The Joyce Brockhoff Hut
Posted: Wed Aug 03, 2016 7:56 pm
Last month I had the good fortune to visit Mount Hotham for a few days with my son and daughter. The highlight of the trip - at least for me - was the lunch we ate at the Joyce Brockhoff Hut.
The Joyce Brockhoff Hut
Built to hail the memory of one who loved the snow,
Who skied these slopes for years before the advent of a tow
That took the brutish puff and grunt away from downhill skiing:
Joyce Brockhoff was a joyful, skilled, courageous human being.
Mary’s Slide, the Orchard, and the high ridge out to Loch,
She graced them all with flashing ski and boldly planted stock.
How often, in the sunshine, after pulling out all stops,
She’d pause for lunch beside the slope, and grill some tasty chops!
She died in forty seven, but her husband wished to see
Her legacy remembered in the hearts of all who ski;
He dreamed a dream – a modest hut, a snowbound lunchtime shelter,
For those, like Joyce, who spent their days on steep slopes, helter skelter.
So now it sits upon a ridge, with snow gums all around.
In winter, snow lies heavy, like a blanket on the ground;
Deep down Swindlers Valley and then high the other side,
The view is most expansive, and the peace is deep and wide.
Joyce Brockhoff is remembered. Though the details of her life
Might not be very clear as you wrestle with your knife,
Slicing slabs of meat and cheese for biscuits in a row,
Her spirit’s there beside you as you gaze out at the snow!
© Stephen Whiteside 03.08.2016
The Joyce Brockhoff Hut
Built to hail the memory of one who loved the snow,
Who skied these slopes for years before the advent of a tow
That took the brutish puff and grunt away from downhill skiing:
Joyce Brockhoff was a joyful, skilled, courageous human being.
Mary’s Slide, the Orchard, and the high ridge out to Loch,
She graced them all with flashing ski and boldly planted stock.
How often, in the sunshine, after pulling out all stops,
She’d pause for lunch beside the slope, and grill some tasty chops!
She died in forty seven, but her husband wished to see
Her legacy remembered in the hearts of all who ski;
He dreamed a dream – a modest hut, a snowbound lunchtime shelter,
For those, like Joyce, who spent their days on steep slopes, helter skelter.
So now it sits upon a ridge, with snow gums all around.
In winter, snow lies heavy, like a blanket on the ground;
Deep down Swindlers Valley and then high the other side,
The view is most expansive, and the peace is deep and wide.
Joyce Brockhoff is remembered. Though the details of her life
Might not be very clear as you wrestle with your knife,
Slicing slabs of meat and cheese for biscuits in a row,
Her spirit’s there beside you as you gaze out at the snow!
© Stephen Whiteside 03.08.2016
