The 85km Old Ghost Road winds through remote forests, open alpine tops, river valleys, and rugged terrain on NZ’s South Island. Built on old gold-mining routes and reopened after more than a century of abandonment, it’s a stunning but demanding trail — not for the fainthearted.
My hiking buddy Jenny and I began our adventure in the rain at Lyell carpark, facing an 875m climb over 18km to our first hut. Despite a thick beech canopy, we were soaked early on. Weather was our biggest concern. Forecasts clashed — some promised clear skies, others warned of high winds. Our moods followed suit: Jenny worried about exposed alpine stretches ahead; I felt strangely euphoric, confident in our gear and the huts awaiting us each night.
A loud crack shattered our focus. A massive branch crashed nearby, reminding us that weather wasn't our only risk. Adrenaline surging, we pushed on through the misty forest, the Old Ghost Road living up to its name from the start.
Tracing Forgotten Paths
The track follows old 1860s dray roads that once served bustling gold-mining settlements. Those roads never connected, and the settlements vanished, leaving behind rusting tools and ghostly relics like old boots and kettles. The trail’s name pays homage to these echoes of the past.
It took a determined community effort to finally forge a continuous path through this tough terrain. Marion Boatwright’s Spirit to the Stone documents the epic build of this dual-use track for hikers and mountain bikers. While I love cycling, I was uneasy about bikes sharing narrow parts of the trail. Luckily, every rider we met was courteous, slowing to pass us safely.
More often, our companions were curious toutouwai (robins), hopping close on spindly legs.
Huts and High Places
We reached Lyell Saddle Hut to find five bikers and two hikers who graciously made space on the drying rack. The Mōkihinui-Lyell Backcountry Trust manages the huts, which have gas cookers, cookware — even coffee plungers. We’d booked a private sleepout for quiet rest. Though unheated and a bit damp, our strategy worked: set up, warm up in the main hut, then dive into sleeping bags on return.
Day Two dawned clear. We zigzagged 12km through forest to the alpine zone, passing snow patches and jagged peaks. We stopped at Heaven’s Door (1370m), where a thermos of tea accompanied misty views that gradually cleared to reveal a breathtaking valley.
That night, alone in Ghost Lake Hut, surrounded by mist and snow, we ditched the sleepout and stayed near the fire — warm, dry, and grateful.
From Ridge to Forest
Day Three brought more ridgeline walking and a descent we’d dreaded: the infamous Skyline Steps — all 303 of them. But to our relief, a new section of trail bypassed them entirely. Signposts and gear hinted at recent construction, giving the eerie feel of freshly laid "ghost" work.
We reached Stern Valley Hut, its screened porch a warning: we were now in sandfly country. A nearby stream featured a deep swimming hole, but we passed on a dip. We did spot a rare whio (blue duck) feeding at dusk, a highlight of the day.
Earthquakes and Endurance
Day Four was our longest—25km. It started gently, winding past Lakes Cheerful and Grim, then took a dramatic turn. A sign announced: "This hillside failed spectacularly during the last major earthquake." Giant rocks — some house-sized — littered the ‘Boneyard’. Another sign warned: "No stopping or lingering for the next 1km."
As we crossed, our responses diverged again: Jenny marvelled at plants growing from rubble while I mentally mapped escape routes in case the earth shifted.
Soon after, we reached Goat Creek Hut — air-dropped in 1957. The story goes one end was damaged in the drop, shortening the hut. It’s since been refurbished, though the original graffiti remains, one patch resembling a modern artwork.
We still had 8km to go to reach Mōkihinui Forks Hut. Exhausted, we stopped for a nap — only to be swarmed by sandflies when a hiker left the door open. We packed up fast and got back on the track just in time to meet Jenny’s partner Pete. His arrival gave us a boost, and the final 3km to Specimen Point Hut flew by as we swapped stories.
The Final Stretch
Our last day covered 17km along the Mōkihinui River’s edge. Just when we thought the drama was over, the trail threw in three swinging suspension bridges crossing the notorious ‘Suicide Slips’—a cliffside section as precarious as its name suggests. The adrenaline was real, but so was the sense of accomplishment.
At the trail's end, we were thrilled to discover the Rough and Tumble Bush Lodge. Cold drinks, toasties, homemade pizza, and soft couches were the perfect reward.
Looking back, the Old Ghost Road was challenging — emotionally and physically — but every moment was worth it. From ghost towns and gold rush relics to alpine passes, lush forests, and unexpected wildlife, this trail offered far more than just a walk. It was an unforgettable adventure — and yes, we’d do it again.
Words_Mathea Roorda