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Signs. Spring Equinox at Mitchell's Fold.


I don't like winter, that's not strictly true, what I really don't like is being cold, it hurts. So I am pretty eager for signs that we're moving back to the good times of warmth and light, signs like snowdrops and crocuses, the day being light when i'm going work, signs like the spring equinox. Which is today, so i'm going out to see some stones and take a look at what the sky is up to. Though I can probably guess.
So, where to go, it needs to be quite close, so Callanish is out, i'm old and knackered so it shouldn't be hard to get to, so Bryn Cader Faner is out. How about the Bull stones on the edge of the Peak district, too small.
Mitchell's Fold? It's been eleven years since last time. Done.
It's closer than you think, to my house, I got there with time to spare, which is quite unusual. But I was going to need that extra time, because
it had been snowing a day or two ago, heavily, in places I had to wade through two foot deep snow drifts. Seeing other places in winter makes me see just how strangely weather free home is, it snows, for sure, but it's only just a mild inconvenience, it doesn't close roads.

After much heaving and sighing I arrive at the circle, first thing to do is remove the wads of snow from inside my not good new boots, second, breath heavily on my stinging cold fingers til there warm enough to handle the camera. Third, do photography.
The equinox sun looked to be rising from behind the Stiperstones, a rocky cairn topped ridge of ankle breaking renown, about six kilometers distant.

Mitchell's Fold — Images

21.03.18ce
<b>Mitchell's Fold</b>Posted by postman<b>Mitchell's Fold</b>Posted by postman

I say looked to be, cloud, which had been absent my whole drive here had come out of no where to obscure the magic moment of sun rise. There was just a thin sliver of sky protruding through the grime close to the ground, enough to see where the sun would be if all was perfect. It's not even close.
If it's been eleven years since I've been here, the same must be true of the Hoarstones stone circle as well. So I march off in the direction of Stapeley hill, it was easier last time as I had a mountain bike, this was likely to take longer.
I passed the Dead cow stone not seeing it, as I was talking to the sheep, they chose to ignore me.
Reaching the top of Stapeley hill wasn't easy, long deep snow drifts had to be navigated like some cruel Labyrinth, or waded through, flipping snow, is it really necessary ?
Stapeley hill has two rocky peaks, with superior views, hanging between the two on a shallow ridge was something I wasn't expecting, kind of. I'd seen pictures of it, but hadn't appreciated where it was, a nice little ring cairn, it was here ! cooooool, if this ring cairn was on twitter, I'd have like it. What ever that means.

Stapeley Hill — Images

21.03.18ce
<b>Stapeley Hill</b>Posted by postman

New boots are beginning to hurt, just above the ankle, it must be time to walk further away from the car, course it is.
Like I said, it's been a while since I was last here, so I decide to come down off the hill too early and start searching for a stone circle that isn't there, deep snow, hidden holes, hidden streams, all impeded progress, I was just about to give up when a van came close by, I went over, he stopped, we talked. It's not here, it's on the other side of the forest commission bit, over there, he pointed, up and over.
He gave me directions, but my man mind can only hold half of all directions, I set off again.
Somewhere in the forest I got distracted following animal footprints in the snow, and went wrong. Nothing was making sense, I stupidly left the map in the car, but am fairly sure I've just gone off the top of it, so it's useless anyway. I'm now poking about around a house called Hillcrest near castle ring hill fort, another man helps with directions, it's over there, holds out both arms and indicates it's between them, over there somewhere. It's looking a bit grim now, I've warmed up, but lost a stone circle, it was much easier last time. Next is a long walk along the road rounding the Hemford corner and heading back to the A 488. I have by now given up, even the sight of four Roe deer doe's doesn't fill me with positivity, I do photography and walk on, painfully, some walking boots aren't really made for walking.
Back on the main road I spot a footpath that goes in the direction of back up Stapeley hill, I take it. Immediately I recognise this place, I believe I am now close to the circle, at one point I peer across the snowy moor, but see nothing and give up once more, I shouldn't have, it was there, I looked right at it but didn't see it.
Grumped out, I stomp back up and around Stapeley hill, blundering haplessly upon the Dead Cow stone, at least I managed to find that, by accident.

The Cow Stone — Images

21.03.18ce
<b>The Cow Stone</b>Posted by postman
I pause at Mitchell's fold and try and get the scant blue sky into a stoney picture or three. And go.
But I couldn't let it go for long, after wading back through the snow I get in the car and look at the map, oh, there it is, kind of exactly where both my local helpers said it was, I drive back to that same footpath off the A488, ditch the car angrily by the side of the road, don my wellies and wade through ankle deep freezing mud and shite across two fields and there it is. Then I went snow blind.
The sun had decided to show itself, the snow seemed to glow thumpingly, hitting my eyes with some considerable vigour.

The Hoarstones — Images

21.03.18ce
<b>The Hoarstones</b>Posted by postman

I had to shield my eyes from the worst of the glare whilst I took some photos, then I sat on the edge of the circle upon a flat topped stone and closed my eyes, with some relief.
After the sun had gone back in I inspected the stones more closely, well, I say closely, I mean I didn't fall over them.
Two holes have been drilled into one of the remaining stones, some say they could be ancient but the loss of over half the ring suggests a more explosive reason.
A central stone, there's one of them at the Bull stones on the edge of the Peak district, I wonder if the sun put in an appearance there, I imagine it would have been life changing.
Time to go, I agree with the devil on my shoulder and trespass wildly in order to take a more direct mud and shite free route back to the car.

Done.

Weblog

Round and round in circles.


It's that time of year again, the most over-rated season of all, Autumn.
The last vestiges of my stone hugging obsession still demand that I be at some stones on the solstices and equinox's, though in recent years it has become less important to be there on the exact day, a couple of days out is now acceptable when before it wasn't.
I decide upon a Cumbrian excursion, the plan such as it was, was to be at Brat's Hill stone circle and neighbours for sunrise, then go to Sampson's Bratfull cairn but I overslept and got up fifty minutes late, given how much sleep I usually get, an easy thing to do when trying to get up at 3am.
Swearing at the world in general I make my way up the M6 motorway, realising that I have no chance of getting to Boot in time I tweak the plan slightly and head instead for Castlerigg, then onto Boot.
But the second disappointment of the day was about rear it's ugly and unwelcome head, just getting over the Thelwall viaduct when my car started to heavily overheat. I had to now dissuade myself from throwing in the towel, turning round and going home. Instead I stopped at Charnock Richard services filled up with water, bought a bottle of the stuff and carried on calmly up the M6. All was well, I made it to the big Cumbrian ring with time to spare and without the red dashboard light coming back on.
Many years ago when I decided that solsticing and equinoxing should be something that I should be doing (What do we call someone who goes out to stones on these quarterly points of the year) the first place I went to was Castlerigg, I was all alone at the stones, but it was pretty foggy and wet. So being back here for another equinox, on my own, just as my obsession wains, seems to be very fitting, a full circle kind of thing. But, for now, everything is as it always has been.

Castlerigg — Images

26.09.17ce
<b>Castlerigg</b>Posted by postman<b>Castlerigg</b>Posted by postman

There are three other people here, a couple with a camera on a tripod, and a single chap similarly tripoding, they've secured their seats for the sunrise and I slot myself in between the two, further back, lest anyone try to speak to me.
The sky is behaving itself for a change, there are clouds but they're shapely, impressive, enhancing clouds. After three equinox's here I have determined that you may never be able to see the moment of sunrise from Castlerigg, because it is blocked by the north end of Low Rigg, but then there has always been horizon hugging cloud obscuring the rising, it could be that the sun rises out of the joining point of ground and hill, I doubt the skies will ever be perfect enough to determine such an assertion. I wonder if the sun does a similar thing at the solstice with Blencathra, there's only one way to tell, look at Fitzcoraldo's picture of the solstice sunrise, it seems to bare me out.
The sun has risen, and I have said good day to it, taken 150 photos, and i'm ready to try and nurse my car through the mountains, the couple that was here have gone and a late comer is now talking to the other chap and looking at me, will he try and talk to me too? No, cause i'm going, now. Bye stones.

As a postman, I've been delivering to Thirlmere Rd for nearly nineteen years, so it was with some satisfaction that I drove down the A591 alongside that very Mere, then I realised I was thinking about work whilst out stoning, punishable by death in some places, I put my foot down and leave Thirlmere behind.

Reaching Ambleside (we've got one of them too) I think refilling the radiator before trying to nurse my car over Wrynose and Hardknot pass would be a good idea, it would have been to if the thing hadn't erupted boiling water straight into my face, propelling the water cap fifteeen yards away, the woman refueling her car asked If I was OK, I nodded, so, with still bubbling flesh hanging off me, I refill the radiator, buy another bottle, so I don't get caught short in Eskdale, wipe myself down, I thought boiling water was supposed to be, well, boiling, or at least quite hot, not at all, shrugged it off and kept going.
Have you ever heard of the Death road in Bolivia, where someone dies every week, sometimes by the bus load, well that's what Hardknot pass is like, not really, but it's as close as England gets.
Reaching Eskdale and the village of Boot, I see there's no where else but the railway carpark at Dalegarth to park, £3.50 for the day was I thought quite reasonable. The walk begins.
Boot is a nice little place, with, I think, three pubs, that's a lot of alcohol for such a little place. Crossing the river and passing the 16th century mill the walk goes seriously up hill, it is steep, wet and very uneven, I remember my ex wife came up here with me last time, pre digital camera, pre children, looking at it now I must congratulate her for getting as far as she did, which was the group of mining homes that cluster near another cairn like structure that I forgot to photograph on the way back down. That time, I was left to go on alone see the stones and then come back for her, but because of the waiting woman I didn't have enough time to find the Low Longrigg stone circles. No such restrictions this time, just me, the mountains, the weather and some stones.

The ground has levelled out and I'm heading for a slight mound, from on top of which I hope to be able to see the stones, brilliantly the circle is just the other side of the mound, and just a bit further on I can see the stones of White Moss, no sign of Low Longrigg though.

Brat's Hill — Images

28.09.17ce
<b>Brat's Hill</b>Posted by postman<b>Brat's Hill</b>Posted by postman

Brats Hill stone circle is the largest of the five circles up here, some stones are large and prominent, whilst others are lying down and barely seen over the grass. There is what seems to be a central standing stone, well, its definitely a stone and it's around the central area, but there are also five cairns within the circle, the stone is on the circumference of one of the round cairns, so perhaps its to do with that. The cairns are a nice addition too, perfect little round mounds with occasional kerbing visible. I stroll over to the alter, a rock outcrop that is thee place to look down upon the circle and get a good view of the area. There is one big dark mountain away to the back, a quick look at my map magically informs me that it is Scafell, our biggest mountain, been up there twice, been in whiteout twice, a most uncooperative mountain.

A pair of walkers have encroached upon my musings so I push on to the White Moss stone circles. They are about 30 yards from one and other, the south west circle occupies one end of a very low ridge the stones being about the sizes of a toaster to a large microwave, one for the kitcheny types there. There's two cairns here, one is just outside the circle and the other is well inside it and may even have a cist lid still in situ. The north east circle, for me the best one up here, if it were alone it would still draw me in. All the stones are stood nice and up straight in a restored kind of way, a cairn inhabits the inside of the circle. Together with a view of Scafell this is one of the best stone circles I've ever been to, if it's not on your list of places to visit, you should stop visiting places.

White Moss — Images

28.09.17ce
<b>White Moss</b>Posted by postman<b>White Moss</b>Posted by postman<b>White Moss</b>Posted by postman

More people are coming, taking the obligatory photo, look I'm in a stone circle and my arms are out wide, click, move on.
I get out of their way by marching off in what I hope is the direction of Low Longrigg, I have a map and a compass, but in the end, walking round and round in circles getting ever higher is what found me the stones. Something I've become accustomed to.

Nobodies going to be coming over here in a hurry, map only says there's cairns here, they're really off the path, hiding in long grass, I have the place to myself.

Low Longrigg — Images

28.09.17ce
<b>Low Longrigg</b>Posted by postman<b>Low Longrigg</b>Posted by postman

If anything the view from Low Longrigg is even better that that seen from White Moss, solely because Great Gable has now come into the picture, perhaps my favourite Cumbrian mountain.
Both of these stone circles are ruinous, the stones low, the south west circle has a central cairn in it, the north east circle has two.
I stay here at these two circle the longest, the view is spectacular, the way Great Gable forms a valley with Kirk Fell, is possibly reflected in one of the stones in the north east circle, if memory serves it is the closest stone to Great Gable.
I don't like walking, a walk has to have a destination, anything will do really, but five stone circles is a pretty good destination, and if the long walk keeps the people away then so much the better
In the end I'd been up there for four hours, and in the very end I managed to get the car back home without much palava.

Weblog

Getting high by staying low.


It's been quite a while since the last Sweetcheat/postman mountain excursion, so when asked what do I fancy I went straight to the top of the list and suggested the Nantlle ridge in Snowdonia. The suggestion was greedily accepted so long as the ice and snow line was higher than we were going, there's not much need to risk life and limb in either of us. As the universe works in mysterious ways everything was working in our favour for a change, the snow was higher than we were going and even more miraculous we could see the tops of the mountains, six or seven times out of ten the clouds will be low and we'll be walking in a white out, it's invigorating to say the least but it's not conducive to wonderment at the world.
With the car parked in the all but empty car park by the lovely Llyn Dywarchen, the same parking place as an ascent of Mynydd Mawr, we turned to face our adversary, that sounds a bit negative maybe, see it as not an enemy to be fought but rather as an assault course to get through, or even as a beautiful woman to be wooed, because climbing a mountain is a lot like, yes, you've guessed it, making love to a beautiful woman, it's really not, but I could give a pretty good argument that it is.

The first twenty minutes are easy enough, hands in pockets dodging wet spots, stop and turn for a slowly getting better view of Snowdon, but then the ground gets steeper and steeper and the legs try harder and harder to propel one forwards and upwards. The way is easy to keep to, but it is still very hard work, I find it all but impossible to grasp the fact that some people run up and down mountains, my job requires me to walk ten miles a day with a heavy bag over my back, but it in no way prepares you for staggering up a mountain.
Thankfully, our first stopping point is only 400 meters higher than the car park, a very good pair of cairns upon a summit called Y Garn.
Both cairns are taller than me and made up of large blocks of stone of which there are plenty of round here. About forty meters separate them, shallow scoops have been dug into them both by shelter hungry walkers, which is twice as stupid as it sounds seeing as there is a wall right by the cairns, this is where we sat and had butties.

Y Garn, Nantlle Ridge — Images

01.05.16ce
<b>Y Garn, Nantlle Ridge</b>Posted by postman

Y Garn, Nantlle Ridge — Images

01.05.16ce
<b>Y Garn, Nantlle Ridge</b>Posted by postman

As impressive as the cairns are the eyes are drawn far more to the rocky pyramid Mynydd Drws y coed, iv'e been here before but chickened out of a solo climb, instead I went as far as I dared and just sat there for a bit, but not this time.

We approached with extreme trepidation, ten feet to the right of us is a vertical cliff, a direct one way ticket straight down to the inevitable big crunch. As we climb the rocks higher and higher, fear of imminent death makes my legs shake, looking almost anywhere results in overpowering dizziness, we are maybe ten feet from what looks like the top of the rocky pinnacle, Alken somehow has the ability to stand upright, I am now on my belly staying low clinging on for dear life with all four limbs, unable to go any higher, with a note of disappointment I have to admit that I can go no farther this way. So we both come down a little and find an easier way round the rocks of absolute mayhem, legs still shaking, I lean away from the down bits, always having hands on to something, rock, grass, heather, anything to ensure a grip, I haven't been that scared since Crib Goch. But with something like determination and the help of a friend I eventually made it to the top.
Analogies with the final act of making love to a beautiful woman aside, this is one of the best feelings in the world, not only did we conquer the heights but also my almost crippling fear of falling, i'm fine with being high up, it's the fall i'm deathly afraid of.
The views are brilliant, Snowdon dominates, as only the biggest mountain in the country can, Mynydd Mawr and Moel Eilio to Snowdons left, to its right Yr Aran and further round is Moel Hebog and co. In the opposite direction to Snowdon is the rest of the Nantlle ridge and other mountains with cairns on them, they all have names of course but you need a mouthful of phlegm to pronounce them, I have a real problem with the Welsh language, I believe it was created solely to confuse foreigners, ie the English.

Moel Hebog — Images

01.05.16ce
<b>Moel Hebog</b>Posted by postman

Mynydd Mawr — Images

01.05.16ce
<b>Mynydd Mawr</b>Posted by postman


Anyhow, we continue our walk along the Nantlle ridge, the ridge is not as terrifying as where we've just come from but it does get quite thin in places. At one point the ridge has a hole in it, which has to be climbed down then back up, I employed a method now known as reverse spider walk, basically it's the crab position, getting down is easier than getting up, for me at least.
The last peak has now been breached, Mynydd Tal y mignedd, you wouldn't know by looking at that Welsh word but there are two th's in there. This last peak of the day has no cairn, but it does have a Queen Vic obelisk on it, a small point of interest it must be said, but as most mountain tops have nowt on them, you get your interest when you can. The next mountain top along the ridge does have a cairn on it,

Craig Cwm-Silyn — Images

01.05.16ce
<b>Craig Cwm-Silyn</b>Posted by postman
and the next one, but we've run out of time and these must be saved for another time. It only remains to decide upon a route back to the car which is now two miles away, instead of going back up and down over those scary heights we aim for the road north of the ridge then strike in a fairly straight line back to the car. It does afford a great view of Snowdon

Yr Wyddfa — Images

01.05.16ce
<b>Yr Wyddfa</b>Posted by postman
and a small hill fort across the road somewhere, whose position is only determined by close inspection of the photos at home later, and of course we can look up and wonder at the ridge unbelieving almost that we were up there just a short while ago.

Weblog

The Gorse awakens


This year the solstice turned out to be on the 22nd, not the 21st, and most definitely not on the 20th, but seeing as the first two dates are work days and ive not got the option of going off sick, Sunday the 20th will have to do.
At least there would be no part time enthusiasts clogging the place up, the place in question being the oh so divine Druids circle above Penmaenmawr, it is a wondrous place, big mountains to the south and west, and north down hill to the Irish sea. Plus it is not alone on these hills, the Druids circle is just one out of at least ten places that are well worth a visit. Also the almost complete lack of gorse is very heart warming.
So far, I have witnessed the sunrise here on the summer solstice, an equinox, and one more for the complete set, a winter solstice. The actual moment of sunrise was obscured by a mountain, but even when the sun came above the mountain, clouds got in the way, and it was windy, so windy that just standing up straight was exhausting, even stringing several swear words together didn't help, well not with the standing up anyway.
At the summer solstice the sun rises up out of the sea, a spectacle to behold I can tell you, the equinox sun rises above some low hills, more or less marked by Maen Penddu standing stone and Cefn Maen Amor stone circle, that was a good sun rise, but it's no summer solstice.
The winter solstice sunrise, some might say that the sight line is blocked by a mountain, but when that mountain is Tal y Fan, the most megalithically covered mountain in Britain, one has to consider the idea that it is intentional.

Y Meini Hirion — Images

21.12.15ce
<b>Y Meini Hirion</b>Posted by postman

Y Meini Hirion — Images

10.04.13ce
<b>Y Meini Hirion</b>Posted by postman

Y Meini Hirion — Images

14.07.10ce
<b>Y Meini Hirion</b>Posted by postman

At the stone circle itself there is a couple of platforms from which a view of the circle is best seen from, The highest platform is also the perfect viewing place from which to watch the sun rise in mid winter, the second platform is perfect for viewing the equinox sun rise over the middle of the circle, and the lowest platform, I say platform but it's not really is where the summer sun can be seen best rising over the circle.
I cannot say that the platforms are constructed, or meant to be used to observe the sun rises, but it's really too much to put down to coincidence, perhaps the least one can say for certain is that the circle was carefully placed. Possibly.

Anyway, I've been up here for five hours now and it's time to go and see some gorse, wonderful stuff gorse, well, it is when you've cut it down and thrown it far into the wind, unlike Han Solo.

Carnedd y Saeson is one of the best sites along the North Walean coast
but like lots of places it is being choked by and disappearing under gorse.
Fifteen months ago Thesweetcheat and I went there and trampled the stuff as best we could, but whats really needed is a flick saw and a few hours. I gave it both.

Carnedd y Saeson — Images

28.12.15ce
<b>Carnedd y Saeson</b>Posted by postman

The big gorse bush by the cist is gone as is most of the gorse covering the southern arc of stones, work is ongoing. I myself am in two minds about undergrowth removal, I am aware that the authorities could take a dim view, and I am not unsympathetic to the free growth of all living things, but in some places it just has to go.
What I really needed was a big light saber and Anakins lust for cutting down younglings.
My arms and chest muscles hurt for several days, and right after the exercise my hands stung like a snake bite, it crossed my mind that I should leave Wales to clear up it's own stone circle themselves, then the inner voice said yeah right and chuckled long into the night
Work is ongoing.

Weblog

A Holyhead bloodbath


I've just been to the big white stones of Henblas cromlech, and was very disappointed to find the footpath overgrown and never used, but it still didn't take long to beat a path through the undergrowth, I very much enjoyed my time here, until I received a phone call asking if the kids and me wanted to go out for tea at the Plough, I said OK even though it meant a visit to Trefignath was not going to happen, but I was adamant that the burial chamber that no ones ever heard of near Holyhead would not escape my attention. I found the path back to the car more easily on the way back, aint it always the way.
Back in the car I put my foot down and soon we were going the wrong way in the mental labyrinth that is Holyhead, god I hate this town, cant really say why, it just seems a hopelessly depressing place, the best thing about Holyhead is the road and ferry out of it. Sorry, perhaps its me, not you. Eventually after much cursing I found ourselves on the wrong side of the island and stuck behind the worlds most inconsiderate motor home driver, ever. I've only got a short time before we have to start back, I can feel my hackles getting up, but happily we parted company at the turning for Penrhos Feilw, which we passed by with no more than a glance. Once the two standing stones were out of view behind us I started looking for a suitable place to park.

Having not found one I squeezed in at the side of the road by an opening for a horse paddock, as I wasn't going to be gone long I left daughter in the car with her I phone and two big horses for company. I jumped the gate and started off, over another fence and I was in the open countryside. I could see the upright stones on top of the hill, not far away, 300 yards if that. But getting there was proving difficult, walls of thick gorse blocked my route, and I had to weave a path of my own around and sometimes through, it hurts does gorse, I don't like it, not one bit. The going was hard and time was short, I got to a likely looking rocky outcrop from which to look over the sea of gorse to the site i'd come to see. Crap ! I'm not wading through that lot, I sat for a minute, then decided that I would actually wade through that lot, it's nearly a hundred miles from my house, am I really going to give up when I'm so very close......nope.
I sent a text telling them I would be a touch late for tea.
I actually found a good path through the vicious barbed gorse, it took me all the way to the foot of the Gorsedd, only to be faced with a twelve foot vertical rock climb, I don't like rock climbing, like football it all seems a bit unnecessary.
I struggled through the shaky legs and came out on top, just, I threw my hands up in the air and said out loud nature nil, postman 1.

Gorsedd Gwlwm — Images

21.07.15ce
<b>Gorsedd Gwlwm</b>Posted by postman<b>Gorsedd Gwlwm</b>Posted by postman<b>Gorsedd Gwlwm</b>Posted by postman

This site is not on any map, thanks be to coflein for pointing it out to me.
Only three stones remain standing of the chamber or large cist, and maybe a couple of kerb stones hiding among the gorse, by now I've decided not to call it gorse anymore, but by the more colourful
name of M*t**r - F*c**r, that's a bad swear word there.
All the time I was here a Buzzard circled me overhead screeching, if this was a western film it would soon be curtains for me.
The view was terrific, north is the Holyhead hut circle group and the fort on the mountain, south is Angelsey giving way to distant Snowdonia, east and west is the Irish sea, and of course that little town.
But, all too soon I must go, I scrambled back down the cliff and followed the path back to where I got on it and then passed that place, only for the path to stop at a dead end, the grass was well trampled, sleeping horses, frolicking humans, or even a Bigfoot nest (they're everywhere you know ).
This is where my time in hell began, I could see no way out, there was nothing for it but to simply wade through the m****r - f***r. Growling, shouting and swearing at the top of my voice did nothing to stop the pain. I remember a wally from long ago saying he was impervious to m****r f****r pain, I didnt believe him then and now I know he was lying. It was like being attacked by a dozen Leprechauns with sharp swords. Every now and then brambles would grab my leg and threaten to pull me over, once when I did go down I lay there for a few seconds thinking "oh well, so this is where they find my body, if you're going to die in the countryside this isn't a bad place to buy it, my ghost wouldn't half laugh at the people who come to remove my body, but lieing down and dieing isn't the postal way, get up man, keep going.
I imagined myself as a soldier enduring some form of jungle warfare, only without the incredible pain in my legs.
Half way back now and i'm so very tired, I look at my hand and it's bleeding quite badly, the sweat pouring off my forehead tastes bloody, and I realise that I've been wiping my sweaty brow with my bloody hand, god I must look a right state. Sometimes it gets easier to move forward, sometimes I'm just stumped and don't know where to go. Continuous swearing seems to have done the trick, I'm nearing the end of my ordeal, my legs are really stinging, I'm dreading having a look at them. Only one barbed wire fence to go, it's covered in brambles, but by now the pain is becoming normal, I bash as much brambles out of the way as I could with my camera bag, lob it over and haul myself over.
I've done it, a plain and normal field to cross and I'm back at the road, what I really don't need now is some Welsh farmer telling me i'm on private property, and that's precisely what doesn't happen, a good job too, I think I might have done away with him.
Next was the priceless look on my daughters face, Dad ! your covered in blood whats happened, now is the time to have a look at my legs. Oh shit look at that, I took a picture of them because in time the scratches will be gone and all this will be a memory. What I really need now is medical attention of some sort, instead I think I'll drive a hundred miles to a posh pub for a well deserved pub meal. One of the good things about going out with my Ex wife and her mother is I can turn up stinking like a torture victim.

So, in summary.
This site is a good one, you will have the place to yourself, views are good, but for the love of god come from the north.
M****r f*****g gorse should be wiped out, extinctified, by flamethrower, bagsy first on that.
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After visiting over a thousand ancient places and driving between fifteen to twenty thousand miles every year I can only conclude that I'm obsessed with these places, and finding this website ten years ago only compounded that obsession, at least I'm not alone anymore.

My favourite places are:

Ring of Brodgar
Callanish
Balnauran of Clava
Torhouskie
Swinside
Nine stones close
Bryn Celli Ddu
The Druids circle (penmaenmawr)
HafodyGors Wen
Gwal y Filiast
Grey Wethers
Boscawen Un
La Roche au Fees
Drombeg
Uragh
Talati De Dalt

and these are only the ones that immediatly spring to mind, so many stones and not enough lifetimes.

My TMA Content: