Recently, the people of Ranfurly have complained about the road sign Bypass Rd which encourages travellers to give their town a miss.
But Ranfurlians should be aware that there's another road sign which is causing great distress to another group of Maniototo residents, the citizens of Fatigue.
It's a settlement you've probably never heard of, but Fatigue has been on the warpath!
And there have been developments, revealed for the first time in this column.
Briefly (Monday, February 9, 1863, to lunchtime on Friday May 22, 1863, to be exact) Fatigue was a booming gold town.
In those short months the escort carted off thousands of ounces of gold and the miners probably spent as much in the 23 pubs which lined the street.
More than 5000 people thronged the lantern-lit street at night time fighting, shouting, cursing and carousing their way through to the small hours.
Just like the Octagon.
Mick Tigue was an Irish miner who gave his name to the settlement.
He was the first on the field and when newcomers asked how much he was making, he invariably replied, ''Sweet F.A.'' and before long he was known far and wide as F. A. Tigue.
Naturally, this was the name he painted over the door of the hotel he opened and soon ''Fatigue'' was used as a jocular place name.
Before long it became the accepted title of the township.
These days, his great-grandson, sheep farmer Brian Tigue, is the unofficial ''mayor'' of the town and he led the charge against road signs which recently appeared in the district.
''Avoid fatigue. Visit Ranfurly'' they say.
Well, that's not on in Brian's book.
''Look, I've nothing against Ranfurly but, for heaven's sake, it's not even a gold town! Just a railway town. Now Fatigue's full of gold history. That's what visitors want. Not an old railway station. And yet, they're being told to avoid a great little gold town. It's not on!''
Historically, of course, Mr Tigue's complaint has much going for it.
Fatigue's history is yet to be written but in the meantime the three oldest residents have been busy making up legends, odd yarns about odd people and funny stories about what might have happened.
All this ready for the day when some gullible townie comes along and offers to write Fatigue's history.
''It'll be ready for him,'' chortles 93-year-old Barney Tigue, ''and it'll make Ranfurly look pretty boring, I can tell you.''
In the meantime, a petition was circulated demanding that the offensive sign be removed and replaced with ''See the Real Central. Give Ranfurly a Miss''.
Naturally, this has caused a furore in Ranfurly which had forgotten that Fatigue even existed.
''At least you can get a cup of coffee and use the public toilet in Ranfurly. In Fatigue you might slurp a drink of water from the horse trough and then go behind the bushes. Tourists don't want that.''
Most tellingly, say the Ranfurlians, they never put the damn sign up anyway.
Some research has revealed that the sign is actually a road safety message put up by one or other of the organisations which go in for that sort of thing.
They say they'd never heard of a town called Fatigue.
''You're having me on!'' was the response of their media adviser.
He was assured that the town existed and that it had a road through it so perhaps he needed to brush up on his geographical knowledge.
He called back.
''I've looked it up. You mean 'Wheru'. It's the Maori word for 'tired'.''
Mick Tigue would have none of it.
''No-one calls it that here. It's 'Fatigue' and that's that. We don't need Maori names stuck on the map by North Island know-nothings.''
From the public meeting in a packed woolshed just out of Fatigue came a resolution that the sign be removed altogether if the ''Give Ranfurly a Miss'' suggestion was not going to be followed.
From a packed meeting in the hall at Ranfurly came a resolution the people of Fatigue should go and boil their heads.
A civil war seemed to be looming.
Then, as so often happens in the country, the two sworn enemies buried their differences by uniting against a common enemy.
Naseby, it seems, was planning a campaign which would urge motorists to bypass the Ranfurly area altogether and instead travel to Naseby as they passed through Maniototo.
''See the Real Maniototo - Avoid Fatigue, Forget Ranfurly, Came to Historic Naseby.''
However, the whole drama was resolved in a way which says much for the practical approach most Central Otago people bring to life.
Wood is scarce on the plain, so when they needed fuel for the cricket club barbecue a collection of road signs was just the thing.
Now, with no road signs at all, there's nothing to fight over and the locals are back to their old friendly ways.
Mind you, many motorists can be found heading down to the Styx thinking they are on their way to Dunedin airport.
But they were doing that when the signs were there, anyway.
• Jim Sullivan is a Dunedin writer and broadcaster.
