We drove right up the farm track and parked next to the field in which it lies. Reduced to an uncultivated patch in the distance, we didn't dare walk over the field to see it for fear of becoming caked in mud up to our knees. I noted that the farm on which it stand is called Lad barrow farm, which may be why it still exists: you wouldn't plough up the very thing your land was named after would you? Though big, from this distance it really is quite underwhelming, though its position on the highest land up here is stunning.

This is – or was – an absolute beauty. Ten metres longer than Belas Knap it shows signs of once magnificent side chambers, à la Belas Knap, perhaps as many as six of them. There was a lot of rubble underfoot, some still stacked up, which you could see if you lifted some of the leaf mulch and dug around a bit with your fingers But at some point it has been carelessly dug out. One single standing stone at its head end is all that's left upright; 3 feet tall, 3 feet wide and only 6 inches thick.

Despite its terrible condition, I was really impressed with this place. I guess I have seen enough long barrows now to be able to fill in the blanks in my imagination.

You really wouldn't want to come here in the summer when the undergrowth is at its height, the brambles turn it into Ankle Laceration City, even in winter.

Reduced now to a virtually imperceptible swell in a meadow, you have to be a real Long Barrow Detective (cue for TV series?) to even notice this let alone get excited by it. I walked its length. At some point it was very big, but this has melted away to almost nothing. What a bloody shame.