weaving my way around the valley floor through dense New Zealand Fiordland rainforest before eventually I reaching my destination, Milford Sound. The drive had been one of amazement, bewilderment, gob smacking scenery and a small bit of terror – colossal in every respect and one that lives in the memory forever afterwards.

The seating area in the Milford Lodge, a welcome escape from the weather

Rain pours down the window panes at Milford Lodge which is surrounded by native rainforest

Milford Lodge was my first port of call as I parked up and purchased a well earnt coffee to relax the nerves and enjoy in their freshly decorated café. The fur coverings on my seat warming me as I watched the rain tumble through the bush and wash down the window outside – this is the Fiordlands after all and to make it this incredible it needs all that rain…..

The departure point for boat trips at Milford Sound

a big sigh, the Road to Milford Sound

They say the journey is sometimes as good as the destination. And on occasions it can actually be better.

The whole aim of this blog is to encourage everyone to get out there are try things and sometimes that involves a long drive, sometimes it’s just down the road.  

Milford Road is one of those journeys that transcends your everyday – it is something unforgettable and is worthy of the drive even if there was nothing worthwhile to see at the end. The end of this road though is Milford Sound – reckoned by many to be possibly the eighth wonder of the world. (please see my earlier blog about Milford Sounds boat cruises). 

Taking a boat cruise at Milford Sound is a must do…

Milford Road leaves the township of Te Anau behind and follows the side of it’s namesakes lake for quite some time. Rolling hillside and lakeside accommodation passes by. In the distance large mountains loom their lofty peaks covered in snow. On the left hand side you pass the docking point for the boat ferrying hikers to the start of the legendary Milford Track, and then the road suddenly turns left and those mountains lie ahead of you. The farmland continues with fields full of hardy sheep, paradise shell ducks and some resilient cattle. This continues until you reach Etherington Valley, a long road takes you through the its heart alongside a braided river which roars through the valley.

Ethrington Valley on the road to MIlford

There are viewing points along the road to take photographs of the oncoming wilderness. A short drive further down the road reaches knobs flat, an accommodation and information point with an essential bathroom stop if one is needed. You then venture onwards until the landscape turns to bush and several Department of Conservation campsites hidden a short distance away. The next stopping point is on the left hand side with  long pull off for Mirror Lakes.

A South Island Robin is a reluctant poser for photographs at Mirror Lakes, Milford Road

A boardwalk takes you above these small lakes to allow you a good vantage point to see the reflection in the water of the towering mountains looming above. They have even kindly left a sign above the lake reflecting the name of the place, very clever. On my visit I was alone for much of the time and that ensured lots of wildlife viewing – a grey duck, native to New Zealand was nearby pecking at insects floating on the water. I also spied a rare South Island Robin, which pirouetted a few times around me but didn’t seem to keen to pose for it’s photograph for some bizarre reason….

A rare ‘grey duck’ samples some insect life on the Mirror Lake surface. The reflection from the mountains above is also clear

As I drove onwards the bush became thicker and darker, creeping up alongside the roadway as if trying to reclaim it as its own. After a small one lane bridge a sign pointed towards a campsite and a nature walk. Intrigued I drove a short distance and parked up. An information board advised me that there was a 45 minute loop walk to enjoy down to the shore line of Lake Gunn.

The green moss floor that greets you in the Milford Road bush

What struck me first was how green everything was. It was a shade of emerald bright and dazzling in the sunlight but dark and unnerving in the gloom. Everything was smothered in a moss of some sort. Trees grew out of other trees and hardy ferns covered the forest floor.

Dan at the start of the Nature Walk through native forest to the shoreline of Lake Gunn

An opening in the bush bought me to Lake Gunn, a lake surrounded on all sides by dense native bush. The water lapped at the small stones at my feet as I stood and admired the view. There wasn’t a sound to be heard except the lapping of the shallow clear water. I learnt that the lake stretched over 3km’s and I was only looking out at a small part of it. I continued on the loop walk back to my car listening to the local bird song echoing from the branches up above.

Trees growing up and around and out of other trees are common sights in this damp forest

The road as I drove onwards was now becoming narrower and windier.  I passed a sign informing me that it was the last campsite available to Milford Sound, I was entering the true wilderness area.

I started climbing upwards noticing how the bush appeared to be getting thicker in places. The road now seemed to be cut out of the cliffside with a steep slope to the side of me along which waterfalls plummeted down. At least that’s what I think they did, as at this point my knuckles were white from the grip on my steering wheel.

Mountains surround you on all sides on Milford Road

 On the way up to Milford the cloud was low and a fog had settled across the valley obscuring the views. On my way back however the sun had burnt it all away exposing the vast valley below. The pull off at the viewing point overlooking Hollyford Valley is named pops point after one of the original caretakers who sadly got swept away in an avalanche whilst trying to clear the road.

Coming next, the giant boulders, unfathomable terrain and Homer Tunnel