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Psycho Crossing
 

21 January 2025

Words & Photos: Emma Bateup

When Jacob first mentioned his idea for the Psycho Crossing to me, I wanted in immediately. Riding to the Tararua Southern Crossing, carrying the bikes on the crossing, and riding home. It sounded right up my alley.

As the trip drew closer, I started worrying about being able to keep up. There was going to be a lot of time on foot, especially going downhill, which my uncoordinated feet aren't great at. I wished I'd done some recent practice walking with a heavy pack, but it was too late for that now. Our team lost a few members in the final week and by the time Friday rolled around it was down to three: Jacob, Karsten and I meeting at 6pm, excited and nervous.

We rolled out on the bikes. Jacob set a good pace up and over to Porirua where we stopped for dinner, agreeing that maybe we'd slow down a tad. We made our way up the coast as darkness fell, enjoying the smooth cycleways before turning towards Otaki Forks. The ruru were out in force, Jacob chatted back. I tried to, unsuccessfully.

We reached the trail around midnight and set about dismantling and attaching our bikes to our backpacks. At the time we (I) teased Karsten for taking longer to pack everything up. But it quickly became apparent that his setup was pretty bombproof and ours required tinkering with well into the next day.

We set off up the hill. My calves were instantly sore, walking with weight was harder than I remembered, and I realised how much slower than the others I was on foot. I made sure I ate heaps of snacks, knowing that my endurance would keep me going, it just wouldn't make me fast.

Jacob stopped a few times to change how his bike was strapped on, so I took the opportunity to get ahead. Unfortunately, this meant clearing all the cobwebs across the trail with my face. On the few downhill sections of trail, I was tripping on the bottom of my bike, but with the trail mostly climbing I decided to leave a change in position for the next morning.

We reached Field hut after a couple of hours and stood outside talking quietly as we unpacked, as to not wake anyone up. After what seemed like ages, we thought to actually check to see if it was occupied. Upon finding it empty, we moved our gear inside and brought our voices back up to normal level.

We pulled out sleeping gear and set up for a few hours of kip. Karsten and I had opted for the comfort of sleeping bags. But to save on space, Jacob had committed to just an emergency bivvy bag, more akin to a crisp packet than a piece of sleeping kit. We'd been joking about waking everyone up with the crinkle of the bag, but now it was time to experience it for ourselves. Good thing there wasn't anyone else in the hut. I was warm enough, but the racket from Jacob shuffling around kept me from a proper sleep.

The alarms went off after nowhere near enough rest time. I sat in my sleeping bag cold and tired while the guys got up and started packing. Eventually I made my way out of bed, getting moving made me feel better. We set off up towards the bushline and were treated with a rising sun once we got out into the open. It wasn't long before the cloud rolled in and we all started getting cold, layering up to get to Kime Hut.


Photo: Karsten Lorentz

We arrived to another empty hut and enjoyed/didn't enjoy a cold dehy breakfast, I don't think it would have been any better heated though. More layers were put on, by now I was a wearing everything I'd brought, including my puffer jacket. After leaving I warmed up very quickly and soon regretted the puffer. The following hours provided some stunning landscapes as we walked along the ridge line, over Mt Hector. The cloud was hanging around, but we still managed to get a few views. What I thought was part of Wellington Harbour was actually Kapiti Island. The ridge line seemed to go on forever, but eventually we started descending off Alpha, hitting the bushline again, and coming across the hut soon after.

Reaching Alpha Hut made it feel like we were nearly done, despite only being about halfway through. We made the most of the hut, having a reset before the final section. Grateful for Jacob’s decision to bring a cooker we enjoyed a hot meal whilst he had a nap - his lack of sleeping bag had made it too cold to sleep during the night.

I had walked the remaining section of the Dress Circle Track a few years ago and remembered the trail down from the hut and up to Marchant Ridge being far quicker than it was. My legs were protesting with the steep downhills, but after a while along the ridge I started finding a new groove, feeling more confident. Although it required heaps of concentration, I felt like I was keeping up better. I’d also given up caring about trying to skirt around the many boggy bits ot trail and went full savage mode boosting through the middle, with varying success. There were plenty of giggles when I’d discover a deep one, and end up in mud to my knees.

We knew that our friend Sam was coming in to meet us and when we bumped into him with 9 kms to go it was a massive boost. We started on the downhill off the ridge, and it wasn’t long before I had a meltdown after a triggering song started playing through my headphones. That downhill dragged, darkness fell and my knees screamed in pain. Once I started recognising the terrain leading to the next turn off I became focused again, forgetting the pain and keeping a better pace up. After a while I slowed back down and had to stop for another cry, eat, and then resume my focus.


Photo: Karsten Lorentz

Both Jacob and I were pretty broken by this point, Karsten seemed to be absolutely fine. We split into two groups somewhere along here, with Sam keeping my spirits up for the final few k’s along and down the last descent. The slick clay surface slowed us and there were some savage steps in there too. I managed to stay upright and was ecstatic to emerge out into the Kaitoke Carpark before midnight.

I’d thought there’d be some tears of relief but I had obviously used them all up. Jacob and Karsten soon joined us, and we got our bikes built back up as the rain set in. It was decided that being midnight would work in our favour for empty roads, so we rolled along the main road to the Z servo in Upper Hutt.


Photo: Sam Ritchie

Photo: Karsten Lorentz

It was great to take weight off my back and use the legs in a more familiar way, but I was very aware that I hadn’t eaten much for a while. A pie from the Z sounded ideal. They were out of hot food, so water bottles were filled, and I made do with a stroopwafel to get me to the finish. After a funny interaction with a local we got back rolling, taking the most direct way home. Thankfully the rain had eased off and with Sam sitting on the front it was a speedy trip back into the city. I got home at 2am, had a shower and was asleep immediately.

All in all, 150 km cycling, 40 km tramping while carrying a bike, and around 4000m of elevation. Just under 29 hours for the full loop, only a third of which was mildly unpleasant – I’d call that a win.

We all agreed that we wouldn’t do it again, but I’ve since learnt that there is also a Northern Crossing of the Tararuas. Might have to put in some more time on foot first.

6 Responses

Richard C
Richard C

23 January 2025

Epic mission Emma :-). FYI the northern end is much more rugged – talk to Liz and Ed – it’s their playground :-)

Ruth Murphy
Ruth Murphy

22 January 2025

OMG Emma! I dislocated my shoulder on the Southern Crossing a year ago without a bike on my back :-)

Allan
Allan

22 January 2025

(and Karsten)

Allan
Allan

22 January 2025

I love Kiwis – they are forever doing crazy wonderful things like this.
Good for you Emma and Jacob.

GoldCard Gal
GoldCard Gal

22 January 2025

Great adventure and great read, thank you for writing it up & sharing. :)

Lyndon
Lyndon

22 January 2025

Absolutely stupid idea – I LOVE it. Well done and a great write up.

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