New Zealand is known as a great destination for hiking and here in Southland it’s no different. We have our own share of walking tracks, long and short, and with our beautiful scenery and relative remoteness, you don’t have to travel too far to get away from it all.

One such local track is the Hump Ridge, a three-day loop located in Waitutu Forest at the south-east corner of Fiordland National Park. Roughly around 1800 hikers complete the track every year encountering rugged coastlines and experiencing fabulous views from sub-alpine hills, I however, am not one of them.

It all started with a call from my mate Ela, asking if she could borrow a sleeping bag because she was planning on walking a section of the Hump Ridge Track. Having a bit of space in my otherwise busy schedule, I invited myself to join her.

We started out like anyone else, from the Rarakau Farm car park near Blue Cliffs Beach but that’s about as far as we managed, being like anyone else! Most hikers tend to walk the track in an anti-clockwise direction, spending the first night at Okaka Lodge. Not us. For two reasons.

Firstly, that direction takes you over 3000 feet uphill and we were more interested in taking the relatively flat coastal route to the Port Craig Lodge, spending the night, then possibly making our way to the Percy Burn Viaduct – if we were feeling energetic enough – before heading back out the way we came.

Secondly, a chance encounter at a local sports store meant we weren’t even going to make it that far. While Ela was looking for boots, she got chatting to the sales girl, whose family just happened to have a hut at the mouth of the Waikoau River.

As a result, we’d made a quick stop near Tuatapere to search out her parent’s property and collect a key to their crib. There we were, complete strangers to these people walking into their yard to seek a key stashed under a milk pail on the veranda!

You’ve just got to love Southlanders and their generous, hospitable natures. Reminds me of the time we went to the Winton Races and the motel had left a post-it-note on the door telling us what room ours was and to make ourselves at home. The lady at the local dairy offered to drop us at the races and so did the motel owners when they returned. Random hospitality, it’s just the Southland Way.

Anyway, back to the Hump Ridge Track, or in this instance, not the Hump Ridge Track.

An easy 40-minute walk from the carpark and we arrived at the hut. It was an absolutely stunning day, there was not a breath of wind or even a light breeze, anyone that knows that part of the coast will appreciate the significance. We set ourselves up outside with a wee platter and couple of glasses of Sauv, all very civilised.

And there we sat, until the sun went down, taking in the scenery and serenity of the place, grateful for our blessings or sheer dumb luck. Either way, there were many ‘how good is this?’ moments.

Once the sun had disappeared over the horizon and the weather started to cool, we moved ourselves inside, lit the wood fire and sat, enjoying another glass of wine in front of the flickering firelight.

At some point we decided to take a walk down to the water and because the tide was going out, managed to collect a few mussels from the rocks. How good were they? Fresh off the rocks and lightly steamed on the open wood fire, washed down with another glass of wine.

Wine finished, we decided not to bother with the beds, instead tucking into our sleeping bags on the two couches in front of the fire, listening to the sound of the waves as we dozed off. Only to be woken a few hours later by a deep rumbling noise that sounded like the ocean was about to wash into the hut. It was very eerie and just a little unnerving!

The tide, however, did not wash us into the Southern Ocean and we woke to another beautiful day. After packing up our gear we headed back to the car vowing to tackle the Hump Ridge Track another day.

It’s in these moments I feel I’m truly living the ‘–‘.:

As an aside:

I’ve since discovered that the rumbling sound we heard is called a tidal bore. A phenomenon that occurs when an incoming tide forms a wave of water that travels up a river against the direction of the river’s current.