Farewell, Slaughterburn
A slip down a bank, and my knee was smashed. Painful to hobble.
It took 3 hours to shuffle the 2 km to Slaughterburn Hut, on Day 4 of my trip.
No great hurry, as I was still carrying 6 days of food, and I’d planned to spend a few nights there before returning along the South Coast Track.
After four nights, I finally dialled up the rescue chopper. Instead of my ELB (Electronic Locator Beacon), which basically has an on switch and you have no idea what is happening, I used the SOS satellite function on my iPhone. This would not alert my emergency contact, causing unnecessary alarm.
It worked, although at that latitude there’s not exactly a plethora of satellites to aim my phone at. They only came over the horizon for a few minutes while I texted, and then waited five minutes for the next satellite.
I engaged in quite the correspondence with the emergency services, and after an hour, I was notified that a helicopter was being dispatched. Less than an hour later, four high-vis jumpsuits popped out of the chopper and escorted my pack and me aboard.
What had taken me 35 hours over four days in my boots took 17 minutes of flight time. They asked my preferred destination: Invercargill Hospital, a good choice if the injury had been more serious, Te Anau, where they had come from, or my choice, the car park where my car was.
Otherwise, I would have to get back there in the future, 28 km west of Tuatapere on a mostly dirt road.
The Monday morning turned out to be a splendid day with excellent views as we flew over the Hump Ridge Track. When we landed, they waited to confirm that my car would start.
No worries.
I’m grateful that New Zealand has this free service. Without it, I’m not sure how I would have got back to civilisation.