"I swear to god: if we come up on the ewoks village, I'm going to loose it."
The next two hour or so passed without incident as he tried to keep a lookout for not just the strange, but the familiar as well. Signs of local German flora or fauna, even an oak leaf or chipmunk would be of some reassurance. Then came the fence, he was an army brat and a city-kid so he had no bearing on fences beyond picket-iron-chainlink. But this proved to have both benefits and drawbacks.
Assuming the best case scenario for them, it would be n abandoned dwelling with perhaps some sort of writing and food samples for the science teams to comb over with a fine toothed comb. An abandoned house would also give them a rest point and forward position of shelter against whatever this world might bring. Even a turtle-shell roof against deadly meteor showers. The other chance is to make fist contact with cannibal hobbits who want them to stay for dinner.

"Sir, logic would dictate that this area is corded off for a reason, that means civilized tool using people. Our chances of encountering fauna and [i]local natives that are capable of thought and reasoning[/i] goes up exponentially. This fence could be one, ten, or a hundred years old."
He looked to the others in the group for their support or at least to get a read on their faces. He saw the medic having carried so much extra gear to keep them alive, a twinge of guilt struck him. That guilt became an idea to force a break on the group to reconsider following the fence.
"Snider. We're halfway there, do you want me to take some off your back for the next leg?"