Epic Hikes of the World ( PDFDrive )

clearing. Echoes of long-gone mountain cattlemen and their horses resonate from
the now-dilapidated structure, until I look up from my cheese and crackers to find
I’m surrounded by horse-trekking tourists. I quickly seek solitude in the steep climb
to Weston Hut.
© Ashley Whitworth | Alamy
Cape Hut
Flanking the High Plains, just inside the treeline, the original Weston Hut was
constructed by cattlemen in the 1930s, and nearby, horse yards are still visible. It
escaped the awful 2003 fires, but was reduced to cinders in 2006. Volunteers
erected the present structure in 2011. The grassy surrounds make a pleasant
campsite, and the hut offers refuge from the notorious High Plains weather.
The snow gums give way to tussock, brumby dung and alpine grasses as I
ascend a snow-pole line on to the plateau. There’s a stark, desolate beauty about
this barren high country that stretches for miles in all directions. I push on to a track
junction, pole 333. A set of numbered snow poles spike in from the south like
abandoned telegraph poles – from Mt Hotham, they cross the Cobungra Gap and
count the way to Bogong. Another set disappear northwest over my left shoulder,
on to the Fainters, but I focus on the string beckoning forwards. In the melancholy
late-afternoon sun, all is still, empty, not another soul to be seen.