What's happened here then? Stones all over the shop. Big stones, little stones, upside down in the heather stones…..Looks like the setting could be any one or more of the suggestions given in the fieldnotes below.
It's a pity about the erosion of the moor around the stones, but it takes little away from what is an interesting place.
I took another visit up here a few days ago, had another wander past the site around the grouse butts, loose rocks, ricky outcrops and sheep, and noticed a rectangular shap that didn't match the rest of the grouse butts, infact looked nothing like them.
I notice one of the previous posts mentions a cairn - could this be it? Fours walls with slabs over the top, small fern or bracken growing under the slabs. Still a wonderful place no matter how damaged it is (why it hasn't been fenced off from vehicles I don't understand)
A megalithic mess indeed, it really does look like somebody let a bomb off in the middle of this one. Burl says it could have been a pair of four-posters, but three of the stones on the eastern arrangement are not so much fallen as strewn and look to me as if they’ve been moved making an interpretation difficult - they gave me the impression of having been dumped here during field clearance. They also seem to have a different appearance to the standing stone next to them, it is sandy coloured, smoothish but fractured while the more solid looking prostrate slabs seem a darker colour and are heavily pitted. Perhaps the eroded surface is evidence that they fell a very long time ago though, rather than being toppled recently. A smaller stone stands just to the east.
To the west are the stones of the second setting, for some reason I didn’t go over to look at them, sadly the site doesn’t really inspire you to spend a lot of time here – I’ll investigate the other stones another day.
[visited 11/4/03 & 14/4/03] So after a very nice visit to ramsdale, we meandered our way down and up some very steep little roads to this site. Lovely views but a sore site.
The standing stones and the Grouse Butts are just about the only things recognisable as man-made. I think I found the Cairn that Dyer mentions and maybe 1 or 2 outliers but otherwise a sad sad site.
Despite its trashed state (and possibly because of it) the site lies just off the main Whitby to Pickering road, so as we headed back to London after yet another Whitby goff fest, I stopped for a quick second look. I noticed the huge number of 2ps seemingly welded to one of the stones this time and then we made a run for it as about 100 sheep converged on us expecting food...
Love your brum-brum engine! It won't love you that's for sure when you make it climb the hill to this place! "Upwards at 45 degrees" gained new meaning there!
After roaming around, freezing are fingers and toes off, Commondale and Freebrough Hill we finally reached these lovelies. I was a stone-circle virgin and lost my circle virginity at the High Bridestones - how appropriate we thought!
The main stone looks just like a big willy with it's bell-end and it's lovely grassy forest - but it's a good one! I'm currently painting it, and everyone who sees it thinks the same thing...
A few fallen stones beside it, and some smaller ones scattered about - we had some gorgeous views on that FREEZING autumn evening.
The area can be very boggy when wet, so best not take your good shoes. Lots of lumpy moss all around helps give it an other-worldly atmosphere, but I have to aggree that the area has been badly disturbed by ignorant pheasant shooters, local teens and sheep farmers!
The Low Bridestones just down the hill towards Grosmont are quite hard to find amongst the heather and peat bogs, but just follow the stone wall from the road and you'll soon see them.
We could easily see circles here, but you'd need an aeriel view to get a better idea of what's there - but we're convinced!
Take lots of thick, warm clothes and hot drinks if you go at anytime other than a heatwave - that wind is a nighmare!
The site has lovely views over the moors and me and tim (dodman apprentice) had a nice post-christmas picnic between the high and low stones on a nice flat outcrop
The whole complex is a bit of a bombsite really.
Trying to inturpret this site is nigh on impossible. Possible stone rows, possible four poster and circle. I don't think we'll ever know. The tallest remaining stone is constantly under attack from arseholes jamming coins into the weathered cracks with the result of accelerating the erosion. The whole site is becoming terribly eroded by vehicles accessing the moor and ?the robbing of stone
Situated high upon a lonely Yorkshire moor upon a bleak limestone pavement surrounded by heather this place presents an experience of devastationƒ a virtual moonscape surrounded by the remnants of military activity. Here 6 enigmatic stones stand forlorn, 5 fallen, besmirched and contaminated by modern activity, not least the attentions of modern seekers who have rammed and hammered coins into the cracks of the stones where they rust and stain with the corruption of a modern spiritual emptiness that sees money (of all things) as an offering to be foisted upon this place. Stones have been placed to reinvent the ñcircleî (which is possibly a pair of ruined fourposters). Never have I seen such a sad site. As I look towards the Esk Valley - as magnificent a view as I have ever beheld - my spirits are still low. To the right stands Flat Howe like a brooding boil upon the horizon and behind me the peaky prominence of Brekon Howe. So desolate do we feel, so distracted by modern intrusion in such a monumental setting we miss the fact that the Low Bridestones are a matter of yards away and thus do not walk the extra plods to visit them. Let this place be a warning to those of us who popularise these liminal spaces, the narratives we bring with us will close down as well as open the doors of our perceptions. We have a duty towards these places that is beyond us and with us.
"I met a man from an antique land
Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert.....Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown
And wrinkled lips, and sneer of cold command,
tell that it's sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed:
And on the pedestal these words appear:
"My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!"
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away."