Latest Fieldnotes

After spending time at Nant Esgeiriau cairn and then Pennant cairns we gave over some time to have a good look round the Cwm Tywyll ritual complex.
Avebury, Stonehenge, Ness of Bordgar, these are all ritual complexes too, but lack of fame isn’t the only difference between those and here.
A few cairns, a ring cairn and a small standing stone are what it takes to be dubbed “ritual complex” here in the North Walean uplands. An ignorant walker would walk right on through it without noticing it, there are no temples or trilithons here. It’s a subtle complex.
But still quite beautiful, the views in all directions stir the soul. We never saw no small standing stone, just a cairn and the ring cairn, coflein only says it’s a possible ring cairn, but i’m going to go out on a limb and suggest that Thesweatcheat and myself have been to more ring cairns than the person who said possible, and we say definitely a ring cairn.
I’m not sure I discerned the three eccentrically concentric stony rings, it’s a bit of a messy ring cairn, for sure, but still a ring cairn.
A small cairn is across the footpath, worthy of note only because of it’s close proximity to the ring cairn.

Just over one or two fences, and within site of the Yr Aran cairns are three cairns, lower down the slope are two partially grass covered low mound of stones, both have lumps of quartz on top. Map and Coflein says there should be just one lower down cairn but we could clearly see two. from these two cairns we can see the other cairn higher up the hill, about half way up. It seems to have big white somethings piled high on top of it. We walk up hill.
This is the best of all the cairns here in this big group.
It is the largest and has lots of big quartz chunks piled on top of it mixed with the more normal coloured rocks, they probably aren’t original, and might cover the only intact cist up here. Who knows.
Views of the Berwyns, Sian Llwyd and very distant Snowdonia are very good.

I last came here 7 years ago on a misty summer solstice morning, lack of knowledge made me miss half of the cairns. Coflein later told me that one or two of them have cists, and elsewhere I missed a ring cairn and a kerb cairn so I promised myself one day I would return.
For a change, Thesweatcheat and myself find a coinciding day off work with no hindrances, apart from car over heating problems, it’s on it’s way out cant be helped. So here we are.
There is no footpath up to the cairns, early on in the walk we came across a farm, saw the farmer and asked if we can get up there pointing to the hill top we wanted to climb, worryingly he asked why we wanted to go up there, we said “cairns” you know the ancient ones, he pointed out there are no public footpaths up there, I gave him my best innocent smile, we’ll be alright wont we? He pointed out the way up and off we went.
A steep farm track took us almost all the way to the cairns, it was hard work, did I say it was steep?
The cairns are all low and small, some have kerbing showing and some have been dug into revealing the cairns innards, didn’t see any cists.
Then the farmer turned up in his buggy with his two dogs. We chatted about the cairns and stuff and discovered his family had been farming here for four generations, I took a chance and asked if he knew much about the Berwyn incident. He knew a lot, his granddad had been on tele talking about the tremor, the loud bang, the lights, the army.
Not interested in the Berwyn incident? never heard of it? Long drawn out sigh.

So, not all the cairns here, there are over a dozen, are grouped under the name of Yr Aran cairns, strangely the two or three furthest south over the fence are called Rhyd-y-Gethin, which is stranger still as Rhyd-y-Gethin is the other side of Yr Aran and down in the valley. Two Yr Aran cairns are over the north south fence but north of the west east fence, there are a few fences up here. It is farmland, not open access Berwyn nature reserve.
these two cairns are much the same as the cairns by the trees. Hope that all makes sense.

From Abbotswell Road follow the Kincorth Hill path heading west until the fence heads south. At this point follow the fence to the trig, which by this time the visitor will have noticed sits on top of the site.

This cairn has tremendous views east to the many ancient sites on Tullos Hill. It also has not so tremendous views to some of Aberdeen’s busied industrial estates.

The eastern site of the cairn has seen a vast amount of damage. A lot of quarrying has happened. Meanwhile the eastern side seems to have been protected by the trig and the fence.

What remains is a cairn that was originally well over 18m wide, standing at almost 2m tall with a trig plonked on top.

A nice day to go explore and re-visit the other cairn almost a mile to the west.

Visited 18/1/2018.

There are more than 20 small cairns on this wee and not very high ridge, the largest of which is in the photographs. This cairn is just over 6m wide and 0.5m tall. 4 kerbs remain in place. The usual cairn material scattering and houking has also taken place.

I found at least 16 of the nearby cairns in various states of ruin. At least the trees now are protecting them for a little time.

Westerord can be found just to the south of Westhill. Take the second minor road south on the B9119, heading west from the A944. At the first corner take the track west and ask permission if requiring to park. From the house head south east and walk straight, uphill, to the cairn.

Visited 11/1/2018.

A sandstone boulder decorated with 17 cup-marks on its upper surface and measuring around 0.7m by 0.8m can be found in an area of rig and furrow cultivation here.

A piece of sandstone carved with a cup mark surrounded by two concentric rings was found on the ground just south-west of the ramparts of Finavon fort in 1987.

Measuring around 0.28m by around 0.25m, it is now housed in the McManus Galleries in Dundee.

Ah, hill forts.... of all the myriad monument types featured within – or should that be on? – TMA I would have thought the hill fort would be the simplest to define? A fort built upon a hill, right? What could be easier? Hmmm. For starters, how does one define a hill? My Oxford English Dictionary reckons a hill is “A naturally raised area of land, not as high or craggy as a mountain”, whereas a mountain is “A large natural elevation of the earth’s surface rising abruptly from the surrounding level; a large steep hill”. Pretty woolly explanations, to be fair. Open to interpretation, particularly when, for example, the locals upon The Isle of Skye refer to the peerless, 3,000ft plus naked rock of The Black Cuillin as ‘hills’. Depends on your point of view.

Herein, then, lies my dilemma when attempting to categorise the superb little fortress of Bryn Castell. As we human are wont to do. In my estimation a ‘mountain’ imparts a certain mind set upon the visitor, irrespective of height above ordnance datum. An (apparent) appreciation that primeval forces – represented, perhaps, by the extreme application of adverse conditions such as cold, wind, precipitation etc – are acting upon the human cognitive process, somehow accessing seemingly forgotten memes (or other ancestral ‘group knowledge’ cascaded down the millennia – hey, clearly I’m no expert here) long since subsumed beneath an accumulation of modern behaviours and values which, I guess, only time will reveal may or may not represent an incremental advancement of our species. A feeling that, just perhaps, the landscape may actually be ‘speaking’ to us, unlocking that door in the psyche behind which a lot of interesting ‘stuff’ lies in cold storage. Reminding us that we should really be taking a lot more notice of the base forces which shape our environment. That we should show more respect to the Nature of Darwin and Hawking, venture forth from the geodesic dome on a more regular basis. Like Michael York who, upon finding that his ‘life clock’ is now blinking, decides to do make a break for reality in Logan’s Run. Making sure not to forget Jenny Agutter as he does so, naturally. Or something like that. Whatever the truth... for me, Bryn Castell is a ‘mountain fort’ since it causes me to think of such things.

The current 1:25K OS map depicts Bryn Castell as a ‘Settlement’. Not something to raise the antiquarian pulse, to be honest. However, needs must, the site featuring upon my ‘bad weather list’, invoked upon those unfortunately all-too-frequent days (such as today) when cloud sits upon the North Walian uplands like a gigantic mothership piloted by intergalactic beings having much to learn in the parking department. As if maintaining solidarity with said cloud base, my mood is not lifted by the presence of one of those pathetic, black-clad ‘heddlu’, er, individuals avoiding doing any worthwhile police work by pointing his little laser at me, so ensuring I miss the turning at Bontddu first time around. Look for the massive blue (I think) ‘chapel’ and follow the very steep, very minor road to its eventual terminus at a parking area beyond a gate (at SH657202).

I ignore the rough track heading left, instead venturing forth straight ahead through a gate to ascend a green track... the old London to Harlech ‘road’, no less, travelled when ‘horse power’ was quite literally just that. And employed by all. At a (presumably relatively modern) marker stone a track veers to the left (west) while the main, walled route continues to ascend the excellent, grassy Y Braich – or ‘The Arm’ – reaching down from the heights of the southern Rhinogydd above and beyond. Now since Bryn Castell is located upon the southern-most extremity of Y Braich sticking to the main route will do; however I veer to the west to enjoy what, in my opinion, is a much more memorable approach, the site towering dramatically above to my right.

So... a short climb finally brings me to the fine, univallate ‘fort. As Postman says, the view southwards across Aber Mawddach toward Cadair Idris is absolutely stunning, even when viewed under somewhat less than ideal conditions. However it is that to the north, looking up the aforementioned Y Braich to the high summits of Y Rhinogydd, the latter obscured by swirling vapour, that seems to awaken the hunter-gatherer in me. The 2,462ft Diffwys periodically beckons through the gloom, the brutal landscape occasionally illuminated by washes of sunlight all too quickly extinguished, as if by the silent admonition of a cosmic Warden Hodges: ‘Put that bloody light out you ruddy ‘ooligan!’. The path appears tempting, the foreshortened scene promising an memorable afternoon... if only the cloud would break. I wait in vain, deciding to return and make the climb some other time. As it is the weather provides an opportunity just two days hence. The route is a lot steeper than it appears.....

Suffice to say, then, that Bryn Castell occupies a damn fine spot. But what of the archaeology? Well, for such a small site the defensive wall is pretty strong (albeit clearly robbed to the east to build a dry stone field wall). Furthermore, the northern high point of the enclosure features the remains of an enigmatic round structure which could, I guess, be variously interpreted as ‘round house’, proto-donjon or round cairn. Or none of the above. For what it’s worth, the feature is perfectly profiled upon the skyline when viewed from the valley below, a characteristic suggestive of a cairn. But then again... Guess only excavation will confirm. Yeah, right. A retrospective perusal of Coflein suggests that, as with a number of other upland defensive enclosures clustered around Cadair Idris, the small size of Bryn Castell might suggest use as a temporary citadel rather than permanently occupied home?

Despite the impressive, nay, intriguing remains, for me the primary reason to come here is to enjoy that (obviously) indefinable ‘mountain vibe’. As with Crug Hywel upon the southern slopes of Pen Cerrig-calch far to the south, Bryn Castell belongs to the uplands, as if a small, wild bird cupped in the grasping hand of Y Rhinogydd. To call it a mere hill fort is to do it an injustice.

This slab features several cup marks including one which appears to be surrounded by a ring.

It was found on Balgay Hill and donated to the McManus Galleries in 2006.

I couldn’t find any reference to its discovery so have given it a grid reference which places it at the top of Balgay Hill.

It is – I would assume – one of the lesser debated imponderables of relatively recent Welsh history to contemplate whether or not, when faced with a barrage of questions from inquisitive Ordnance Surveyors, the rural peasant simply ‘made stuff up’. And, if so, was there mischievous intent? Consider a theoretical example: OS man (pointing fervently): ‘I say, you, peasant. What is the name of that big, round hill over there?’ Exasperated Peasant: ‘Oh, that’ll be ‘The Big Round Hill’, sir’. OS Man (scribbling into his notebook): ‘Jolly good. Carry on, doing whatever it is you peasants do’. Smirking Peasant (tugging his cap, then muttering under his breath): ‘Heh, heh. You muppet.‘

OK, a fanciful scenario, perhaps... but it would certainly explain why here, in the quiet, green foothills between the summit peaks of Cadair Idris and the wondrous Aber Mawddach, we have two Craig y Castells depicted upon the current 1:25K map within a mile of each other. Surely some mistake? For what it’s worth I don’t buy the alternative to local wind up... that a people steeped in the lore of giants and fairies would apply such rigidly pragmatic, localised nomenclature. Not when hoodwinking gullible officials can be so much fun, methinks. Incidentally Coflein namechecks the northern of the pair as Craig-y-Waun. Yeah, you do the maths.

But enough of such facetious, unsubstantiated conjecture! Like Thomas Dolby, way back in 1982, it’s time to defer to a more, er, scientific approach, in my case that of logical deliberation (hopefully) informed by personal observation. Or, to put it another way, time to blunder up another Welsh hillside in the teeming rain and ‘see what happens’. Hey, whether such action is more demonstrative of lunacy than the wildly exaggerated antics of the former synth boffin’s eccentric associate, Magnus Pike, is perhaps a moot point. But there you are. Anyway.... travellers approaching from Dolgellau (Love Lane, as I recall. Nice touch) should keep their eyes peeled for an obscure right turn servicing the farms of Gellilwyd Fach and Fawr. Continue beyond the latter and park up at Tal y Waen, whereupon a track heads north through the farm yard of Tyn-y-llwyn. This, now a green ‘path’, of sorts, crosses a stream and sweeps to the left under the inquisitive gaze of grazing ponies seemingly oblivious to the downpour. Or perhaps scornful of the approaching creature so woefully adapted for such conditions? Surely not?

After a short while Craig y Castell/Craig-y-Waun (tack your pick) looms above to the left. The towering profile of the ancient fortress is somewhat disconcerting viewed from below, it has to be said, the steepness of attack putting a noticeable damper upon the previous alacrity of my approach. Hmm. Nevertheless, I follow the left flank of a rather splendid dry stone wall and – eventually – arrive upon the small, craggy summit. As one might have expected from the vernacular. The ‘front door’ is approached by looping around from the south and is defended by a quite substantial drystone wall... or at least the remains of one... this continuing along the eastern flank in the ubiquitous ‘fill in the gaps’ style of such upland defensive enclosures. The western flank falls sheer to the cwm below and, together with the northern aspect (supporting a modern wall) would appear to have required little artificial protection back in the day.

The position is wild and inspiring, particularly when the low cloud base, which has been prevalent all week, caresses the hillside with swirling, grey tendrils of opaque moisture. Once again I’m a little overawed until, having ensured I know my way back down again by compass should the clammy embrace becomes more than temporary, I can afford to relax and, basically, do bugger all. As it is the conditions remain in a state of flux, glimpses of the exquisite Mawddach to the north periodically rescinded, only for views toward mighty Cadair Idris to open to the north. To be fair to locals past it is easy to imagine such a landscape being the haunt of otherworldly creatures at times such as this. Woaah! Mind where you’re placing those big feet, Mr Idris.

As I ponder ‘stuff’ (e.g. are giants all in the mind, to be feared, or merely misunderstood gigantic.. sorry, ‘size challenged’... creatures possibly taking The Human League a little too seriously?) I decide a visit to the trio of cairns shown on the map below to the south is in order. However I duly abort a direct approach – too many walls – in lieu of returning to the car and heading west at Gellilwyd Fawr. But that’s another story.

As for my observations of Craig y Castell? Well... guess it’s fair to relate that I was not so much blinded with science as seduced, held in thrall, if you will, by the stark, ethereal beauty of this landscape under such inclement conditions. Poetry? Well, yes, but the more brutal King Lear as opposed to wandering lonely as a cloud, perhaps? Although wandering lonely in a cloud might be more apt, come to think of it. But none the worse for that. And should a nameless rural peasant have, perchance, taken the piss out of a wandering map maker once upon a time.. thanks for the prompt, my friend.

I parked at a space opposite Countesswells House and walked west until the first track heading north. From here I walked about 50 metres before climbing a wee hill to a small path. A short distance to the east and the hut circle can be found.

Like its colleague at Clear Hill near Bucksburn this site would be in remarkable condition given some gentle restoration. Maybe its best just to let nature look after it. Who knows?

Stretching to almost 9m in diameter the walls of the hut circle are almost 2m wide and in some parts well over a meter high. The front door, still clearly defined, is facing south east.

Beautiful area this, well worth having a walk round the nearby woods. Quite a few massive consumption dykes.

Visited 11/1/2018.

This hut circle has taken a fair beating in its time but it still retains a sense of shape being over 12m wide. Sadly this wall has in some parts gone but some of it remains at almost two metres wide and 0.5m tall. As can be seen from the photos some of the building material is still in place.

From the RSC at Auchlee head further west past the cottage of the same name then almost double on the farm track walking next to the Shields Burn through a narrow strip of trees. At some point about 300m down track climb the fence, jump the burn and head south through the boggy field. Climb over the next fence and the hut circle shouldn’t be to hard to find. Sadly nearby small cairns seem to have vanished.

A fine way to spend a spare hour near Portlethen, at least this time I didn’t land in the burn.

Visited 4/1/2018.

Glenton North is about a mile north from it’s southern neighbour. Luckily a lot of the heather and trees have been taken down or burnt making walking conditions, apart from the boggy start, much easier. Sadly a lot of small cairns and probably a hut circle or two have been trashed beyond recognition. I went into the wood at the top of Glenton Hill (calling it forest might be an exaggeration) and like Tara didn’t see very much. However keeping heading north and on the downslope a cairn overlooking the very small village of Rickarton will be found.

It has also survived a bit better than its southern neighbour with possibly two kerbs still in place and the remains in of cist in it’s houked centre. It stands at over 6m wide and is about 0.6m high. To the north is the wonderful view of Cairn Mon Earn.

A nice way to spend a sunny afternoon near Stonehaven.

Visited 3/1/2018.

Sadly there are not much visible remains of the Glenton South cairn. All that can now be seen is a green circular patch amongst the gorse sitting at over 6m wide and 0.5m tall. Underneath the grass cairn material can be felt. What it does have are tremendous views over to Findlayston and Raedykes, homes to several cairns. A lot of the nearby smaller cairns have been gobbled up by the large amounts of gorse.

Heading west from the Cowton Bridge on the Slug Road aka the A957 Banchory Road. Take the first road heading south, almost doubling back, to North Glenton farm. I asked permission to park, which was granted, at the farm. From here I jumped the fence into a field and headed south and uphill. The cairn is located on the edge of a bog amongst jabby stuff just over the next fence/gate.

Visited 3/1/2018.

From Creag Bheag we headed back down into the valley and climbed up the other side. Nearby there is a deer fence gate. Go through this until a steep descent (which is full of various animal holes). There is a small bridge crossing the Caoachan a Mhananaich burn. Cross this and climb up the other side. On top there is another track which heads north east then, after a large turn, heads west. By this time the cairn can be seen below.

It is unusually positioned being surrounded on three sides by three slopes. The only clear view is east towards the Cairngorms and River Spey. Being over 12m wide and 1m tall I think this cairn must have been considerably larger. Large stones which might have possibly stood lay prone on the other side of the track. Kerbs survive on the east side but sadly a massive amount of houking has taken place. Still the site remains circular, defiantly looking east.

Just below is the A86 which leads to Kingussie and eventually the road home. An excellent second day in an excellent area.

Visited 30/12/2017.

From Caochan A’ Mhanaich head north east past the huge natural mound. This might look an easy walk on the map but with loads of small streams, bogs, ruined dykes and the occasional fence keeping an eye on your feet is a good idea.

Eventually a new deer fence with a fairly new track behind is reached. Climb over this and go over the road to look down into a small valley. Just to the north there is a small hillock in front of the, by now, very impressive Creag Bheag from which the site earns it name. Indeed the small hill looks like a guard standing on duty.

Go down into the valley, cross the bog (and a couple of hidden streams) and climb the wee hill. The cairn is on the southern most point.

At 8m wide and almost 0.6m high the cairn stands watch over the Pitmain Burn. The slab mentioned by Canmore, now almost entirely covered in turf, might be the remains of a cist cover. Other cairn material poke their heads through the heather and turf covered site. It is a site of fantastic beauty despite the ever increasing darkness and dampness. These simply add to the atmosphere.

Still the hills aren’t the safest place to be with darkness fast approaching so away we marched/stumbled to the last site of a wonderful day.

Visited 30/12/2017.

With Creag Bheag standing majestically to the north we continued from Newtonmore along the A86 until we reached the farm track to the ruined farm of Ballachroan. From here follow the dry stane dyke north west until it ends. Go through the gate and keep heading north west. By this time a large natural mound will be seen. Jump the burn, go through the bog and climb a wee hill. If still heading north west the cairn will be clearly seen in the short heather.

The site sits at just over 8m wide and is about 0.8m tall. Some displaced kerbs remain almost in place. Making it easier to the spot, turf covers the cairn. Even as the weather became dreicher (more damp and rainy) the scenery is magnificent. Creag Bheag looks down on top of us, the River Spey/Cairngorms are to the east and to the south the Banchor valley, one of my favourite areas.

With that it was over to look at the natural mound and on to continue splashing through the various bogs. Great fun!

Visited 30/12/2017.

Approaching from Domen-ddu, a mile (ish) to the approx south, I find the large, grassy cairn crowning the 1,873ft summit of Crugyn-Llwyd to be far less obvious – topographically speaking – than I had envisaged. Indeed, upon arrival, I’m not at all convinced that Coflein haven’t got this one badly wrong (the shame if it – oh me of little faith]. Yeah, all hill and no cairn. Please move along. Nothing to see here. However.... persevere, since, as it happens, this is very far from the case. For although Crugyn-Llwyd has reclaimed its eponymous Bronze Age monument as if clutching it close to its evergreen breast (so to speak) for safe keeping, it is nevertheless very much still here. As it has been for millennia. Hidden in plain sight, one might say. Without doubt the most effective camouflage.

So, following my own advice (for once) I go walkabout around the summit and, upon viewing the apparent monument from various angles, find that the artificial intent underscoring what we have here soon becomes all too obvious, the grass mantle no longer sufficient to deny the insight of a somewhat wonky prehistoric antennae now tuned to more-or-less the correct band width. Hey, just needed warming up a bit. Furthermore, albeit with some not inconsiderable effort, I manage to identify some stone subsumed beneath the turf and thus satisfy any lingering doubts. This one is a ‘grower’, as they might say. If ‘they’ were ever to venture up here, of course.

Note that not everything is rosy here. The cairn is unfortunately bisected by a boundary fence. Furthermore, the summit area to the east isn’t exactly the most aesthetically pleasing in all Wales. Nevertheless this is a memorable place to be, even when lashed by periodic weather fronts, alternating with washes of golden light. A wild, uncompromising location seemingly divorced from everyday life ‘down there’ by some currently unquantifiable, additional dimension yet to trouble the scientists. Although to be fair Mr Hawking has probably already considered it. Whatever it is. As if to emphasise this sense of apparent ‘other worldliness’ a fox comes ambling by... sees the intruder.... tarries a while to check him out... then duly buggers off on his way again with a carefree ‘skip’ worthy of Father Dougal McGuire. Ha! Nothing to fear from that muppet, methinks...

As with neighbouring Domen-ddu, the west facing vista is quite superb; haunting, even, when perused at length under an ethereal September sky. A suitably expansive panorama for contemplating the sheer nebulosity of any notions of the passing of time, even those within scope of human comprehension. Or something like that. Maybe, on a much baser level, it’s just damn beautiful. Inspiring, even?

Pegwn Bach rises to the approx north-north-west surmounted by an obvious – therefore presumably significant – ‘Tumulus’. Further ‘Cairns’, not to mention serried ranks of wind turbines, are visible upon Pegwn Mawr beyond to the north. What with the Fowler’s Arm Chair monuments located about a mile to the east it is clear quite a few homo sapiens called hereabouts ‘home’ back in the day. Yeah, word on the hill is a lot was goin’ down back a few mill. Consequently strong walkers, or perhaps those content to spend less time sitting about than I, might consider expanding their itinerary to include the whole lot in one fell swoop?

But then again, in my opinion at least, there is a lot to be said for ‘sitting about’ upon hill/mountain tops.

[visited 4/3/18] Out on a hike up Hurst hill, I remembered on my way back I’d never actually found this cairn despite walking within 100m of it many times. So, with the aid of the images on here and some rough guesstimation I found this really good condition small cairn. Turns out I was always the other side of a slight rise and even when I’d climbed it I was looking for a circular bank not a mound, should have checked the images earlier!

This is a really good condition cairn, seemingly untouched by robbers, antiquarians or farmers. The mound is poking out of the peat and has a clearly defined kerb about a metre or so up enclosing a 2-3 metre space. I wonder if there is a second kerb under the peat defining the bottom of the cairn, I poked about a bit but couldn’t see anything obvious. Looking at the previous pictures on here I think the peat may have denuded a bit over the last 15 years or so.

The views are really good and before the trees went up you would have had a great view of pikestones and round loaf, this mound lying between the two. Also a lovely vista all the way round the eastern end of anglezarke, winter hill and then onto the lancashire plains out to the sea.

Access is good for Anglezarke, however it will probably be boggy underfoot depending on the time of year. You’ll need to cross a couple of stiles and the cairn is just off a footpath.

The hills to the north of the Rhayader, lacking the tourist foci of the Elan Valley Reservoirs to the Mid Walian market town’s west, may fairly be described nowadays as being ‘somewhat off the beaten track’. Nevertheless, rising to as near-as-dammit 2,000ft (1,923ft at Pegwn Mawr) and crowned by numerous Bronze Age cairns, not to mention those enigmatic ‘tumuli’, this lack of popularity is a veritable blessing for those Citizens Cairn’d willing and able to satiate their curiosity by donning boots. Hey, no incoherent, clueless tourist sightseers to shatter that all important upland vibe with mindless jibber jabber... as Mr T might observe with characteristically unconcealed distain: “Hey crazy fools! This ain’t no ‘old pile of stones’ but the dawn of civilisation! I pity the fool who thinks otherwise!”

However I must confess to knowing nothing of this pleasant state of affairs prior to blundering north upon the B4518, upon experiencing my (hitherto rock solid) resolve to set foot upon the large round barrow at Ty Lettice (SN99026866) blown asunder by ludicrously heavy rain on site. Yeah, ‘ludicrous’ even for Mid Wales, that is. That’ll be bad, then. But here even clouds without silver linings can have beneficial consequences.

So, riding along in my automobile.... with no particular place to go, the day is fast disintegrating into a big, fat nothingness when I’m struck by the impressive escarpment profile to my right as I pass through Pant-y-dwr. Noticing the downpour seemingly having abated I pull over and check the map.... whereupon Crugyn-Llwyd appears to offer a potential solution to Chuck’s perennial, not to mention best selling conundrum. But in these conditions? What new lunacy is this? The meteorological ceasefire is maintained as I tentatively navigate the minor roads eastward to park a little south of farm buildings at Garth (where the straight road beyond Bryn Hafod turns sharply to the right to eventually lose its tarmacadam in apparent homage to Owain Glyndwr, near Esgair Fedw). I opt to forgo following in the former Tywysog Cymru’s boot steps – if, indeed, yer man ever came this way – instead heading steeply uphill through trees to the south-east... to be seduced, in short order, by a nice, green track to the right of a fence line... retrospectively determined to be heading roughly east instead of the planned north-east. Spying a substantial cairn crowning the high ground some considerable distance across the Rhyd y Clwydau Brook to the south I realise I’ve gone wrong. As is often the case with my lamentable map reading. However opportunity knocks. Why not visit Domen-ddu and loop around to Crugyn-Llwyd later. If I’ve got enough puff? It’d be rude not to try, to be fair.

The intervening ground is rough, the monument – in actual fact there are two – occupying the 1,814ft summit of a southern spur, bounded to the east by the forestry-clad flank of Cwm Llygod and to the west by the abrupt line of the escarpment edge. The cairn noted earlier (at SO01697826) is indeed impressive, Coflein citing dimensions of “...23m by 13.1m and 2.3m high...” [J.Wiles 02.08.02]. Furthermore, a little to the north at SO01687828 there is a “..circular, flat-topped mound.... 18.6m in diameter and 1.0m high”. Two for the price of one, then.

So, the archaeology here upon Domen-ddu is worth writing home about.... should you happen to have relatives who give a monkey’s about old piles of stones and earth set upon obscure Mid Walian hills lashed by the inclement elements of September, that is? OK, not very likely, is it? But technically feasible, I guess. However, as is often the case with these upland monuments, it’s where they decided to erect them that truly matters, the real reason to put oneself out to come here. Hey, perhaps some metaphysical force told the Bronze Age architect “Build it and they will come. Albeit it not very many of them.” Yeah, the topography is truly special, the sweeping vista westward quite exceptional in my opinion, the vibe equally so. Whether Pumlumon (Herself) is looming upon the far north-western horizon is a moot point since, with temporary cease fire rescinded, multiple weather fronts sweep along the Wye Valley to give me the proverbial periodical pasting. Potential visitors might be interested to learn that, somewhat bizarrely, there is currently a little wooden seat set overlooking the drop to the west. Carpentry? Is there no end to Kevin Costner’s talents? Aside from trying to play Robin Hood.

As I sit and contemplate ‘stuff’ – as I confess I’m apt to do when in these uncompromising environments liable to banish common place notions of everyday existence from my head – Crugyn-Llwyd beckons ever more emphatically to the north. I duly assess the situation... hmm... a small deviation from my return route back to the car. Yeah, guess I don’t really have a choice.

I’ve been to the Rudston monolith a couple of times but never made it to Willy Howe before. It’s in the big orange book so it’s on the list. I’m killing two birds with one car journey here, been to the Bridestones, now it’s time for Willy, or William as his mother demands.
I’ve heard of unhelpful farming types round here, so it’s with some trepidation that I leave the daughter in the car not far at all from the mound, right next to a sign saying private road keep out.
My first impression was, wow how big is that, quite big is the answer.
Clearly the best time of year to see it properly is now, ie February.
I correctly align the mound in between the farm and myself and assail the mound.
I’m getting a bit tired of calling it a mound, it sounds far too simple, the countryside is truly cluttered with what the map calls tumuluseses, but this isn’t one? Has Willy never been properly investigated? I shall refer to the mound just as Willy.
Having climbed to the top of Willy, I can see the two scoops taken out of Willy, the scoops are very big, rendering the true height of Willy open to question, has material gone or just been piled up to the sides.
All over are small chips and lumps of white stone, is it chalk or limestone ?
One side of Willy has blankets of Snowdrops over it, surely spring can’t be too much further away.

I quite liked it here.

Very close to the road.
Not far from the High Bridestones.
Loads of stones.
Stone rows that aren’t in rows.
Not a bloody clue whats going on.

This has been a long time coming, that’s for sure. Right at the very beginning of my stone hunting odyssey I was aware of another Bridestones, far away in North Yorkshire. My Bridestones is the burial chamber near Congleton by the way.
North Yorkshire, five miles south west of Whitby, Aubrey Burl calls it a grim windblown region, I’d go a bit further and call it a hopelessly dead environment, mind numblingly devoid of any character, stupid grouse gurgling go back at me all the time. There are good places, I know for sure, it’s just these featureless moors, I cant stand them.
But I do like stones, so here I am.
My car has been in the car menders three times to have the over heating problem sorted out, so far we’re doing OK, the car is parked at the side of the road with daughter staying wrapped in her blankets whilst I go off into the cold to see the stones and wow it is cold, windy, bone freezing cold. Aubrey, after telling how it is, goes on to say that the stones here are possibly the ruins of two stone circles. One of which could be a four poster. The tall stone with rusting coins crammed into it’s crevices is the sole standing survivor of said four poster. so I can agree with that. But the other stones, I can not fathom them at all. A stone row perhaps, who knows.
But the Low Bridestones a couple hundred yards slightly north of west steal the conundrum crown right off the head of the High Bridstones.
Both the High and low Bridestones are not very far from the road at all, much closer than I’d have thought going off the pictures alone.
In all, I prefer my Bridestones, but you’ve got to see them all to know that.

Visited 7 March 2010.

A visit to the “Three Castles” of Skenfrith, Grosmont and White Castle with some friends includes a walk up Edmund’s Tump (Graig Syfyrddin), a prominent hill in eastern Monmouthshire. A lovely spring day, a bit of a chill lingering from a cold morning, the mud still firmly frosted. From the hill, an impressive view stretches west across the Monnow valley to the Black Mountains, but the real draw for me lies nearer at hand in the form of the wedge-shaped Ysgyryd Fawr, an outlier of the bigger hills, sharp-crested and solitary in its elevation above the valley. It looks close enough to touch.

After leaving White Castle, a hasty plan is made to climb Ysgyrd Fawr before the light fades. We park to the south and make our way through woods to the steeply rising ridge. The sky is a deep blue, the ranks of hills, ridges and mountains themselves hazy in powder and periwinkle, ice and Delft.

It’s cold on the top, the summit is exposed to winds that didn’t register down below. The views are wonderful though, I watch a couple of planes leave their high altitude vapour trails, the only mark on the otherwise flawless sky. There’s little to see of any hillfort, although scant remains of the later chapel are discernable. But coming here isn’t really about the archaeology, it’s a matter of location and landscape.

It’s not long since I climbed the neighbouring Blorenge, a first foray to these South Wales peaks. By now my appetite is properly whetted and I long to visit the hills I can see spread before me. I won’t be waiting long.

[Visited 18/02/18] I’ve been looking for an excuse to pop up here for a while, so a power walk bit of exercise seemed perfect. I went up the side of winter hill hoping to spot the small cairn on the north edge of the top, but I wasnt sure which of the humps qualified. This one didn’t have that issue...

This is a large cairn still clearly defined, with the remains of a kerb on the southern side. The builders making use of a natural knoll to make two sides appear much bigger. The modern pile of stones on top has been flattened slightly since the earlier photos on here and I think is just spoil from the robber or excavation pit in the centre. I had a close look at the possible cups on the large stone nearby, I’m thinking natural due to lack of definition and irregular shape, but the light was very poor. If the stone was standing I think it’s been flat for a fair while.

All in all a nice barrow, worth the effort. Access would be easiest from the old road which goes round the bottom off the hill following easily navigable paths.