Excuse me for interrupting, but can you tell me which way to the nearest Town please….?

This is the first in a series of blogs featuring a number of unusual and unexpected encounters with people who are totally out of their depth while they venture in our beautiful mountain country of the South Island… I call this one….”.Excuse me for interrupting, but can you tell me which way to the nearest town please..!”

Read on….

Most of my adult life I have  horse trekked extensively within our South Island mountain country any where from Blenheim in the north right down to Alexandra in the South, and over my time in the saddle the same theme in some folks seems to crop up on a regular basis…. what I am talking about is people read glossy pamphlets about hiking trails and in these pamphlets are often pictures of lovely fine days with happy folks strolling along admiring the fantastic views, and coupled with this often the centre fold out will show an animated drawing of said trails that to the average eager tramper looks easy peasy to go and do … so easy that their imagination tells them to just take the basics as its only xyz time and in no time they will have completed the journey and be back home…!

So, for this true story first  encounter, I had planned a nine day round horse trek starting at the Acheron historic Homestead site in the back of Hanmer Springs, with the first day down the Clarence river, crossing it, then crossing the Dillon river, up over a low saddle and down for the first night at Stoat creek hut..

Next day we set out up the long valley behind the hut finding the Bullin hills pack track which climbed to the summit of the bullin saddle then the long descent down into the ruggered Clarence Gorge river area, and across and up to the Cloudy Range Station hut for the second night… third day saw us winding our way following the clarence river down thru the long gorge, crossing the metre deep and some 50 metres wide river quite a number of times to end up at our third nights remote hut called closters 

Now Closters hut is in itself not easy to find as its up a side creek from the main Clarence river and tucked in behind a small bluff area that if one didnt know where the horse access pack track went up over the side hill it would indeed be a challenge to arrive at the hut…

So having unsaddled the two horses, and with the time this early autumn evening of around 5.30 / 6pm, I had pulled a chair out from the hut and was sitting out enjoying a nice can of bourbon and coke, when something startled both horses…

From down this Closters stream behind the hut, walked a young German fellow, wearing shorts and a tee shirt, and carrying what only looked like a day pack… I couldnt see any bed roll / sleeping bag or warm clothing, which indeed the pack was far too small to fit much, as he walked up to me without saying anything at all except…Excuse me for interrupting, but can you tell me which way to the nearest town please…????

Now for a second or two I must confess that I was at a total loss for words upon hearing this young mans request… I initially thought to myself .. hell I could look in any direction from where I sat and I would be at least 30 to 40 kilometres as the crow flies to any small town…

I asked him where he had come from and gathered that he had not been long in New Zealand and wanted to see as much as he could, but he couldnt remember from which town he had started from.. I asked him how many days he had been wondering around out here… this was his third day and he said he had crossed over a steep mountain to get here.. my next stupid question was have you a map or GPS with you… NO came the answer…. O my geddy aunt..!

I tried to explain that here in the mountains the weather can change in a very short time from a nice sunny day to rain and even snow at any time of year, but his reply was simply he had enjoyed lovely fine weather … I asked if he had eaten today to which he replied that he wasn’t hungry, and insisted in wanting to know the way to the nearest town…with the time, late evening I said he may as well stay here the night but no…. he wanted to keep going… again I said it will soon be dark and in this area it gets very dark but undeterred he was determined to carry on…Ok ok… I started to try and explain how to skirt around the bluff in front of us but said it wouldnt be safe to cross the Clarence river on ones own but he said he already did that yesterday… crazy man…. anyway I explained that he needed to walk back up thru the Clarence gorge then back up over the Bullin hills which in itself is very easy to get lost but heck he didnt give me or himself many options, then down the Dillon river to confluence of it and the Clarence once again then cross it and head back up to the Acheron and out to Hanmer, but said it will take you the best part of four to five days even if you dont get lost…. right O was his reply and with that he departed…Hmmmm just stupid stupid people..! 

Now we jump forward to day eight of my trek in which I had travelled down to the Seymor hut, across to Lake McRae, over the Carter saddle to Half moon Hut then out to the Guide river , Tarndale, Sedgemere and this day had arrived at the Fowlers Hut on the Top house road….

I was standing in the doorway of the hut just gazing around at the scenery, when I caught sight of something or someone away up the top house road and after several minutes noted that the thing was indeed heading towards us

Some twenty minutes later as this person came in through the huts gate I couldn’t believe my eyes…… yes folks our intrepid young German fellow, and I am not sure who got the bigger surprise him or I !

I asked him where he had come from and he simply didnt know…. I asked if he would like to have some of my tea that I had prepared…..NO was his answer… he again just wanted to know how to get out and back to a town… I said simply stay on this road for around 22 kilometres until you come to a Y in the road and its sign posted to Hanmer Spring at that junction, but I said it will still take two long days to walk out, and with that he waved as he walked off into the evening sunset…

All next day I kept a look out for him as we travelled much of the same route but never saw him again….

I am writing these series of blogs from witnessing several, such as these under prepared people venturing into the back country,,, nobody knew who he was.. nobody knew his intent, his duration, or if he made it out in one piece…. would search and rescue, have any idea where to start looking should he be missed…? and all this at what cost…!