NSW Nordic Ski Club
Bolton's - Gotcha
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The article in the September 1990 edition of Kick and Glide caught my eye. It explained how Ian Wolfe had embarked on an excursion of discovery to find the elusive Bolton's Hut which, it seems, had picked up its foundations and gone walkabout. According to the CMA Mount Kosciusko 1:50,000 map Bolton's is located at GR 298 811. What Ian and his intrepid party found was a pleasant lunch site near the Finn River, minus the hut. I determined to try to track down the disappearing dwelling and solve the mystery of the hut that got away.
Klaus Heuneke in Huts of the High Country describes the hut thus:
"the most primitive stockmen's hut in the mountains. A simple vertical slab building, Bolton's has no windows, a dirt floor and is without creature comforts like a bunk or table. Today's hut is built on the site of an old hut that could have been built last century. The new hut must have been built between January and April in 1941."
"in 1975 the only things visible were the four corner posts and the iron roof; all the bottom plates had rotted and the slabs lay on the ground. We replaced the bottom plates with large flat rocks and in no time had the slabs back in place. The fit is not perfect and the hut has plenty of natural air-conditioning but I suspect it was never much better, even in 1941."
This was the edifice that we were to track down.
Like Ian, I was thwarted by the elements for a couple of years, but the signs early in the 1995 season were auspicious. By a week before the planned trip they were decidedly inauspicious, but then the heatwave-breaking snowfalls of early September occurred and guaranteed sufficient snow for the trip.
The party of five gathered at Munyang on Saturday morning and were away early. The day was perfect after some overnight snow, then rain. The snow, although being skiable after just a couple of hundred metres elevation gain up Disappointment Spur, was far less than perfect. In fact, it was the gooiest, most gelatinous snow I have encountered since skiing "Sierra Cement" in the Sierra Nevada a few years ago. It stayed that way for the whole weekend but this did not deter our band of hut-hunters. Up, up into the beckoning blue we plodded, through Gungarten Pass then pushed ourselves downhill to a late lunch at Tin Hut. This hut is claimed to accompany the highest dunny in Australia. Whatever its altitude, it could have been about ten feet higher; this would have enabled entry without the need for an abseil down through the snow to get to floor level.
At Tin Hut we met Chris, who asked if we realised that Bolton's Hut was not in the marked spot. We replied that yes, we knew where it is not, but we did not know where it is. Chris volunteered its location on the map by covering about two square kilometres with a stubby finger and saying "its there". The problem was, this was a little away from where its location is suggested by Huts of the High Country and the Kosciusko Huts Association. Chris was not able to nominate the grid reference he was trying to finger - he has been there so many times he just knows where to go, without bothering with maps. He also suggested that the position shown on the CMA map is that of the original hut and that the "new" hut was built on a different spot, which accounts for its apparent wandering ways. At least this gave some encouragement that we would not have to actually chase the hut through the snow as it tried to sneak away on detecting our approach.
After lunch we pushed on over Mount Porcupine and into the headwaters of Farm Creek. An earlier plan to ski along Bar Ridge was abandoned in favour of skiing along the creek, as the timber on the ridge looked rather thick and the snow cover thin. An exciting descent into the creek was punctuated by occasional head plants in the gooey snow but we eventually made it to the flats. Having been told by Chris at Tin Hut that Farm Creek was a little rocky just before the hut, we left the creek at the bend at 305 822 with the intention of skiing over the ridge and down to the hut. This discounted my famous capacity to encounter scrub where more sensible people fear to tread. Well - we had skied around 20 km, a short walk presented a welcome change in the means of locomotion. The next time I would still go over the ridge but somewhat closer to Farm Creek, as the timber is less dense close to the creek. The line of approach was however intended to cross the path of the hut. Just as I was thinking that it might be somewhere close by if it were indeed in the location nominated by Huts of the High Country, I almost skied right into it. Perhaps our unusual point of approach caught it unawares, not giving it the chance to race off and hide.
What we found was a really delightful hut - that is provided luxuries like wooden floors, benches, bunks and the like are not high on your list of priorities. The hut is about 2½ metres wide and 3½ metres long, not counting the fireplace. Because of its relative isolation there is plenty of dead wood around the hut, and the fireplace works well. There were half a dozen cut logs for stools and the usual useful hut hardware; old rabbit traps, old bottles with burnt-out candles, bits of wire and an old jumper. You would not want to sleep in the hut unless in a dire emergency because the floor is somewhat damp, but the airiness mentioned by Klaus Heuneke was not particularly evident. Perhaps we had had too recent an encounter with Teddy's and Cesjacks huts to be disappointed at the air conditioning. You do have to keep the door open if you want any natural light.
None of this worried us as we pitched our tents nearby and were treated to one of the most agreeable nights I have spent in the mountains. Absolute stillness, together with a clear sky and full moon, made it a night to cherish. All that was missing was good snow on which to ski on in the moonlight. That would have made it perfect.
On the return journey we took a more direct route than on the outward leg and skied up the Finn River. The going was a little slow because of thin snow cover near the river, but we pressed on steadily and caught up with our outward tracks near Gungarten Pass. By now some wind and cloud had arrived and, surprise surprise, the Rolling grounds were in whiteout! Still, to get home from there was a mere formality as, alternating flowing poleplant and headplant, we pushed our way downhill through the goo, now somewhat diminished from the previous day.
As for Bolton's Hut, it was last seen lurking on a small scenic saddle at around 303 810. But don't count on it staying there until next you are in the vicinity. May it be free to forever roam around the lower reaches of the Finn River and give shelter to those who are fortunate enough to have it cross their path.
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