Latest Fieldnotes

25/12/2015 – Managed a quick bob up Moel y Gaer to see this hillfort on a wet Christmas day. Luckily the rain had stopped for the short time we were there. It’s a nice fort and the location and view is very good. Worth a look and not too much climb.

If visiting Barbrook 1 then this is a must....but surely found by anyone following the path from the latter looking at the wealth of cairns on either side. Those who leave the path as I did and do some fieldwalking may well find even more – the odd stone pointing through the turf or not even that, only a faint bump. Just how many are there? Certainly a visit when the bracken is dormant will pay dividends. Anyway, back to the circle: as with the opinion of others, if this is a rebuild then I’m all in favour. Yes, I did prefer it to Barbrook 1. I do not know the extent of the rebuild, but feel that this is a reused structure anyway..not now a stone circle in the conventional sense, but perhaps at was at one time before infilling between regularily spaced larger components, though even these are mostly less than knee high – as per all bar one of this circle’s neighbour. These, though, seemed of more regular shape, and, of course, may possibly date in their positioning from the rebuild. Whatever the provenance, come here. Early or late in the day you’ve a fair chance of solitude. I wandered around alone in the dusk, exploring the neighbouring cairns, looking for more hidden in the heather, the sound of a waterfall on the wind, red grouse and ring ouzel for company. Then, back to Barbrook 1 for some flash photography, darkness shrouding whatever further delights Big Moor holds, thence back to the large layby, now deserted bar my Fiesta, then tagging on to the rear of a caterpillar of red lights that made its way back to Sheffield in the shrouded mist and mizzle. A good antidote to the Christmas ‘jollities’. One of those ‘aah, needed that’ experiences. I understand why those in the past wanted to live there. So much to see with so little legwork. Make the effort

The number of times I’ve driven along the A621 over the last twenty years and not known the delights of the moor alongside...coming from Sheffield you’ll see Minninglow on the horizon, so near yet so far. There are laybys either side of the road, well used at the weekend, even when the weather is pretty foul, like it was when, finally, after looking at the OS, I decided this would be the destination for much needed post-Christmas solo perambulation and stone therapy. I’d no idea that there was a stone circle so close to home. Through the fresh painted white gate, late in the day, passing a few groups of people making their way homeward in the mizzle. I was the last outward bounder, had the muddy track to myself after a few minutes. As per the increasingly damp map, there was the circle, or at least the tallest stone, visible up the slope to my right, with path leading to it. I became aware that the entire area was covered with cairns..what a place. At the circle the tallest stones current offerings were a trio of spent shotgun cartridges, while a neighbour sported a plastic reindeer. This wasn’t the Nine Ladies.. though the path indicated plenty of visitors none wanted to paint or carve. Plastic reindeer welcome. The very modest size of the stones mattered not. A fine setting, and so many other sites, recorded or not, within sight and under foot. Try visiting before the bracken and grass grows – so much more visible in the bleak months. Has the vicinity really, really been properly fieldwalked? Be sure to visit Barbrook 2 close by, and wander round the other cairns, and, if time, explore further. ‘Sites within 20km’ above reveals more a few minutes walk away, but fading light precluded that for me, but if there was nothing else apart from this circle I’d still want want to return, and will. My jobs are only a few minutes away, and on summers evenings what a place to wind down afterwards. I WILL be back. Recommended.

Well..this was an adventure. Prompted by studying OS Landranger 82 I thought it worth a mooch, which in the end proved more of an endurance test. However, no regrets. A 7.5 or 8/10 site certainly as far as ambience.....Turning off the B738 I drove seaward down the sweet rough road to Meikle Galdenoch with its indicated car park. OK, outside the scope of this forum, but I defy anyone not to fail to admire and photograph the adjacent castle. Small, yes, character huge. Anyway, back to subject. Point number one: the map is wrong. There’s clearly never been a way to the coast that starts as indicated. The true course starts on the other side of a farmyard with buildings either side. Understandably the farmer would appear not to want casual visitors venturing here, and there is a footpath sign pointing in the opposite direction. Dutifully I followed the track indicated for a short distance till a gate blocked the path. On the other side: cattle. Lots of them. Fortunately there was another gate to an adjoining field of stubble separated by a wire fence, so, over that, and following a parallel course towards where the footpath was indicated on the map. This was doubly a good move, as a fine bull made its presence known. The footpath came into view.. it was in fact a fenced unmetalled track. Once again, though, when I got to the nearest fence progress along it was barred by the presence of aforementioned bovines the other side of a gate across the track. Fortunately though, there was an identical means of avoidance and further progress in the form of another gate on the opposite side of the track with pasture beyond, once again separated from the stock by a wire fence. Same procedure as before, follow the fence westward till the field’s end. Entering the cattle’s field was unavoidable, but only briefly. Over a gate, then over another adjoining one which crossed the track. Metal between me and the bull and harem and, finally, progress as the map indicated. Phew, about time. I walked along the track with a forestry plantation to my right, shortly found a small quarry with forlorn abandoned digger, and then skirted a small loch with an unusual octagonal wooden building landward and small jetty with chairs on opposite. The farmer’s place to chill, doubtless. Onward seaward... and damn. The track curved round northwards, while the map indicated the footpath I wanted headed due west, through a gate to another field of pasture. There: more cows, another bull. Yup, more swearing. Bugger was justified. I followed the track hoping for another way. On my seaward side – this now in view and an incentive that my goal wasn’t too far away – was an unfenced area of uprooted gorse and sedge. It looked a bit of a obstacle course, so I didn’t attempt to cross despite the sea and a possible clifftop route being beyond and continued along the track, realising that as I did so I was walking away from my target. After a few minutes I gave in and headed towards the sea, over a barbed wire fence and turned south along the clifftop. Fine views and geology, yes, way to the fort, no. An unclimbable deer fence, which in any rate had a sheer drop feet from the other side. I climbed over the adjoining barbed wire fence into the uprooted gorse as a shortcut back to the track. I’d given up, wanted out, knew there were other sites nearby. I followed the deer fence uphill towards the track. After a bit the deer fence stopped and headed at right angles south. A normal sized wire fence replaced it. Lo and behold, there was a little stile. If ever there was a morale booster. Over that, enthusiasm returned, as I was heading where I wanted to go. I followed the deer fence southward along the edge of a field of barley. Then more cattle came in sight on the fence’s seaward side. Deer obviously a past enterprise. They saw me, and all ambled unhurriedly away. I became emboldened, and carried on despite seeing that my way was blocked at the far end of the field by another fence. Over that, I could see from the map, should be the footpath. All the cattle walked slowly past me and headed off uphill inland when I got to the fence. It felt like a miracle, a reward for perseverance. I was surely only a few hundred yards from my destination, still out of sight, tantalising. I hoped it would be worth it. After making sure the cattle were all well out of the way I climbed over the fence, footpath rejoined. Seaward it became undefined, but I could tell from the map it followed the top of a bluff. The shore came into view, and then.....the remains of the fort. No mirage. Most importantly, not a disappointment. Canmore does a far better job of describing it than myself. Yes, greatly robbed for other buildings associated with salt manufacture and farming, themselves now gone, but the fort’s foundations remain, a bleached white ghost. It had obviously been a fair size. I paced it out, but forgot the dimensions subsequently. Iirc approximately thirty five paces east to west. My photo’s should give the gist. Despite its depleted state it was the best preserved site I’d found thus far on my D&G wanderings. I liked it there, and the view down the coast was another attraction. Kemp’s Wark at Broadsea Bay and Killantringan’s dun were both in sight – see photo. The latter was my next planned destination, so after a good potter it was time to retrace my steps. No cattle in sight, thankfully. Over the fence, back along the edge of the barley field to the stile and then, this time, uphill through that uprooted gorse and high sedge wilderness. Others may prefer to hug the barleyfield’s fence when toing and froing from the stile should bovines demand but the going wasn’t too bad. Anyway, you never know what lies hidden by gorse.. our forebears appreciated its defensive merits while we today curse it. I beg to differ. Two roe deer jumped up, alarmed, and I watched their white rumps bounce away with greater agility than mine. After a ten minute yomp the track was regained, and from then on the return was simple and stress free. I knew what I was doing, where I was going. how long it would take. It was a fine blue sky evening. I photographed a raven and buzzard hunting in tandem, soaring over the stubble. A steady plod saw me back at the car, with a sense of fulfillment. The stubborn head had won and been rrewarded. Definitely a place to return to. During the summer and autumn months it’s bound to be lucky dip as to which field has stock, but winter and up to mid spring should see the stock indoors and a clear run. Yes, worth the effort, and you’re very unlikely to see another soul if solitude appeals, as it does to me. Back at my campsite the owner, a long time resident, said she’d never made it down and she didn’t know anyone who had. I have, and am far from superhuman. I hope the directions herewith in the event of bovine presence will encourage others.

This is my most visited site..a dozen times or more. I love it here, standing on top, looking across to the Isle of Man, the Lake District, Whithorn, Snowdon on a very clear day, and the Irish coast...... watching the birdlife, the resident roe deer, the seething high tide, and, after dark, the beam of the adjacent lighthouse sweeping overhead. To find, just drive south from Stranraer till the road ends. Half an hour non stop, but see how many times you stop en route for scenery and sites, not least the superb triple banked linear earthwork, increasingly believed to be Iron Age, that you pass through near your destination. Park in the car park north of the lighthouse, visit Gallie Craig, the great eatery – with loos – cum travel centre and emporium, walk towards the light. The cairn is on the skyline, left, as you approach. As Canmore – ID 61039 – describes, it’s been knocked about a bit. Until recently there was a flagpole atop. Two watertanks have been incised into its western side. This site is symbolic, and deserves an entry in TMA for this if no other reason. Like so much of Scotland’s ancient archaeology, degraded by the millennia and man, but still a prescence, battered but unbowed. It is the country’s most southern site. ‘Just’ a cairn... but a nation’s archaeology starts – or ends – here.

Visited 7th August 2015

Machrie Moor is nothing less than one of the megalithic marvels of Britain. Within the protective embrace of the surrounding hills the moorland harbours a wealth of fine stones, and the whole area is like some sort of pre-history park.

It almost resembles a showroom for the types of megalithic monument seen across the land. Walking over the moor I can almost hear the monologue of a Neolithic salesman;
“Ooh looking for the latest in contemporary design, well just step this way! Now here we have your traditional style stone ring, very popular nowadays, and room for conversion if you fancy an en -suite burial cairn, whilst just along here we have the more chunky boulder-style of circle with interior ring, very handy for resting your cauldron in if you’re of the giant persuasion. If sir is on a modest budget let me show you the four-poster, compact and suitable for all ritual needs, or if you really want to make an impression how about using some really tall stones…” the scope and type of monuments you will see here is unprecedented.

As with all moorlands things can get a little bleak in poor weather but today we are blessed with bright sunshine and the rain which has plagued us throughout a week in Dumfriesshire has blown itself away. There is still evidence of the recent wet weather though, as Carl mentioned in the previous fieldnotes one of the circles has temporarily turned into a marsh, although this only seemed to add to its magical atmosphere, the deep spiky green grass poking through the water providing ample perches for dragonflies, which continually buzzed around us during our visit.

The good weather has brought out the visitors and a steady stream of walkers cross the moor, the little car park at the start of the walk filled to capacity, but there’s plenty here for everyone, and some solitude to be found if you want it.

There’s not much more I can add to Carl’s excellent previous fieldnotes, funny to think he was here only the week before!

Soaking up the wonderful megalithic atmosphere of the moor, the blue sea shimmering behind us in the distance, time slips by quickly, and like a fine malt whisky Machrie Moor needs to be savoured and so we’ve elected to spend most of our day on Arran here, despite the wealth of other lovely megalithic sites in the area.

When I first visited here fifteen years ago I was totally blown away, it was the first really ‘premier league’ site I made a pilgrimage to after getting Mr Cope’s big orange book, and further opened my eyes to the prehistoric wonders that were out there. I still feel the same being here today as I did then, this really is somewhere very special indeed. Until next time Machrie Moor…

On my walk from Slochmill to Crammag Head to inspect the dun at the latter, indicated by the OS map, I encountered a fine turf covered Galloway dyke en route. As I know such features can be of great antiquity and as it was curved, starting from the clifftop south of Crammag Head and ending near the clifftop on the Head’s northern side, and also as it had what may be a ditch, I was tempted to submit it to TMA as a dyke. What has made me change my mind and classify this site as an enclosure was what appears to be revealed by the aerial photograph that I found online after returning home, which is accessed via a link, below, to these fieldnotes. I advise making a paper copy of this image. At the time I did not notice anything unusual as I passed through the northernmost of the three entrances through the dyke – the middle one being the largest and roughly knocked through perhaps to gain access when the lighthouse at Crammag Head was constructed. The long grass was bumpy in places, but I thought nothing of it. Finding the photo changed all that. If studied carefully there would appear to be well over a dozen circular features of varying size which may be hut circles or the remains of their drip trenches. These are most heavily concentrated at the mid point of the dyke and away from the cliff edge. Only excavation for want of a better aerial image would confirm this. Note how, on the left hand side of the image, the dyke ends where it reaches the Mulrea Burn a short distance before the latter commences its steep descent to the sea, thus providing a point where water could be obtained by man or beast within the bounds of the dyke, and also note the southernmost or right hand entrance through the dyke near the coastguard lookout station, and the staight path or causeway running from this entrance – or exit – to the stone circle, visible as grey – white dots, which is the subject of separate TMA fieldnotes – via the ‘sites within 20km’ facility at the top left of this page. From what I have read subsequently hut circle size increased towards the end of the Bronze Age, so, if the circular features are of this origin, the image may be an indication of sustained occupancy of the site commencing at an earlier date. Another image of the enclosure showing the circular features on the seaward side of the dyke is attached as a link to my fieldnotes for the TMA entry for Crammag Head’s dun.. once again, accessed via the ‘sites within 20km’ facility herewith. Date of visit 3rd October 2015.

Having visited Crammag Head’s dun and then found what may be either a stone circle or setting while fieldwalking inland I started to head back to my car at Slockmill. Within a hundred feet of leaving the circle I realised I was walking upon the upper rampart of three of what I assume is a hillfort. These encircle a raised outcrop covered in gorse, and are for the most part are obscured by this. The three tiers of ramparts of the length that I was able to fieldwalk are connected not by ditches but by level terraces. I had found another example of a level terrace on the southerly side of the promontory fort up the coast, Kemp’s Wark. It is possible, though, that any ditches had infilled over time or that this is an incomplete structure – one image herewith showing what look like ramps between the tiers perhaps supports this. Ramparts may perhaps have been thought unnecessary on the western side owing to the presence there of a high stone outcrop. There is another example of a triple-tiered fort nearby, believed Iron Age, at nearby Kirkmaiden, called Core Hill. The stucture of the latter has been badly damaged, but the triple arrangement is discernible through stock erosion on its eastern side leading to the exposure of three bands of fine rocky material. Another example of a triple arrangement may be found down the coast at the southernmost of the Mull of Galloway earthworks, increasingly believed of Iron Age origin. Based on these similarities I am tentatively dating this site to the Iron Age also. An image of the eastern side of the fort showing the line of the ramparts also herewith. I did not attempt a full circumnavigation and fieldwalk due to my injured leg, but am reasonably confident that the large gorsey outcrop is almost completely encircled by earthworks after subsequently finding a photograph taken from the south from the much higher cliff fort at Dunman, which I have placed as a separate link, below, to these fieldnotes. The presence of only a single rampart in the vicinity of Slockmill stone circle – or setting – may be due to this western area being the entrance to the fort. NB, I named this site Slockmill fort after failing to find any reference to it on the internet, including Canmore, in order to distinguish it from the dun at Crammag Head, which some believe to be a fort also due to site reuse. It therefore seemed correct to ascribe the name Slochmill to the stone circle at Slochmill fort’s western base, and, due to aerial photographic evidence – see the entries for the stone circle and Crammag Head dun for links – showing a direct pathway or causeway and entrance connecting the stone circle to the circular features, possibly hut circles, within the neighbouring enclosure bounded by the dyke, name this feature similarily too. The name Crammag is not, apparently, known locally in any case. Should these sites already be known and named so be it. An aerial image showing the fort and its position relative to the enclosure and stone circle can be found as a link from my TMA fieldnotes for both – accessed by clicking on the ‘sites within 20km’ feature at the top of this page – in addition to the image linked to my entry for Crammag Head. Date of visit 3rd October 2015.

I had visited Crammag Head to explore and photograph the dun there, and had on my way found a long, crescent shaped turf covered Galloway dyke of obvious antiquity. This and the intriguing gorse covered outcrop nearby prompted me to do some fieldwalking subsequently. After first inspecting the adjacent abandoned coastguard lookout station I then noticed nearby a small exit through the dyke which on close inspection, looked an original feature. Passing through this I made my way up the sloping terrain towards the outcrop and then climbed it as best I could. Part of its summit and surrounds were covered by gorse of sufficient density to deter further exploration, and I therefore descended, but by a slightly different route. Walking southwestwards towards a field fence to get a photograph of nearby Dunman with its sensationally sited summit cliff fort I then found at my feet something that I had never encountered before.... poking through the turf by only an inch or two was an arc of four or five flat topped stones which were equally spaced to what seemed geometric precision. I then became aware that this arc was part of a circle as other stones were exposed in places, and little mounds indicated that more probably remained in situ just under the turf. I then realised that other exposed stones outside of this ring were part of another, surrounding circle, and that further exposed stones without the latter ring indicated yet another, larger surrounding circle. What I had found was tri-concentric. I stepped from stone to stone round the initial, inner ring that I had encountered, and found that by stamping my feet as I did so that indeed most if not all of its non-visible components remained in situ hidden under the turf. Maintaining an equal pace proved that all components were evenly spaced. A megalithic yard? My estimate is that this inner ring comprises fifteen or sixteen stones, giving an approximate circumference of the ring of 45’. The distance between this inner ring and the middle ring of stones and the latter and outer ring was approximately five feet in both cases. I did not do a test walk round the circumference of the outer rings, but I could see from such exposed stones as there were that, once again, they had been placed with geometric precision, but did not establish if there was a radial linkage with the inner ring. I photographed – in retrospect not nearly enough – trying to absorb this phenomenon. Initially I thought that it was the degraded remains of a cairn, but then discounted this as there was no evidence of spoil in the surrounding area, and also the inner ring, being on a slight dome, should have had most damage, whereas in fact it seemed the most visibly complete. One of my photographs suggests faint traces of shallow ditches between each ring, not noticed at the time. Photography using a drone overhead may reveal the true nature of this site much better than I was able to. The best definition I can think of for it is a tri-concentric stone setting – it doesn’t fit the conventional notion of a stone circle, even though it is circular with stone components. None of the proscribed TMA definitions when adding sites to the database are really appropriate, so this site is a circle by default...the most accurate description from those available. This site is an enigma......sacred, ceremonial or astrological function I know not. It may even be unique. I hope that other more experienced and learned minds will be interested enough to want to discover which. In view of their proximity there may be comparable sites in Ireland or the Isle of Man... but from what reading I’ve done there’s nothing comparable recorded on the latter. What I do know though, through subsequent discovery of online aerial images – see link below – is that there is a direct physical connection to the Galloway dyke and the enclosed land beyond in the form of a straight path or causeway of which some stones appear to be visible, leading from the gap in the dyke that I had come through straight towards the centre of the site. This path or causeway appears to have faint traces of a ditch at either side from dyke to circle and that these ditches appear to surround the outer ring of stones and meet each other thus enclosing the entire site. The presence of this causeway would, like the absence of spoil, point towards this site not having been a cairn. On close study of the aerial photograph linked below to these fieldnotes, which is accessed online by clicking on the red ‘Photographer’s Resource’ wording – I advise making a paper copy ‘in case’ – it is possible to discern well over a dozen circular features of various sizes on the seaward side of the dyke, none of which being apparent as I made my way to my initial destination at Crammag Head. It is feasible that these features are hut circles, or remnants of the drip trenches thereof, and that therefore there may exist here in the hinterland of Crammag Head both the remains of a settlement and a contemporary physically interlinked circular feature of unknown function. I will leave it to others to find out and confirm. It could be that both are related to the earthwork westward, on the landward side of Crammag Head’s stone fort or dun. Some authorities appear to believe that the dun is of later date than the earthwork. Of indeterminate date though, is the hill fort, the three ramparts of which I then found poking out of the gorse at the bottom of the NW side of the aforementioned nearby outcrop as I made my way in my already somewhat taken aback state back to my car at Slochmill, for which, like this site and the enclosure there are separate TMA fieldnotes – see the ‘sites within 20km link’ at the top of this site’s webpage. I have checked at length online and there appear to be no records for either circle, settlement nor fort. Quite a day: I would always advocate fieldwalking the vicinity when visiting known sites as you never know what you might find, and remember to look down as well as around – there is a lot more out there.......... NB: As this site is so hard to see till you’re on top of it, apart from walking up the causeway feature perhaps the best alternative way to find it is to follow the wire fence that runs from the coastguard lookout near Crammag Head light uphill towards the rocky outcrop. As you approach the latter you will see a metal gate in the fence. When reaching this, head away at right angles a few yards, and you should start to see the stones at your feet. Make what you will of this place.. archaeological investigation is surely metited. Site visited – or discovered? – 3rd October 2015.

I parked opposite the two houses by the entrance to Slochmill Farm, and then made my way to the start of the footpath leading to Crammag Head, as indicated on OS 82. This turned out to be accessed by slipping round the end of an out of kilter iron field gate. Thence the track leads eastward to a rather overengineered bridge crossing the Mulrea Burn composed of two heavy duty concrete slabs, and then becomes undefined thereafter, but follows the course of the burn. This part of the walk was an absolute pleasure, listening to the burbling water, with iris and primroses along its banks, which must be beautiful sight in bloom. I had not done any research of the site beforehand, and had, based on such information I could glean from the map, thought that the dun was on top of the large gorsey outcrop that was ahead of me. It certainly looked a good place for a defensive position, so I headed off the illdefined path towards it. At that point I saw a dogwalker who, when I called over to her for confirmation, pointed me not to the outcrop but over the brow alongside it. As I crested it the top of the lighthouse at the Head came into view. There was still no sign of the dun, but what grabbed my eye was nearer. I had never seen one before, but, having an interest in walling, knew what it was immediately: a turf covered Galloway dyke. Like Cornish hedges and the field boundaries of West Pembrokeshire these can be thousands of years old. It curved round in a crescent from cliff edge to cliff edge, and had what was either a ditch or depression caused by centuries of stock erosion. I could not tell which, but was sure that it’s structure and form alone merited mention in TMA as an archaeological feature. Dykes, sacred springs and holloways do, to me, deserve equal note as other archaeological features. There are other things apart from stones, forts and cairns. I was very intrigued and took several shots. Still no dun though. I carried on walking over the verdant and bumpy grass towards the lighthouse. Where was it? Through the gate to the light. There was a cresent shaped degraded rampart encircling the outcrop the light was built on, obviously ancient. Some of its structure was exposed by stock erosion. I photographed away, but was aware that it was not what I had come to see. Where on earth was it? The puzzlement increased. I approached the stubby light on its concrete plinth.....and then became both aghast and incredulous. There, at the western side of the plinth, was a curved foundation structure of large stone blocks. The lighthouse had been built on top of the dun. I expored what remained, then descended some steps to a structure that may once have housed a foghorn. Turning to look southward along the cliffs is an experience I shall not forget. I knew that there was a fort on top of neighbouring Dunman, and had intended to go there. What is in no way possible to glean from the map is just how stunning the sight is that awaits you. I know of no finer setting for a cliff fort than Dunman’s. The ramparts are on the skyline, and its westward edge is a drop over four hundred feet to the sea. My superlatives are inadequate. I stood looking for a while, trying to take images that did it justice, then retraced my steps to the gate. A clifftop sheeptrack towards Dunman beckoned. I went some way along, enough to make me pretty sure it went all the way there. My leg injury from broching dictated otherwise. 2016. Please. Back to the gate. Near it was an abandoned two storey lookout station. I climbed up its steps to its viewing platform. How I would love to buy it for a few grand and bodge it into habitability... what a view to Dunman and the light. Dreams... I then descended the steps and decided to do some fieldwalking inland, prompted by finding the dyke and that still intriguing gorsey outcrop. What I found deserves separate mention, suffice to say that a walk across Slockmill’s farmland to Crammag Head’s dun is a walk through history. Even if there was no archaeology there whatsoever it is still necessary for that view and probable access to Dunman’s fort. But there is.... See separate site entries for Slochmill enclosure, stones and hillfort. Canmore ID 60437. Date of visit 3rd October 2015.

Just a mile or two west of the better known Llech y Drybedd, Trellyffant is not a middle earth megalithic beast but rather just a muddle of large stones.
I parked the car on the small lane to the chambers east, but it would probably be easier coming from the north after asking at the farm, if it is a farm, it has no living space. Either way it is only a five minute walk.

It was beginning to get dark, and after a long day stone watching this was the last place on my list. It had stopped raining, but low mists still clung to the distant Preseli hills, and the day long mugginess persisted.
But a new site is a new site and I was excited to finally get here, despite the site being more or less a pile of large stones.
The capstone is still held aloft, but is it being held up by the right stones? Two large boulders are still I think in the right place, but the rest is pretty much a confusion.
My camera has had a long day as well, it doesn’t like the wet conditions, and it’s never liked working in low light, so I put it away, don my cloak of invisibility
and walk back to the car wondering where will my next outing be to, an old favourite?, or a new site, near or far, soon or again far away.

One of those sites I’d meant to do on my previous visit to this side of Luce Bay in ‘14 but got tripped up by ‘busman’s holiday’ garden visits. I’d made it to Barsalloch, but not here. So near yet so far. A return to Barsalloch first, a contemplative chill and bask there, then, yes Wren’s Egg, I’m on my way. I parked in Monreith and went across the fields to Blairbuy Stones first – see fieldnotes. The Wren’s Egg and Nest called me in. Through the open gate with lady at farm’s ready approval, then up the slope to the Wren’s Egg and attendant smaller stones, sadly unmentioned in the name of this place. Like Barsalloch, I was it seems, having read his notes subsequently, following in CARL’s wake. Woof woof, pitter patter, widdle. Same impression as him and Postie. Bloody nice place, especially on this blue sky autumn day. Why, why, why don’t more people make it here??? Ffs, latitudinally it and MoG over the other side of lovely Luce Bay are south of Carlisle and Newcastle. The A75’s a fine drive, a Euroroute even, and the A747 from Glenluce is even finer. Come. Please. Anyway, rant over. I circled the Egg, then had a look at the two stones, checking the alignments with those at Blairbuy. Snap, snap, snap. Then, as is my wont, off for a fieldwalk. I headed east away down the rise to check on the alignment of the Small Stones – they at least deserve capital letters – with the Egg. Then walked further away towards the the N-S field wall with its belt of trees behind, and farm buildings beyond them. As I approached the wall something in it caught my eye....... TWO ADDITIONAL STONES...... I have walling experience, and looked at what was before me from a structural, non fanciful perspective. I was adamant that the stones in this wall were in situ, but in light of info recieved now accept that they have been probably placed there in more recent times... however they are of the same shape and distance apart as the two by the Egg, and align with it. The wall has been built around them, and at present the ground level on the ‘Egg’ side means they look very squat, but I am confident that they are of the same size as the Egg’s attendants, should a test excavation take place. Further stones from the site, displaced? I stood and looked at them for a bit, and had already decided there was more to this place than met the eye. Back up the slope to Egg and Stones for an alignment double check, then I decided to have a good look, circle and scramble over the oak covered Nest. Exposure by stock of soil and stones on it makes it plain that it is not a natural feature. What it is, pass, but.... not natural. Like the strange gorse covered conical mound by Terally Stone and the identical gorsey conical top to the outlier at Kemp’s Walk, I’d love a ground penetrating survey out of curiosity. I carried on round the Nest, circling its perimiter anticlockwise, looking at the bare soil exposures and pretty uniform small rocks within. Under a tree on it’s western side between about a third and half way along I found a large stone in the long grass. It had a fine, laminated structure, running from top to bottom. Something caught my eye again.. the light was right. There were about eight lines of long horizontal incisions on the lefthand of its ‘field/W’ side. Each line had other shorter cutmarks leading off from it, either at right angles or at an angle. Convinced then that this was made by human hand, I now accept Tiompan’s judgement that what I had found were ploughmarks. It just goes to show how the inexperienced can be decieved. At the time though I confess I was a bit blown away after finding this stone in addition to the other two. Drumtroddan and more awaited though. My last day. Back to the open gate, and I thought I’d walk along the road back to Monreith. After a few yards walk along it I thought I’d get some more Egg pics and leant against the field wall. I looked over the wall to my right. Two further stones, resting against each other, incorporated in it. On the ‘road’ side of the wall they don’t look much, on the lower, ‘field’ side they are revealed to be the best part of five feet long. Uprooted Wren’s attendants? They are visible in this TMA image: themodernantiquarian.com/img_fullsize/126593.jpg Look at the left hand edge of the left hand stone, then to the field wall beyond. Two whitish lines therein. Another, possibly, to their left. While stamping back the grass on the road side of the wall to take some pics of the stones, herewith, a couple approached with their dog. She was a local, and had never noticed what I’d found. We had a natter, and I told her the purpose of my trip. She then told me about some carved and cup and ring marked stones locally, “plain to see when I was young, now covered in nettles and brambles”. Oh, how I wish I’d had the presence of mind to ask her to point out their location on the map in my hand. I have not checked others Blairbuy fieldnotes yet, but, there may be yet more to find and record around here. I have read on preceeding fieldnotes Julian’s assessment of this place as a ‘protoneolithic temple’. Too right, Drude, too right. NOW will someone else come? A fine, intriguing and undervisited site.

This is a site that my visit did not do justice to...one of those victims of my ‘it’s not dark yet – time to squeeze one more site in’ syndrome. I know that I am not alone in this though. It was the end of the first day of my Galloway, and, having first been in birdwatching mode and spent a while on the Scaur on Loch Ryan’s Wig Bay watching the oystercatchers and wheeling golden plovers I realised it was high time to start going to sites, the prime reason for my visit. Dunskirloch – Corsewall to the OS – and Dounan Nose were revisited after first being there in 2014, then, as the sun was setting I thought I’d give Portobello a go..it’d been on my hitlist last year but the round tuit intervened. It’s not far down the coast from Dounan. Off I went. Down the dead end road, west towards the sea. The road became unmetalled past the last inhabited house, but was ‘doable’ in my little old Fiesta..only a couple of big watery ruts to carefully negotiate, until the driveable bit ended by a derelict croft on the right hand side. There was ample room to turn round. That’d do. Onward westward on what was now a grassy farm track, until a leaning rusty gate in an extreme state of decrepitude was reached, wire either side, wire supporting. I knew it was permissible to venture further thanks to a list of beaches and directions at my campsite, the excellent North Rhinns Camping near Leswalt (I WILL be back. Second visit in ‘15). The farmer’s cool about visits, and the council are due to put in a new gate. So: don’t be deterred. I scrambled round the gate and over its accompanying wire. Straight ahead my goal was visible. No cows. The fort is on a promontory, the southern side of which drops to Portobello beach. I did not find a finer sheltered landing spot on my entire trip. To our forebears this place must have been a ‘des res’ for that reason. If there was no fort here I’d still say go regardless. Like Dounan, Broadsea Bay (Kemp’s Wark), Killantringan (dun) and Ardwell Bay (Doon Castle) it is an excellent site to visit if with family perhaps less enamoured by archaeological sites. Low tide paradises. Back to the purpose in hand. Oh to have read Canmore beforehand. Yes, I ‘think’ I found it, but the light was fast receeding. I had seen enough to put the place on my ‘must return to’ list. A good vibe. I attempted a few shots and retraced my steps, meaning to return in the following few days. As I got to the rickety gate a short eared owl flew from an adjacent roofless croft’s gable. It was the night of the full Supermoon, which hung over the further croft where my car was parked. More low light blurry clicking. Bye Portobello, I like you. Back tomorrow perhaps, or day after, promise. Sigh. Promise not kept. 2016. Off to Morrisons in Stranraer to stock up on stuff, raid the reduced for quick sales. Then, dammit, footloose, on holiday.. carpark mapread...dammit, I’m off to Knock and Maize for a quick bit of flashing. I blame that full moon. As an update, I’ve now found that it is permissible to walk south along the coast from Portobello to two further nearby forts at Strool Bay and Juniper Rock, both apparently worth a visit. Can’t wait.

Seven years ago I came here in high summer and though I loved the little dolmen I was frustrated by all the thick abundant plant growth, so, seeing as Ive just won round two with Parc y Llyn which is less than a mile away I decided to have another sit down with the Altar.
Driving north through Colston the place came up quicker than I was expecting, I actually remembered the bit of road that goes past the invisible dolmen, a million miles of roads traveled and I can recognize a blank country lane by nothing more than the hedge and a passing place. I parked north of the site by the high gates, climbed over them and wobbled down the slight hill over the uneven ploughed field.
I arrived at the chamber and felt gratified that I could see all the stones quite clearly, including the quartz boulder that I presume is part of the original kerbing. But just to make sure that when I photographed the stones they were as free from tangled plant blight as possible I brought my big scissors and set about the place removing as much weedy clutter as I could.
Under the capstone is still full of earth, is it just part of the bank the dolmen is now half incorporated into
or could it contain archaeological stuff. The dolmen looks like it’s struggling out of the hedge, any minute now it’ll topple out before me, like an embattled stonehunter struggling through head high gorse.
I don’t understand how they could have put the road so close to the stones, they were just a few feet from destroying the whole thing, the fact that the chamber has survived at all should be applauded, nay celebrated.
With no car parking worries this would be a place to sit and wonder for a whole afternoon, I can imagine sitting on the cap stone and not being interrupted all day, apart from the occasional traffic just a meter away. But where such a parking place would be I haven’t a clue.

Visited: september 6, 2015

Dun View is well named: it certainly has a great view over Dun Maraig in Poll Loch na h-Ealaidh bay.

Rated as a possible dun by Canmore, it sits atop a 30 metre knoll just back from the north shore of the bay, above Cuidrach House.

It is a severly ruined structure with few if any foundation blocks remaining in place. It can be accessed in 10 minutes from the road leading to Cuidrach farm.

Seven years ago I tried to have a look at this dolmen but was forcibly restrained by a big herd of cows, I managed to get a picture, on full zoom of what I presumed was the burial chamber. But it wasn’t enough, if you don’t get to lay hands on to the site, it goes on to the next time list, and if you fail that next time, then it goes on to the next, next time list, this was that next, next, next time. Blimey.
I parked at the entrance to the bridal path, no worries though because it’s all far to overgrown now to get a horse through, who am I Roy Rogers ? I don’t know what a horse will or wont do. Either way I parked there and bushwhacked my way through into the mercifully bovine free field.
The big capstone sticks out like a saw nose (thumbs can go in pockets so therefore don’t stick out much) so I tramped across the field to say Hylo.
The capstone is large and rippled like a turtle shell, possibly a Leatherback, it’s that size. It’s fallen on one side at the front, the side stone has slipped outwards. There is room to have a look under the cap stone towards the back, almost down on my knees and peering in the flash from my camera reveals a back stone that is as flat a stone as you can think of, it is unfeasibly flat. There is also a hollow area where it looks like something like a fox has been resting up, it certainly looks dry under there.
There are hints that more structure may exist in the large thick hedge but I could see not one thing. It has stopped raining now, so I thank the god responsible for rain cessation and move on to the next dolmen, The Altar.

Take second right hand turn when leaving St Davids on the north part of the A487. When the small lane bends to the right there is a quick parking opportunity on the bend. There may be more conscientious parking by the farm. Fortunately my conscience is on my side so we squeezed in on the bend and leaped over the fence.
The stone is just 30 yards from the car.

What a great stone.
It is tall, wide, slim, and pointy, lichen on the top.
Don’t like farmers fields.
The stone has two sides, both have recess like grooves on them that look artificial but probably aren’t. Looking down from above the stone is wedge shaped, the thin end of the wedge is sharp enough to slice through paper, the wide end is curved rather than flat.
I didn’t stay long, a price to pay for sneaking about maybe, but ive got bigger fish to fry, a fish called dolmen.

I’ve been wanting to come here for at least a decade and i’ve been trying to find a way down all year long, it took birthday money to do it in the end.
En route by 5am, I saw a standing stone and a couple of hill forts on the way, the way being 160 miles long, but this is the place i’m heading for most. It is one of three burial chambers I want to get to, places I’d had to put off till next time, but next times are nowadays hard to come by, too few and too far inbetween, so every now and then you have to push it, sleep and food must become secondary thoughts.
If only the King had taken a page out of my book.
I will exercise some restraint in further musical related puns.
I parked in the car park that I assume is for the hoards of tourists that must flock here on more sunny days, only old photographs assure me there are more sunny days, as it is I steel myself against the precocious elements and trudge, in a lonely manner, up the hill towards the farm.
The farm track right angles to the right and from here I can see the stones across the field, they are somewhat reassuringly further from the farm house than I thought. The farm track though is another matter, it might double as some kind of slurry canal, collecting it from over several fields and channeling it into a wide reservoir, map says it’s a footpath, it looks more like a lake of shit to me. I wade through it, it’s not as deep as it seems, the bottom is obviously not visible. I pass by the farm house and walk up to the stones thankfully leaving the farm behind, but not the effluent quagmire, not until i’m in the grassy enclosure with the stones does it get not muddy. This is really one of the worst placed farms i’ve ever seen, it’s like they leave the place in an utter mess on purpose, it’s enough to make you die on the toilet.
That’s not true, either way.
Firstly I cram myself under the capstone, mostly because it’s the done thing but also to escape the stinging sideways rain, incessant is the word, possibly spelled wrong, autospell is an American.
The still standing chamber is interesting enough but the other is more interesting still, I’m not sure it’s collapsed, I think it’s supposed to look like that, it looks like a recumbent and flankers, but could more likely be a type of boulder burial with two stones kind of containing it. An earth fast burial boulder like at Perthi Duon at Angelsey.
Despite the farm, shite weather and just the shite, everywhere, I stayed too long, I might have to add one of the places on my list to the other list, for next time.
God I’m hungry, deep fried cheeseburger will cure that.
Postman has left the farmyard.

There are two forts here right next to each other, this the western one is much larger than it’s counterpart.
Starting from the car park once more, it is not far to the main entrances, three ramparts there are on it’s east side, each growing in size as the higher ground is gained. The path passes through the first rampart which is very slight and grass/fern/gorse covered, the second bank the path passes through is more discernible, to the left of the path some stones protrude in sparse patches, but on the right the stone spread is considerable and reaches off into the distance wrapping itself around the contour of the hill.
The top most rampart is very impressive, again it is more grass covered on the left side of the path than on the right.
Once in the fort proper I naturally head straight for the trig point at the top, it is still raining, mist comes and goes, as does the outside world, the wind is the thing though, it is so strong I have to cling onto the trig point for safety, without it I would surely have fallen to a head crunching finale, it was like an actual malevolent force definitely trying to pull me off.
This is my third outing in crap weather in a row and I’m seriously beginning to question the validity of supernatural beings.
I scramble down spiderlike from the top and hide for a while in a WW2 gun privy, from here I can see the western wall, the wind is most absolutely wailing now, there is one spot upon me that is no longer waterproof, a chink in my impervious armour has appeared, I found out while sitting down.
The western rampart is similarly as impressive as the eastern, and again it runs from outcrop to outcrop. Back towards the entrance I decide to climb another outcrop, ostensibly to view the entrance ramparts, but from up there I can see the southern wall, once more running from outcrop to outcrop, if it is a law of fort building amongst rocks they followed it fastidiously, even the banks below the inner entrance ramparts do it, had it been a clear day I may have also been able to see Ysgubor Gaer another fortlet thingy far below, so close as to be part of the same place.
A fantastic fort in what I have been reliably informed is a pretty area. Three times ive been to Strumble and not seen the sun at all.

There are two forts here right next to each other, this the eastern one is much smaller than it’s counterpart.
There is a very convenient car park between the two, so I start the walk up to the small fort from here in less than convenient rain and howling wind.
It is only a short walk up hill, before you know it your there. There wasn’t any defences on the western side of the fort at all, that I could see. The southern side of the fort is protected by outcrops and near vertical cliffs, from on top of which a great deal may be seen, near and far, but today only the near views are out, windy winds are making it a struggle to stand up. Looking down on the small squarish fort the rampart on the east is the best preserved part of it, the entrance is here.
The eastern rampart is a pretty good wide spread of stones faced with large boulders on it’s inside, with a well defined entrance in it’s centre.
The north side has a linear spread of stones, but I could only see it on the other side of an impregnable layer of gorse, damn stuff.
Below the rocks on the south side of the fort in the corner a row of rocks seems to cut off one corner of the fort, I offer no conjecture, only stating that they are there.
Why are there two forts so close together, they must surely have been allies, the big impressive entrances of both forts face east, much musing ensues.
Anyway, it’s time to tackle the big one across the road.

The last time I tried to get to this stone I came at it from the more secluded northern side but this proved a futile and fruitless task. But this time I am armed with the knowledge of failures past, and not just mine, I looked for the small blue garage on the north side of the road, next to a gate, I looked through the gate as I gangland style driveby’d, though not armed with illegal firearms, but rather an intent curious and determined eagles eye.

The frontal assault.
No sneaking round the back, no distant views, no stopping at the gate.
I parked up the road and walked the hundred meters or so back to the gate, I was mindful of the houses across the road, but ultimately I ignored them, does a landowner live there? who cares? we’ll soon see.
Quick as you like I’m in the field and striding confidently towards the stone, whilst at the same time trying to avoid excessively boggy areas, it’s been raining for hours so bog outnumbers dry 3 to 1.
No body came.
It is perhaps interesting to note what Coflein say about the site.......
Parc Cerrig Hirion is a monolith 2.1m high. A second stone, perhaps a natural boulder, was illustrated in 1875 and removed about twenty years before 1966. A possible stone pair, this stone is not the Lady Stone.
This is not the lady stone your looking for.
I wasn’t looking for one.
Is 2.1 meters about 7 feet? the stone is taller than me anyway, that’s a good gauge as to whether a stone is big or not. In profile it looks like either the Fish stone or a flint axe.
Nice stone.

While at the site, check out the apparent symmetry of the markers forming the outer (stone) circle. This appears to have a north-south axis, and I suggest that the gaps were measured. This can be appreciated from a suggested model (overall schema) in the Plans section.

I had visited so many sites on my trip to Galloway, this would be categorically the last. It looked very near the road on the map, I just needed to have an antidote to my experience at Torhousekie Stone Row... my fieldotes for there give the details....somewhere to stand, take a deep breath and reflect. A wind down and quiet finale to my adventures over the preceeding eight days in this sumblime and underappreciated part of this island of ours. Hole Stone and adjacent White Cairn got the short straw. My headlights were on as I drove, I took a wrong turn, then had to stop a couple of times to check the map on the road that should take me there. A farms namesign by the road told me I was close, the geography lined up with the maps contours, then I made out a faint pale grey blob in a field on the left hand side of the road. It had to be White Cairn, Hole Stone had to be nearby. I parked, climbed a little bank by the road, leant over the wall. There it was. I wanted to go to it, take some closeup flash photos as I’d done at Knock and Maize and Terally, but knew I could not. On the horizon there stood a large number of cattle. No. I crossed the road to the other side of the road where the vantage point was better. At least I could take some zoom shots. The hole in the stone was visible despite the poor light, and the stone itself looked redoubtable, and quite large compared to most I’d visited. Three shots without flash, then a rumble. The entire herd of what turned out to be about forty bullocks charged down towards the stone, carried on past it till they reached poor, denuded, nettle surrounded White Cairn, then wheeled round and returned to their starting point. I don’t think they’d even seen me, but even if so I’d already decided my quest was impossible and had seen enough to know that this site deserved a visit in good light. There would be another time, if permitted. Enough.....home.

Visit Torhousekie Stone Row and you have to visit Torhousekie Stone Circle..and vice versa. Whether they are contemporary chronologically I know not, but they are duo. Little and large. Ish. The same layby for both. Through the little gate on the east side of the road...the stone row’s on top of a rise, you don’t have to search for it. I approached and as I walked a herd of cows came into view. Most were a few hundred yards away, and the few nearer, initially hesitantly inquisitive, ambled off to join their kind. Cud and grass more interesting than prat with a ponytail. I eyed them with caution nonetheless. They had been an almost constant factor throughout my trip. At Cairn Pat near Stranraer I’d not got within half a mile of the site, I’d not liked the look of the bovines in front of me, a voice inside said ‘no’ and I’d taken heed. At Fort Point I’d been extremely circumspect but, hunch correct, no problem. Bulls were an automatic no, apart from at Caves of Kilhern, where I hadn’t spotted one till my return leg. These ones looked OK. Onward. Mind the pats. The three stones looked bedded down for the night against the the last rays of the setting sun. I moved round to their eastward side to get silhouette shots, only achievable by lying down due to their short stature. The cowpats just about permitted, their creators, heads down at distance, munched away. I got what I wanted, circled round them, took in the stone circle, listened to the sounds of its visitors happy chatter as they posed and took their pictures, looked at the horizon and land about and the late sunset’s glow. Trip over. I turned to go. Supper, tent and drive home in the morning. I walked slowly down towards the car. Then I heard a rumble. Turned. There were about twenty cows coming over the rise. Running. At me. I was being charged. It is an interesting experience. I looked round at that little gate. It was too far. I knew I wouldn’t make it. I froze, then realised all I could do was face them and hope. Run and I feared they would follow, and overtaking and its consequence would be inevitable. I made myself look as big as I could, stood four square, looked straight at the head of the herd. Whatever would be would be. On they came, then as the leaders passed the westernmost stone they wheeled round it, perhaps fortyfive feet away. Surreally as the leaders did so I said to myself ‘it’s like Ben Hur’, meaning the chariot race in the Colosseum, where the speeding vehicles had wheeled round 180 degrees at each end of the central barrier. It felt like I wasn’t there, watching on a big screen. I then knew I was safe, spared. I turned round and the stone circles visitors were still there, prattling away, happy, oblivious. I stood quietly, and then, anger overtook me. Anger at myself and at at the cows. I didn’t want the end of such a great holiday to be like this. Bloodymindedly I retraced my steps to the stones. The cows were back where they’d been, heads down, munching as if nothing had happened. I stood and pointedly took a couple more shots, trying to do likewise. Then a bull appeared in the distant gloaming and promptly proceeded to fulfil its function. I walked back to the gate as unobtrusively as I could, got into my car and thought. Sometimes you think that something’s going to turn out one way and the opposite occurs. Torhousekie, I decided, would not be the end of my site visits and holiday, whatever the light. I looked at the map. Hole Stone looked ten minutes drive away. Goodbye stones, goodbye cattle. I was still alive and would do something I loved. Onward.

When planning my trip to Galloway I had resolved months previously that Torhouskie and the adjacent stone row would be the finale...on my visit to the area in 2014 I’d driven within a couple of miles, but, being more focussed on garden visits I’d not done much research beyond scanning a map and tourism website or two. Cairnholy 1 – Torhouskie 0. No regrets about Cairnholy... a ‘must’ for anyone even vaguely interested in stones, and Cairnholy 2 was subsequently my HH avatar for some time... but having subsequently researched more about other Galloway sites I felt chastened that Torhouskie had been overlooked. No mistake this time. It had been a gorgeous final day of site visiting.... Barsalloch, Blairbuy, Wren’s Egg and Nest.. where fieldwalking had revealed things other than what had been expected or recorded, Drumtroddan, Rispain. Now, with the sun dropping to the horizon and a dreamed about sunset in prospect in minutes, everything had fallen into place. I had reached my goal, and the photos I’d hoped for a click away. I had not met any other site visitors all holiday, had places to myself, absorbed, photographed without heads appearing over stones or popping out from behind them, such a contast to my visit to Callanish in 2012. A holiday of solitary bliss. Apart from f**king my leg broching that is. I parked in the small layby adjacent, through that little gate. I had not looked at any images beforehand, and had not either realised or remembered from reading how small the stones were. Sunset shots would have to be achieved by lying down, contortion or a combination of the two. The fence surrounding the site is far too constricting, my only criticism of this place. I circled the stones within the fence, climbing up on its western side, trying to get as much of the sunlit side of the circle into shot as possible...holding my camera and smartphone above my head, hitting and hoping. In retrospect this was the one site where photography had way too much precedent over absorbing, chilling. I need to return as an act of contrition. I even forgot to pat. A cow over the other side of the fence stood looking at me balefully while performing its bodily functions while I teetered atop the wire. Fair comment, perhaps. Now for the artyfarty contrejour. I moved round towards the gate, laid down on the manicured grass, looked at the red sun on the horizon perhaps a little too long, got my silhouettes..such was the closeness of the fence that I could only get three stones in one shot in front of the smouldering orb however much I pressed against the wire. I felt I had done my best. The stone row awaited on a rise over the other side of the road. I closed the gate and as I got to the other side of the road a car drew up. Visitors. I had missed them by under a minute. My site solitude record remained intact. Thank you circle, thank you sun. Sometimes things work out.