I went on my first big hike in my 40s. It changed the way I see travel

Sydney Morning Herald

24-05-2025

This article is part of Traveller's Holiday Guide to Adventure & Outdoors. See all stories.
In a shopfront in Queenstown, New Zealand, surrounded by eager hikers, an official Milford Track guide eyes my bulging backpack.
'That looks heavy,' he says, grabbing the top handle and lifting it a few inches off the ground. 'Are you sure you want to take all that?'
My old friend Katie looks down at her own backpack, blithely aware that hers is a few kilos heavier than mine, and shoots me a smirk.
'I think we can handle it,' she replies.
After all, we'd been through more together than the 53.5-kilometre hike looming ahead of us. Decades ago, we were two young single women navigating careers in entertainment in the noughties. 'Push through' was our motto – but we weren't yet aware how far that manifesto was about to be tested.
But first, let's flash back to the start of last year. Post-pandemic and with two brand new pandemic babies on my hip, I'd struggled to truly engage with a series of travel experiences that would have previously left me in awe. Travel had always been my go-to mood elevator and perspective-shifter in one; now I felt nothing. I needed to upend my approach to travel – and I decided the physical challenge of a multi-day hike was in order. Touch grass, if you will.
Thirty years earlier, my mum had hiked the Milford Track at 40, after birthing my sister – and with myself just turned 41, post-second baby, I felt like the celestial symmetry of it all was too good to be true. Or maybe it was the female equivalent of a midlife crisis? Either way, I locked myself in for the five-day adventure, and convinced my old friend to join me.
The 'Great' Milford Track
The Milford Track is one of New Zealand's 'Great Walks' – perhaps its most famous – and winds its way through a temperate rainforest, expansive wetlands, crystal clear waters, and an alpine pass. Maori have been passing through these exquisite natural trails for centuries, hauling valuable greenstone through the pass – but nowadays only 90 people at a time are permitted to haul everything they need for five days in a neat, 10-kilogram backpack.
Forty of those keen-eyed hikers (or 'trampers' in the local lingo) are independent walkers who must complete the track in four days, staying at the basic Department of Conservation-maintained huts. But me? Well, if the offer of hot showers, catered meals, and local wine was on the table, I was going to take it – so we booked our spot among the remaining 48 escorted hikers who would be tramping into the typically changeable weather conditions of the Fiordland National Park with Ultimate Hikes, staying at their private on-track lodges.
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My bestie and I flew into Queenstown on a sunny Sunday, convening at the Ultimate Hikes HQ the day before we headed into the depths of the Fiordland. I had been training for a few months prior to the big day – but now, here, looking at the fitness level surrounding me, I was intimidated. I'll be honest, at this point I promptly headed back to my accommodation and repacked, removing a few things in a desperate attempt to reduce the weight in my backpack – the one that had already caught the concerned eye of our guide.
A beginner's guide to the five-day hike
For anyone else new to this, here are a few things I learned on my first five-day hike. Firstly, you need less than you think you do – so take out those extra items because you'll be cursing them after six hours of slogging uphill with an extra kilo on your back. If the forecast is rain, shorts are a better option than pants – I ended up ditching my hiking pants mid-trail, as they clung to me uncomfortably with the slightest addition of moisture. Obviously, break in your hiking boots if they're new – I completed several six to eight kilometre walks around town before I arrived, while wearing my socks and boots, to wear them in. As any hiker will tell you, blisters are the enemy. Especially when you have to hike another 20 kilometres the next day.
Invest in the kind of insect spray that is probably banned in several states for its toxicity. I joke, but even with Bushman Plus, a heavy duty, 80 per cent DEET insect repellent, I was still covered in bites. And finally, a note on the cold: if you're planning to hike during the summer months – even in an environment that looks to be cool (our hike to the pass dipped to around 6 degrees) – you'll get hotter than you think you will. Choose breathable fabrics that keep cool but also stay warm when you need them to, even while wet: merino wool socks, heat-tech base layers, quick-dry top layers, and a light raincoat that can layer over other things. As our guides reiterated to us multiple times: be bold, start cold.
The itinerary
Day one on the walk is an easy one. A ferry from Te Anau Downs to the Milford Track starting point is a beautiful introduction to exactly how off-grid you're about to get – because there's absolutely zero phone reception or Wi-Fi for the next five days. After a quick hike of just over a kilometre, we arrive at our first lodge – a simple room with either bunks and a shared bathroom, or a private room with your own ensuite. Dinner is early – as is the daily start time – but with three courses and a range of wines to choose from (at extra cost), there's nothing to complain about.
Day two is the first challenge: a 16-kilometre trek to your pit stop at Pompolona Lodge, where we get a briefing about day three – the most challenging day on the itinerary. Starting out early at around 6am, we begin the climb to the 1140 metre-high McKinnon Pass, and the equally challenging descent. It's raining heavily for the descent, so we have to take a slightly steeper 'emergency track' - but either way, our thighs are burning by the time we lumber into Quintin Lodge, sore but proud.
Our last walking day is the longest: a fairly flat 21 kilometres, but not without its challenges – particularly if you've reached torrential proportions of rain, like we did by the time we arrived at the accurately named Sandfly Point. We check in, write our names on the victor's board, and wait for the ferry back to Milford Sound.
On our last night, in Mitre Peak Lodge – back in relative civilisation, and unfortunately, back on phone reception – our muscles are aching, but at least there's an incredible view of the stunning Milford Sound. On our last day we gingerly board a cruise, smeared in Voltaren (another packing essential) to admire the natural beauty of the Sound. A four-hour bus ride back to Queenstown lends plenty of time to say goodbye to our hiking companions.
Beyond the hike
Emerging from the far-flung quietness of the Milford Track onto the busy Milford Sound ferry terminal, buzzing with tourists, is a disorienting experience. After months of physical preparation, I hadn't expected to have such a strong emotional reaction as we re-entered 'real life' – and the poisoned chalice of phone reception. A quiet panic attack ensued as the weight of waiting emails wore heavy on my chest; from the highest high of touching that final 33-mile marker and knowing I'd conquered such a huge goal – to the crashing low of realising it was all over, in the space of a swift, emotional 20 minutes. A fellow hiker received his first call in five days, only to discover it was a scam call. The irony of that was not lost on me.
As I breathed the last of the Milford Track's fragrant air, heavy with precipitation, and the rain threatened to topple our small ferry among the rattling waves, I scrolled through my phone in an attempt to recapture the magic. I landed on my three photos of three logbook pages from November 1994; three entries from exactly 30 years ago, scrawled into the yellowing pages in lovingly familiar handwriting. My mother's.
'I did it,' she exclaimed, in capital letters. 'Like playing in puddles,' with a wink. And perhaps that's what this search for something different was all about; finding the challenge in travelling again, finding my own moment in history. Imprinting my own one-sentence triumph into the pages of the Milford story.
Perhaps, one day, my boys will add their own.
The details
FLY
There are direct flights from Sydney, Melbourne, Brisbane and the Gold Coast to Queenstown with either Qantas, Virgin Australia, Jetstar or Air New Zealand.
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WALK
Meet your guides the day before the walk at Ultimate Hikes HQ in the centre of Queenstown. A four night/five day package, including accommodation at their private lodges, all meals, and a final-day cruise of the Milford Sound starts at $NZ2750 ($A2536) for share accommodation through to $NZ6690 ($A6148) for a private room. Walking season runs from November through to mid-April.
See ultimatehikes.co.nz