We made the long hitch back to the trail incredibly fast and ran into a large group of our friends that had been a few days behind. The now nine of us hiked out and crammed in a small hut for the evening to escape the sand flies. The next day we made it about 8km before getting to a really nice hut and calling it quits for the day. We caught up on sleep and lots of necessary eating. I got up and headed out early the next morning and spent most of the day alone until we got to a hot spring right off trail. It was small, swarming with sandflies, and reading of sulfur but the hot water felt like heaven to our aching muscles. The group of us made it to a hut and set up for the night, expecting rain. I ran outside early in the morning to feel the sprinkles hit the ground. As I stood out in dark valley, I heard a kiwi bird call out clear as day. Until then we had only been playing recordings off of a phone. I relished in this private moment. The next day was overcast and misty for most of the day. We hiked over a saddle and back down to the valley but not before passing a dead cow right in our water source. I hiked into the evening alone that night and when I realized I had gotten off trail, I found a flat spot and set up camp. As I slept, I heard the rustle of an animal close by. I woke up and found a pesky Weka trying to steal my shoes. I scared him off and started to drift back to sleep when the bird gave off one of the loudest calls I've heard from a bird. Startled myself, I sat up a bit in my tent as I heard galloping nearby. Before I could even think, half of my tent was being crushed in around me and I felt the soft brush of hooves against my shins. Suddenly my tent popped back up and the galloping disappeared. Unasured, I layed awake gripping my pocket knife for another hour. I got into town the next morning and decided to hitch into Christchurch to see the city. I was stunned by the amount of damage the earthquake had done and how much of it hadn't been rebuilt yet. I took a few rest days off there before getting back to the trail and having to play catch up. My friends were all ahead so I went on the move to try and speed up. I found a group I had met earlier on my first night out and decided to stick with them through a dangerous river section that is inadvisable to cross. We made it across in a breeze and kept moving. Unfortunately, all my efforts to catch up were for naught because I was getting lost at almost every junction and suddenly coming up behind the group I had left ahead of earlier. We loving accepted the group name "don't follow Goosebumps." We woke up together at a hut but I left a little before everyone else to try and get to Stag saddle (the highest point on the TA) to take some pictures. As I ventured up alone, the wind grew increasingly stronger, completely knocking me over at times. It wasn't until the rain started that I thought about turning back to the hut. A huge gust of wind came through and knocked me into a creek, where I got up and hiked back for about five minutes before I got another bout of confidence and headed back up the saddle. The wind and rain only got worse and it grew immensely colder as I climbed. The rain felt like icicles whipping my skin. I was afraid. I turned back to see if the group had followed me up or if they had followed their senses and stayed put at the hut. I was incredibly relieved to see them climbing up after me but I was unable to wait for them due to the cold. I made it to the saddle and tried to take my camera out for some pictures but my hands could no longer move. I decided to head down as soon as possible. I ran down as much as I could until I no longer saw any trail markers. It wasn't getting any warmer. I stopped and looked around, I didn't see any trail markers or my friends. I couldn't get out my GPS to find the trail because my hands wouldn't move and the only bit of warmth I felt was the hot blood rushing out of my bare feet. I started to panic. Within an hour I would be hypothermic and I wouldn't be able to recover unless I got off the ridge. I stumbled around for another 15 minutes before I saw a person on the horizon and realized my mistake. I ran back to the trail and followed them down until we could all stop long enough to talk without the wind whipping around. As we sat, the sun came out and the clouds cleared, making way for an incredibly gorgeous day. We laughed that no one would believe what we had just been through. We made it down to a hut where we warmed up and ran into some friends. My only thought was what a difference a little bit of sunshine can do. The next day we jumped up and got into town after one of our coldest mornings on trail. Headed back out tonight, hoping the cold front is over. 2385 kilometers