Camping in the Stockmen’s Hut at Beda

I camped one night in the tent, near the sheep yards and crutching shed at Beda.

A couple of sheets of iron over the bike kept it fairly dry.

The morning dawned overcast, so apart from a few photographs as the sun rose over the horizon, and below the cloud cover, it wasn’t much good for my main purpose.

So I had a feed and went for an exploritary ride. Among my discoveries was an abandoned stockmen’s hut.

Around mid morning, the drizzle started. At first I ignored it. Then, as I viewed Dutton Bluff, a few kilometres away to the west, it became obvious that it was raining out there and coming my way.

Nothing like a good feed of veggies cooked on the Metters Adelaide stove to brighten up the mood and fill a void.

Wheeling the bike around, I headed for my camp and packed up wet, as best I could, then headed for the old stockmen’s hut.

Possibly one of the more modern of the huts that I’ve seen out in this country, it has a concrete floor, a frame of bush poles with sawn timber for the roof. The cladding and roof are corrugated iron and the chimney is flat iron.

Half of one side of the gable roof is missing with one sheet missing from one end of the other side. Fortunately the weather was coming from the good side.

The joints in the bed head were gone so I tied the bed to the pole.

I moved an old bed to the dry side of the hut. It had seen better days so I tied it to a pole so it wouldn’t collapse in the night.

The wood stove also, had seen better days. Two of the three rings were missing. I found an old mudguard off a trailer to cover the holes and keep the smoke down tolerably.

It was a pleasure to warm up the hut a bit, dry out my coat and cook a feed in the welcome shelter.

Of course, I had no axe. Sticks can be broken short but decent sized firewood mostly had to be put in whole.

Myall is great firewood. It burns hot and gives good coals.

Having cleared up in the late afternoon, there was another short, sharp shower in the night, but I was snug and dry, appreciating the simple old building that, years ago, would have been home to a couple of stockmen or maybe a man and his family.

Well, I don’t know how to explain this: Some old huts have a warm feeling, while others give me the creeps. The old stockmen’s hut at Beda felt so warm and inviting.

Between the rafters, the southern cross added to the comforting feeling of the old stockmen’s hut, the interior lit by the glow from the fire.

I sat on my box in front of the fire with only the glow from the wood stove for light, and felt good.

From my bed, snuggled down in my sleeping bag, I could look out through the gaping hole in the roof and see the stars. The Southern Cross stood out between the rafters, at the edge of the Milky Way.

This old stockmen’s hut was home for two nights.