photographer CRAIG SEARLE
Deep in the heart of the Walls of Jerusalem National Park, off the beaten track and hidden from plain sight, there is a small, nondescript, A-frame hut. Its existence is known to many but the story behind it and its enigmatic builder is part of the folklore of Tasmanian bushwalking.
The Walls of Jerusalem is my favourite place. Since my first visit in 1980, it has been my go-to location for a relaxing bushwalk, when I want to re-connect with the wilderness or when I want some time alone to deal with the stresses of life.
It was in the early 2000s that I first heard about a hut hidden in the Walls that had been built and lived in during the 1980s by someone known only as Solitary Man. Details were scant, but a friend of a friend had some idea where it was and – armed with some very dodgy directions – I determined to pay it a visit.
In March 2008, my wife Debbie and I headed in to look for this mystery hut. After several hours walking and searching, and in fading light, we found ourselves on the shores of Tiger Lake, and about to give up. I was pretty sure we were close, but it looked like being a fruitless day.
Then the setting sun reflected off something in the trees. It was the roofline of a hut, beautifully hidden amongst the snow gums.
Walking through the door of this enchanted place, with its gumtree-coloured roofing iron aiding its camouflage, was quite a moment. We felt like home invaders. Standing quietly inside the door and letting our eyes explore, there was a sense of wonder, excitement and curiosity.
The hut was small – a single room. The floor had been paved with local rock, and there was a table, a fireplace and a mezzanine floor suspended from the roof which obviously was the sleeping platform. It looked for all the world like its owner had left that morning, intending to return.
Evidence of this character who called himself the Solitary Man was everywhere. He had left his sleeping bag, pack, maps, coat, fishing rod and home-made snow shoes. Adding to the surreal atmosphere was a weight bar and weights in the corner.
An entry on the cover of a logbook on the table, and a neatly written sign near the fireplace, both penned by Solitary Man, revealed some of the story. “This hut was built in 1983. My age at the time was 33 years. I lived in this hut from Jan 1984 to July 1985. Anyone finding this hut may use the hut and contents but cart all rubbish back out with you – Solitary Man.”
Over the next few years I visited the solitary hut many times with friends and family, each time enjoying the sense of wonder they experienced when we arrived at the door. I discovered that, while many walkers had heard of the hut, no-one seemed to know the identity of Solitary Man.
A journalist friend visited the hut with me. His sense of a good story and willingness to dig for it was a catalyst. We agreed to try to find Solitary Man.
We did so, but it took some luck.
In 2012, I was running a school camp and the weather had kept us indoors for a few days. To stave off cabin fever, I decided to run a picture show and as I was flicking through some photos of places I had walked to around Tasmania, I came to a picture of Solitary Man’s Hut. When I had finished explaining to the students the story as I knew it, one of the teachers on the camp whispered in my ear, “I know that bloke and he has promised to take me in to show me his hut.”
And so I got to meet the man himself. He agreed to allow me to tell his story, but with one inviolable condition: his anonymity was to be maintained and protected.
I readily agreed, and a few months later I found myself driving into the carpark of the Walls of Jerusalem, with Solitary Man and his teacher friend alongside me in the car.
We spent that night sitting in the hut listening to the man himself tell his story, in a quiet, modest, matter-of-fact way. It was a privilege to be in the hut that had so fascinated me, alongside a man who had achieved legendary status amongst Tasmanian bushwalkers.
I asked him about the weight equipment sitting in the corner. He smiled as he explained, “The weights, I guess, have a lot of people worried. I used to be a competitive weightlifter for 10 years when I was younger. I was also a competitive long distance runner, from five kilometres to the marathon. To beat a bit of boredom at times I used to lift some weights and go for a run up the different valleys in the area. I thought it was probably a good idea to be fit and healthy living on your own in a remote place like this.”
Towards the end of the evening I suggested to him that he should write a book; that every bushwalker in Tasmania and indeed Australia would love to read his story. He just shook his head and quietly explained that he valued his privacy too much, that his motivation from the outset had been to test himself, not to gain publicity.
He was not convinced that anybody would be interested in his story.
When we were walking out the next day, we met a party of walkers on their way in. We stopped for the usual chat and the party leader explained that he was taking his friends in to see Solitary Man’s hut, that they were all fascinated by it and wanted to see it for themselves.
“He must have been an amazing man,” one of the party observed. Solitary Man stood quietly, off to one side, head down, with just the hint of a smile on his face. We kept his secret.
Solitary Man has repeatedly backed away from requests for his identity to be made public, preferring anonymity to the limelight. He last visited his hut in February 2021, aged 72. I asked him how he found the walk in. “I’m still going OK but I looked over my shoulder at the hut as I left and wondered if it may have been my last trip.”
At a time when more and more people seem to crave publicity, indeed when many engage in activities seemingly for the sole purpose of posting them on social media, it is gratifying to know that there exists a man who prefers to remain in the background and who lets his actions speak for themselves.
I thank him for permission to publish this story and photographs.
