(Lawful) Breaking and Entering

Text taken from the club newsletter.

(Lawful) Breaking and Entering

Sam Harrison | 29 Mar 2026 | Remutaka Forest Park

After a reschedule due to rain, Daniel was lining up his fourth attempt to get to Pāua Hut. A group aiming to climb Mt Matthews led by Nicole and Ellis had gone in on Friday, hauling a BBQ no less. At 6.34am on Saturday I got the following message from Daniel:

Hi all, we are likely having a slight change in plans. The group that went in last night could not get the padlock into Pāua Hut to unlock. I’m waiting to hear an update if they had any better luck this morning.

We will likely tramp directly into the Hut via the easier Orongorongo track and attempt to get into the Hut (for example cooking oil may help loosen the padlock etc). Once/if we’re in the hut, we can do an afternoon river walk. All going well today we’ll do everything except McKerrow.

I’m planning to bring my 2-person tent just in case we can’t get into the hut. Sam you might want to bring your tent too.

Absolute worse case scenario is we can’t get into the hut and have an afternoon cook up and some people walk back to the road tonight.

Apologies for the bizarre turn of events! See you at 9.30 at the Railway Station.

This set us up for what turned out to be a rather memorable turn of events. In what might be a WTMC first we stopped at Bunnings on the way to the Orongorongo carpark to purchase a pair of bolt cutters. Niamh had already packed some CRC. We had the fool’s confidence of a group of people who had never broken into anything before.

At the carpark we ran into the easy group. They piled out of the club van and were busy getting themselves ready for the big walk into Paua. We left them to it and our merry band of four departed for the valley. It had rained the day before but the valley track was in excellent condition, a highway for these would-be robbers.

When we passed the McKerrow Track turnoff I darted off into the bush, much to the confusion of the other three. Calling for them to follow me, we headed down a worn but discrete bush track that brought us to Hut 37 (Mac’s Hut). This was a simple structure built by Forest Service employees some 50 odd years ago as a base in the Orongorongo. Daniel was pleased to bag another hut. From Mac’s I took the group down behind the hut, revealing my true intention. Shortcut! A steep track took us down into the valley, depositing us just upriver from Boar Inn.

The rain the night before had brought the river up a little, but only enough to tickle at our knees. We headed downriver under grey skies.

After an hour and a half we climbed the 4WD track to the terrace above the river that hosts Pāua Hut. Tents filled the clearings under the trees, packs piled under the hut’s lean-to. Nicole and Ellis’ group were nowhere to be seen, presumably they were already halfway up Mt Matthews by now. Giddy with excitement, Daniel and I approached the padlock that sealed the hut. What followed was an hour of hilarity and frustration. We pumped the thing full of so much CRC that the key dripped and rotated 360 degrees. This did not open it. Neither did we have the strength to actually cut the lock, our $20 Bunnings bolt cutters proving completely inadequate.

In the end we resorted to brute force, slamming the ineffective bolt cutters at the padlock until the barrel fell out. This enabled us to use Nicole’s titanium spork to turn the mechanism and open the door. Huzzah! With the hut open we opted to laze around and wait for the other groups to show up.

First came the easy group, followed by the Mt Matthewers. The hut’s surroundings were full of activity as people worked out where they were going to sleep. The table inside the hut was pilled high with nacho ingredients.

I tried to convince Daniel that a walk up to Tapokopoko would be fun. He was not convinced. Instead a group of us went on a little hīkoi downriver to find the two huts that are nestled off the 4WD track. This achieved, we returned to the hut for a swim in the afternoon sun.

After our swim it was time for the night’s festivities to begin. The interior of the hut became a hive of activity, pots bubbling on cookers and a mountain of cheese being grated on the table. Outside Bryan and Anna manned the new BBQ, sausages sizzling on the gas.

This feast of nachoes and sausages was delicious, a true tramping culinary feat. We ate overlooking the river, tummies happy. Following dinner we prepared for what I felt was the main event, the fire! A group of scouts had arrived on the terrace below the hut where the main fire pit was, so we scouted (no pun intended) out another place where we could construct one. Stones were hauled and wood was dragged until we had a cosy little circle constructed.

We got this blazing and as the smoke wafted over camp punters began to emerge from the forest to join our little party. Marshmallows came out and soon the smell of burnt sugar filled the air.

Nicole had prepared some of her legendary brownie for us. It was a miracle this had made it as far as the valley given Ellis’ predisposition to them.

Soon darkness descended over our merry little group, the flickering amber light of the fire dimly illuminating smiling faces around the circle. One by one people began to trickle off to bed. With the night dying down we extinguished our fire, picked up our things and headed for our sleeping bags.

The following morning punters slowly started to drift into the hut as they smelt the plunger of coffee I had brewing. Tents were packed up and we all prepared for departure, an unwanted return back to civilisation.

The sun shone warmly on us as we ventured back to the car. It had been an excellent weekend. A chance to spend time with friends, new and old, around the crackle of a campfire. It gave me a newfound appreciation for our little club hut. So close to the city yet mentally a world away. I can’t wait for my next opportunity to go back.