Travel - 6 min read
Walking the Routeburn in shoulder season
By Holly Pereira - 14 May 2026 - 4 views
Photo: Tobias Keller on Unsplash
Empty huts, frosted mornings and three days of huts-and-tussock joy on one of New Zealand's Great Walks just after the booking window closes.
The bus from Te Anau dropped us at The Divide before the cloud had lifted. Trampers in season would have been thirty-deep in jackets here, but in late April we were four. Four boots, four packs, and three days ahead.
The track climbs gently at first, then less gently, through silver beech that drips on you whether the rain has stopped or not. By the time we reached Lake Mackenzie the wind was up and the hut warden's kettle was already on. We dried our socks on the rack, ate two-minute noodles slowly, and watched the lake go from grey to gold to gone in under twenty minutes.
The middle day was the day we remembered why we came. Up over the Harris Saddle in clear, biting sun. A kea took an interest in Sam's pack and only let go once Sam offered up a hat. Below us the Hollyford valley unrolled like a green carpet someone had thoughtfully laid out for our benefit.
Routeburn Falls hut was almost empty - two Dunedin students and us. We swapped chocolate for stories. They were doing the track in two days; we tried not to feel old.
The walk out is the part nobody talks about, because by then your knees are noisy and your photos are taken. But the Routeburn river is worth the slog, and the Tea House at the road end is worth the river. We drank cocoa, peeled off our boots, and thought about doing it again next April.
The track climbs gently at first, then less gently, through silver beech that drips on you whether the rain has stopped or not. By the time we reached Lake Mackenzie the wind was up and the hut warden's kettle was already on. We dried our socks on the rack, ate two-minute noodles slowly, and watched the lake go from grey to gold to gone in under twenty minutes.
The middle day was the day we remembered why we came. Up over the Harris Saddle in clear, biting sun. A kea took an interest in Sam's pack and only let go once Sam offered up a hat. Below us the Hollyford valley unrolled like a green carpet someone had thoughtfully laid out for our benefit.
Routeburn Falls hut was almost empty - two Dunedin students and us. We swapped chocolate for stories. They were doing the track in two days; we tried not to feel old.
The walk out is the part nobody talks about, because by then your knees are noisy and your photos are taken. But the Routeburn river is worth the slog, and the Tea House at the road end is worth the river. We drank cocoa, peeled off our boots, and thought about doing it again next April.
