The first mentions of the Corotan Pass, where the shelter is located, date back to the 1st century AD. According to tradition, it was along this very route that Caesar and his legions crossed Alps on their way to conquer Gaul. In the Middle Ages, a trade route ran through here, used to transport anchovies from the south to the north and turbots from the north to the south of Europe.
The early 19th century saw the arrival of the first settlers at the pass – Swiss shepherds who built huts and grazed their cows on the southern alpine slopes. It was around that time, according to legend, that the famous long-aged Riccardo cheese was born. The story goes that a Spanish shepherd named Riccardo Bolden sought shelter in one of the caves in the Corotan massif and left behind a round of cow’s cheese. When he returned a few weeks later and scraped off the thick layer of mold, he discovered that the ordinary yellow cheese had transformed into an exceptionally creamy delicacy. From that point on, the area became renowned for producing one of the finest aged mountain cheeses, named in honor of the shepherd – Riccardo.
The first half of the 19th century brought a surge in interest in mountain tourism. There was growing demand for a refuge for travelers venturing along the alpine trails. The owner of the surrounding pastures at the time – the son of Riccardo Bolden (yes, the one from the cheese legend) – decided to build the first traveler’s lodge. After several months of hard work, a stone structure rose where the shepherds' huts once stood, ready to welcome its first guests. And thus began the touristic history of the Corotan Pass.
Photo: Construction of the first tourist base (Bolden Family Archives)
Throughout the second half of the 19th century, the shelter thrived. Bolden produced the local Riccardo cheese for visiting guests and offered refuge from bad weather. The place grew more popular with each passing year, and soon the entire Bolden family became involved in running the shelter — the parents, three daughters, and a son who would eventually inherit it from his father. The next generation continued the family tradition, managing the shelter until a great catastrophe struck the region at the dawn of the 20th century.
Photo: Ruins of the tourist base after the 1902 avalanche (excerpt from “Corotan Zeitung”)
In 1902, the region witnessed the worst mountain tragedy in its history. A massive avalanche swept down from near the summit of Corotan, obliterating everything in its path — trails, roads, bridges, villages, and towns… and the shelter was not spared. The roaring mass of snow tore through the stone structure like a house of cards. Miraculously, no one staying at the shelter at the time lost their life — all had managed to take refuge in a cellar carved into the rock at the very last moment.
Photo: Expansion of the Corotan Pass Shelter (architectural documentation)
After the snow was cleared and the damage assessed, the family patriarch couldn’t recover from the tragedy. He passed away shortly after, heartbroken. Fortunately, his son and grandchildren refused to give in. They began rebuilding the shelter almost immediately. The new structure, made of lighter wooden materials, took years to complete. Gradually expanded with additional floors and rooms, it only reached its current form in the 1920s. The final touch — both architecturally and symbolically — was a slender-roofed turret, a landmark for alpinists climbing Corotan. From that moment on, the shelter entered the finest chapter of its history.
Photo: Corotan Pass Shelter, 1965 (Bolden Family Archives)
In the 1930s, the shelter was taken over by brothers Pedro and Nicolas — the youngest generation of the Bolden family. Energetic and forward-thinking, they expanded the site with a radio mast, a garage for heavy equipment, and modern upgrades to the shelter itself. The place was bursting at the seams, its popularity exceeding even the boldest expectations.
Toward the end of the decade, civil war broke out in Spain. Pedro, feeling a deep obligation to the land of his ancestors, returned to join the army. Not long after, the Second World War erupted, sealing the fate of the shelter. With tourism coming to a halt, a long period of stagnation began. Though there was a brief postwar revival, by the late 1950s, both the shelter and its caretaker, Nicolas Bolden, had faded into obscurity.
Until, that is, the fateful year of 1965 arrived...
— excerpt from “The Chronicle of the Corotan Massif”
Raymond Lyon