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Renata - Alpha Crossing, April, 1964. (A weekend trip.)

Scene One: Wellington Railway Station.

Time: Friday evening, one minute before the train is due to leave.

Enter at the run, greatly laden with pack etc., sweating profusely and gasping hoarsely, a tramper. No sign of other trampers.

Scene Two: Same as Scene One, ten Minutes After.

Enter two more trampers, one the leader, slowly, sedately, unhurried.

Leader: "Our train leaves in ten minutes".

Roar of rage from first tramper.

Scene Three: Cloustonville, about 12 miles from Upper Hutt on the Akatarawa Road. The noise of the taxi fades into the distance.

Three trampers stand cold, unsure. It happens that the first tramper is the only one who has been in the region before, so he immediately swaggers, confident, drunk with power!!! However torches are out and the trio set off up the Sawmill Road which leads to Frances Creek. Here there is a choice of route. You may either follow Frances Creek for about an hour till you come to a large red disc, whereupon you take off straight up the Maymorn Ridge to your right (there's a track of sorts). Or you can keep following the road which turns up the Ridge taking the left fork when you come to it. Follow this road to the top and the well disced track starts where the road stops. It sounds very confusing but really it's quite simple. As the way via Frances Creek was reputedly the quicker, away we went not wasting any time because Hughie threatened. "We'll be at Renata Hut in two hours" said Nick. An hour passed, ninety minutes. No sign of the disc which marked the turn off. Hughie materialized, on with parkas. Finally the leader said "There's no disc. To hell with it! Up we go!" Up we went, straight up the side of the Maymorn Ridge. Over logs through thickets of scrub, fighting all the way. It was raining hard now, after about an hour we roached the top but we were hardly any better off. Some years ago there was much logging activity on the Maymorn Ridge and besides the arterial road which passes along the top many and varied are the roads which run up and down the sides and it was into this town-planners nightmare that we stumbled. As it was raining and dark our efforts to decipher this maze were doomed, and after about an hour or so of trying to find the start of the discs we gave up and slung our sleeping bags under a log.

Saturday dawned glistening with damp cobwebs and cold. We breakfasted on banana and chocolate biscuits, rung out our clothes, shouldered packs and set off. Daylight, dismal as it was, three an altogether encouraging light on the situation and we found the track skilfully hidden by two logs. Two hours easy tramping brought us to Renata Hut. We decided to spend Saturday drying ourselves and our gear rather than rushing to Alpha. So an immense fire was lit and set about satisfying the inner man.

On Sunday it was suggested that we make something out of the trip by going out over Kapakapanui. Little did we know what was in store for us. About half an hour from Renata Hut the Odlins & Co. logging road crosses the ridge on the way from Akatarawa to the Southern Waiatouru. This was new to us so we set off down it to see what it was all about.

"We'll only go to the next bend" said Nick but we soon found ourselves at the bottom which was a scene of dormant activity, page break with bulldozers, logs and mud. Here we swung the billy and set off up the road again. It was 2.30 p. m. when we reached the top.

Now from this point on over Kapakapanui there is a track marked on the map but not on the ground. The going became increasingly difficult as we bush-bashed along the ridge. Our way often became blocked by large expanses of bush lawyer which necessitated our dropping right off the ridge to get round them, and we could see that we would be hard pressed to reach Waikanae before dark.

Then the climb up Kapakapanui started. The party was beginning to feel the strain and it was hard slog to the top. At last we made it and our efforts were rewarded by a magnificent sunset.

But we still had more than 3,600 ft. to descent and no light apart from torches. Through the snow grass and into the bush, We searched in vain for the track but a few rusty discs were all we could find. We followed these as long as we could making our own track but by about 8 p. m. we were ready to give up. We were still on the ridge as far as we knew, but we weren't on anything like a track and in fact we had hardly made any progress down at all. Another night under the stars was called for, fortunately it had been fine all day. We ate the last of Helen's biscuits for dinner (three each) and turned in.

Monday dawned a beautiful day. We breakfasted on one barley sugar each and set off. The way was only slightly easier in daylight and it was nearly eleven a. m. before we reached the Ngatiawa Stream, the first water we had drunk for 22 hours. We stopped at a farm for Andy to send a 'phone call through to his folks to assure them of the safety of the party. We then took a taxi and bus to Wellington arriving about 2 p. m. An extremely eventful but also enjoyable week-end. A.J.

Party: Nick Bullock, Helen Henderson, Andy Jackson.