Latest Fieldnotes

From Belliduff I headed south on the B954 and then took the first minor road heading west. Take the first minor road south west. Near the end of the long straight the mound can be seen in the field to the north. I parked at Auchtertyre farm and walked back down the road. With all the rain the field had become a mudbath so I squelched merrily along to the mound with sound affects.

The mound is 10 meters and 1.5 meters tall. Trees have been planted on top. The wall that is meant to surround the site seems to have vanished. Wonderful views north do exist but they were obscured by heavy snow.

Visited 2/1/2015.

Leave Meigle heading south on the B954. There is a wall on the west side of the road just after the houses come to an end. Stop at the first gap in the wall. The cairn is a very short walk from the main road on the other side.

Yet another bit of the Macbeth saga is found. (how many times did this guy die ? :-) )

The cairn stands at 15 meters wide and is 1.5 meters. Cists have been opened here and their stones might be here but there is also a lot of field clearance. It is heavily overgrown with a walkers worst enemy, bramble bushes. Still its a nice site with the various vegetation giving some wonderful colour.

Visited 2/1/2015.

I approached from the north after leaving Melgund and headed south pulling in at Carsegownie. Luckily enough the farmer appeared at the same time so permission to see the cairn was granted. I wonder if he did read Gladman’s note :-) Nothing much more to report except that there seems to be more field clearance dumped.

Visited 2/1/2014.

Head south west from Brechin on the B9134. If looking for nearby Court Law don’t bother it has gone. Keep going this direction thru Netherton and take the first farm track to Melgund. I parked at the junction to Melgund Cottage.

The cairn is in the field immediately south. I walked first to the cottage and was given permission to view the site. In an area with lots of big cairns this is no exception, it sits at 30 meters wide and is 2 meters high. There doesn’t appear to be a kerb. Quite a lot of field clearance has been dumped here as well. Still the trees add to atmosphere as does the fort at Bogardo to the south west.

Visited 2/1/2015.

First stop and daylight pokes its head out near Brechin at Kintrockat Cairn. During the drive down there had been heavy snow and very heavy rain but when I park at the woodcutters hut the sun comes out. The snow I’d see later.

Leaving A90 take the A935 to Brechin, go round the roundabout until you are heading back to the A90 south. Just before reaching the A90 take the minor road heading south. This takes you past a lodge, I parked at the woodcutters place 200 meters approx south. From here I continued walking south and followed the road to Kintrockat House. Just before the house there is a track, or mudbath. Follow this round and the cairn will come into view. Unfortunately the woodcutter has been busy and branches are all over the place some on the cairn itself.

This well shaped cairn is almost 9 meters wide and 4 meters tall. It is made up of earth and stones. Local folklore mentions that markets were held nearby. So a lovely start to the day.

Visited 2/1/2015.

Driving along the coastal A894 from the lovely (cairnless) chambered cairn at Badnabay I happen to glance up to my left upon passing the shore of Loch an Daimh Beg, a little south (ish) of Scourie.... to see what appears to be a large cairn surmounting the near crag. Pulling into a handy lay-by beside a gate in the deer fence, a quick fumble for the map confirms what, in these parts anyway, has come to be generally accepted wisdom, at least where I’m concerned; namely it’s a pretty fair bet that a large pile of stones will turn out to represent a chambered cairn. To my shame, exhausted by the day’s exertions and with time advancing inexorably toward night, I momentarily consider passing on by, like a motorised Dionne Warwick... or The Stranglers, if you prefer. Happily, in retrospect, I pull myself together in the nick of time. Good man.

The gate accesses a stony track heading initially for Bealach na h-Imrich. And then goodness knows where? Gaelic names upon the map. The monument is soon forthcoming, crowning a small crag above to my right and appears pretty substantial, albeit now very much part of the landscape it was no doubt once erected to stand apart from as a statement of intent. Perhaps. As usual Audrey Henshall had the details back in 1963, the cairn of Orkney-Cromarty type with a diameter of c40ft and a small (apparently) polygonal chamber, entered from the north/north-east, defined by four orthostats subsumed within the summit, their tops nevertheless still visible. So, quite a substantial monument with internal detail still in situ.

But there’s much more to this site in the form of some quite magnificent views, particularly looking south across Loch a’Chreagain Theth to the enigmatic profile of Quinag upon the skyline and... I think.... even the legendary Suilven. While to the south-west the eye is guided by the contrasting, yet aesthetically complementary contours of land and water across Badcall Bay to a myriad islands and islets occupying the inner reaches of Eddrachillis Bay. Looking north-west the map depicts a hut circle upon the far shore of Loch an Daimh Beg, several other examples apparently set below the cairn to the approx south-west. East? I’m reminded of the hauntingly barren waterscapes of North Uist. Quite an accolade, to be fair. Oh for more time.

As it is a truncated visit must suffice. I watch as several cars arrive at the hotel in Lower Badcall... whilst I will sleep tonight in the company of young stags above Loch Lurgainn. Guess one day the hotel will appear attractive. Not just yet, however.

This, the barest bones of an Orkney-Cromarty chambered cairn – yeah, very much minus the cairn nowadays – is about as far removed from the great Balnacrae seen earlier this trip as perhaps my imagination will allow. And, to be fair, I can imagine quite a lot. Sitting unobtrusively near the coastal A894 a little west of Laxford Bridge, the monument is nevertheless beguiling.... small, yet perfectly formed might well be an apt description.

According to Audrey Henshall (1963), as you might expect up here on this wild ‘n windy coastline, fifteen orthostats (apparently of wondrous gneiss) remain in situ, the tallest a modest 3ft 8ins in height. These form a two sectioned chamber (the outer rectangular, the more substantial inner, oval) originally accessed by a portalled passage some 7ft in length to the south-east.

Now although the chambered cairn occupies a low-lying position upon grassland beside the Traigh Bad na Baighe, the outlook presented to a weary, yet well satisfied traveller chilling out within is certainly expansive, the plaudits (in my opinion) going to the view looking eastward toward the distant summit of Sàil Mhór, with Foináven to its left... also north-east across Traigh Bad na Baighe and Laxford Bay, colours muted by the overcast light subject to occasional irradiance as the evening sun refuses to submit to bland uniformity. Although, having said that, the elegant profile of Ben Stack looming above the little hamlet of Badnabay to the south-east is pretty fine, too. Such is the nature of the topography here that aspects toward the other points of the compass are more localised, craggy hill sides the order of the day.

As I sit and drink my coffee a muciferous slug, riding a trail of seemingly unparalleled viscosity, makes its laboured, slimy way toward the top of the tallest chamber stone. ‘Al’, as I duly christen it – being ignorant of how to determine the sex of gasteropod land molluscs, but pretty adept at the morals (or rather lack of them) of politicians – doesn’t quite make it. A portent of the future, perhaps? Whatever the ultimate outcome of human conflict instigated by the egos of such people – whether cyclical fluctuations of the political status quo, or death and destruction by armed conflict, for me locations such as Badnabay place things into some sort of context. We may come and go, but when all is said and done Nature will carry on sorting the good ideas from the bad according to her selective algorithm. Hmm. Writer Neil Gunn (his memorial encountered at Heights of Brae) would no doubt have been able to elaborate upon this theme better than I.

Time flies and I must move on in order to achieve an Inverpolly wild camp before dark. Needless to say such are the archaeological riches of this magical coastline that that proves a very tall order. Cnoc An Daimh sees to that.

N.B: my thanks to TMA contributor ‘tumulus’ – Martin McCarthy – for highlighting the existence of this excellent site through:
ancient-scotland.co.uk

Megalithically-minded travellers immersing themselves in the landscape and lore of auld Alba .... perhaps searching for that special ‘something’ a little out of the ordinary, somewhere off the beaten track... might well consider perusing Greywether’s collected field notes as an appropriate introductory well of inspiration. And why not, when monuments of the calibre of the great Balnacrae chambered cairn are included within that canon? I’ve wanted to come here for several years now; had the map co-ordinates ready and everything. Nevertheless, I guess the extended approach – allied to the possibility of an unclimbable deer fence making all the effort superfluous at, quite literally, the final hurdle – put me off. However, having spent a memorable morning at the Heights of Brae chambered cairn, wondrously sited looking across to the Knock Farril, an expedition – for it is such – to Balnacrae suddenly acquired that rather overused classification of ‘must visit’.

A minor road heads west from Evanton approximately tracing the line of the River Sgitheach – to the fast flowing watercourse’s north – passing the hamlet of Swordale before running out of tarmac just south of Milton Lodge, beneath the wooded heights of Swordale Hill. I wouldn’t say there’s plenty of room to park since, according to the occupant of the house when I duly knocked upon his door, the council own the road’s terminus, as evidenced by a stationary dumper truck. Please bear this in mind if you come. Anyway, I head off along the private, rough track toward Fannyfield (great name... assuming you’ve a sense of humour and actually understand what feminism is about, of course), veering right at the buildings to ascend to a forestry track heading into the trees... as such tracks tend to do. Ignoring an initial left hand fork apparently accessing the river, I make swift progress, trending to the left and ignoring all right hand turns until a final section, resembling something from The Somme circa 1916, ensures every additional step extracts the maximum effort, a full-on obstacle course of fallen trees and head high gulleys. Eventually I reach the aforementioned deer fence, the exhausted traveller separated from the boundary line by yet another deep gulley... needless to say the most cavernous yet! The track veers to the northwest toward the ruined farmstead of Balnacrae... however I chance my arm and find it is currently (May 2014) possible to cross the fence at this point to emerge upon the open hill side above Strath Sgitheach. Furthermore a row of stones crowns the rise to my right like a phalanx of warriors drawn up in battle array.... or a group of Easter Island moai pondering whether to ‘turn left’, as instructed by that dodgy satnav from that equally dodgy shop in Inverness. That’ll be the monument, then. And it sure is a big one. The warm glow of success lingers momentarily before it’s down to business once more.

As I approach (slightly) uphill my initial impression is that my homework must’ve been subject to a few too many sherberts since the monument appears to possess a very ‘linear’ profile, some variant of seriously trashed long cairn, perhaps? However a grassy, circular footprint of significant diameter subsequently says otherwise. As does the wondrous Audrey Henshall, who reckoned in 1963 that this is an ‘Orkney-Cromarty type cairn’... with ‘an edge, which suggests a diameter of at least 75[feet]’, this revised by the OS a couple of years later to c93ft. Morever the stones are very hefty indeed for a chambered cairn, ranging from 2’4” to 6’ 6” (dimensions again courtesy of ASH). And there are a lot of them, too, as if to compensate for the almost total loss of the cairn itself. So, why so many chambers stones? As with Greywether before me, the act of mentally reconstructing the now free-standing interior of this chambered cairn is easier said than done... beyond me, to be honest. Two chambers or one? Hmm. ASH reckoned the passage entered to the north-east; however aside from that, the great Balnacrae tomb is an enigma. Come here and see what you think?

I sit in the shade of one of the substantial stones – they offer quite a bit, to be fair – and try to reconcile how the brooding remains of this chambered cairn now slumber in complete and utter obscurity.... when the tomb must once have been the focal point of local life. The Maes Howe of the area, no less. However times have changed, have they not? For good and bad, I guess. No Ladytron back then, for a start. The location is not overly dramatic, but subtle and telling, the cairn occupying the apex of a (very loose) triangle incorporating the heights of Meall a’Ghuail and Cnoc a’Bhreacaich and focussed upon the River Sgitheach, arguably mirroring that of Heights of Brae mentioned earlier. Or most probably vice versa. The realisation that these people knew their landscape inside out is impossible to ignore. Hey, I couldn’t even tell you who lives a few doors up from me. As I said, times have changed.

I stay to enjoy the complete and utter peace here until I can linger no more, well aware that I’ve a bastard of a return in store and attempting it in darkness would not be good. So... if chambered cairns are really your bag be advised that Balnacrae would fall foul of the Trade Descriptions Act. There is but the trace of a cairn here. However if ancient stones help take your thoughts to somewhere you would like them to be... Balnacrae has more than enough.

Oh. Thanks to Greywether for the inspiration to come to this wondrous place. I would love more to come.

Coming along the Seatter road and turning for Noltland, opposite the junction with the road passing Greentoft, the long axis of a field mound runs parallel to the road you’re on. It is far larger than anything else this way, being over twice the size of all the other mounds, burnt or otherwise, in the area. The presently grass-covered slopes appear gentle to me. There is the faintest hint of a curve in the face towards the road, but rather than the vague crescent associated with burnt mounds the overall impression is that at some point it has had a huge chunk taken out. The rusty gate to the field stands between erect stones, the left one of which is atypical being so marvellously gnarled _ I have always found it strange that there are no standing stones recorded for Deerness, could this have been one ?

Pity about the use of the R word in the site description .
canmore.rcahms.gov.uk/en/site/25634/details/urlar/

Pity about the pics too ,weather was freezing and dull . With these trees so close no sun throughout most of the winter .

Looks just like a double walled hut circle .

So the final visit on Bractullo Hill or Labothie Hill or Bractullo Moor was another small but nicely situated cairn which can see both the Hatton and Hare cairns. Quite difficult to find, I thought, but my guide had no difficulties as we walked in a south westerly direction from the Hare Cairn. Sitting at 12 meters wide and 0.5 meters high as usual it has been dug into. Some kerbs appear to remain but they might just be simple cairn material.

With that it was head back to the car after an excellent afternoon walking all over whatever this place is called :-)

Visited 30/12/2014.

From Labothie head towards the fence and promptly walk west. This takes you the remnants of a badly disturbed cairn. It has been houked and battered. To add to it’s misery a fence goes straight thru the middle of it.

Still it must have been massive in its day. Today it stands at 25 meters wide and 1 meter tall. Scattered stones might be kerbs then again they might not.

Visited 30/12/2014.

The Labothie cairn is a bit of a mystery. Instead of one massive cairn it appears to be two similar cairns. Both are around 8 meters in width and 1 meter high. Both have been dug into and both have at least a couple of kerbs.

After some serious looking at maps and on Canmore’s own site we concluded that Canmore has got it wrong.

Very easy to find from the Hatton Cairn. Spy a rather fine and intact black pill box and head straight for it.

Visited 30/12/2014.

This cairn has also taken a bit of a beating but still has some kerbs in place. Still it is 21 meters in width and sits at 0.5 meters tall. The usual hillwalkers cairn sits in the middle. Various bumps and humps within the cairn are spoil heaps.

After taking the extended road e.g. getting lost, phone runs out of power, I finally made it to my guides house. Bractullo Muir and its several cairns was the venue of choice.

We pulled in at a wee car park near Carrot Hill and headed east on a track. Basically head to the top of the hill and the cairn can be found. Nothing difficult with this and nice scenery as well. Loads of birds of prey flying about was nice as well.

Visited 30/12/2014.

Not really much to see here except a badly battered and quarried barrow. However they certainly have found loads of discoveries hence the link.

Travelling north of the House Of Dun I parked at the entrance to the Fordhouse farm. Crossed the bridge over the Den Burn, nice walks here, and jumped the fence. You should practically land on the barrow.

Visited 30/12/2014.

Very easy to find this cairn is it is in the field in front of the House of Dun. Take the A935 west from Montrose and follow the signs to the House. The cairn is in the field and can’t be missed. Several wee information boards give info on the site.

It is 25 meters wide, 1.5 meters high and has a 12 meter flat section on top. Kerbs to poke their noses thru the turf. And as for the lintel left on top I’ve no idea what that’s for :-)

Visited 30/12/2014.

At 35 meters wide and 3 meters tall I would have liked to see how this place stood originally. Much damage has been done to east and south sides but it still is an impressive place. The trees seem to add to status and age here. Neolithic discoveries prove that this is a very old site. Built to dominate the skyline it overlooks the Montrose (River South Esk runs into here) Basin and Montrose but can’t really be seen because of the trees. However a fantastic place to build a cairn with excellent all round views, to the east the North Sea and the west has the Grampians/Cairngorms. So a significant place for a significant feature.

South of Montrose take the A934 west and park at the war memorial near Maryton Farm. Walk up the minor road in front, then after the first corner go over the gate and climb westwards. The cairn is at the top of the hill westwards.

Visited 30/12/2014.

Leave Kirriemuir on the B955 heading north east and take the first minor road north. Then take the 2nd minor road heading east, then take the next minor road west. This cairn is only 200 meters or so further along and is easily seen right next to the road.

It is an oval cairn measuring 26 by 22 and is over 2 meters in height. Plenty of cairn material sticks thru the grass but I didn’t see any kerbs. Cists have been found here and there is a hint of a depression on top of the cairn which probably marks the location of one of them.

Beautiful site set amongst beautiful scenery, Culhawk Hill dominating the view. The snow was an added bonus.

Visited 27/12/2014.

What a weird and wonderful place this is!!! Canmore say it is a kerb cairn but it looks like a four poster. People who know more than me can argue amongst themselves. It survives right next to the road near East Campsie farm.

Basically head north on the minor road at Airlie and keep going. Or the first minor road south after Lintrathen cairn.

At least 3 stones appear to be properly standing and a 4th appears to have taken a dunt. Several stones are in the cairn, which is around 4 meters in width, might be kerbs. An intriguing little place and worth a visit.

Visited 27/12/2014.

The last climb of the day proved to be the best and worst. Scenery around here is stunning, snow covered mountains to north, lochs north and south, superb walks near Lintrathen Loch and a cairn to finish. There the good news almost stops.

The fact that the cairn still survives is good but sadly it has taken one hell of a hammering. Robbed and multilated, further insult is added by the building of a small concrete block hut. Heaven knows what this is for. To the east all sorts of things have appeared another concrete thing, pipes sticking out of the ground etc etc.

Still it survives at 13 meters wide and 1 meter. Scattered rocks look like possible kerbs including one at the south side. But impossible to tell such is the damage. But yet it has the scenery which is a compensation.

Head east from Lintrathen church and pull in at the small reservoir. Luckily a nice stepped path heads up the hill. Keep going after the reservoir, go past the pile of field clearance and the cairn is over the fence. Easily spotted thanks to the wee building.

Visited 27/12/2014.

By pure chance I’d written down the wrong map ref for this (not the first time) and looked in completely the wrong place (a common nuisance). Still this proved fortunate as the farmer appeared in his tractor as I was climbing the fence half way up the Knock Of Formal and promptly said that the stone was next to my car.

The stone is now gradually getting covered in moss and grass. It might possibly be forgotten about altogether. Still the farmer has other ideas and wants to re-erect the stone at some point. So HS have been emailed with all the contact stuff so fingers crossed that they pull the finger out.

It is a nice shaped stone being over two meters in length and is a meter wide. Couldn’t see any markings once I’d cleaned the snow away. Hopefully the next time I come here it might maybe be standing.

Visited 27/12/2014.

You can find parking at Kilry school during holidays. Walk across the Burn of Kilry past the Standing Stone cottage and a wee path leads to the stone.

Set amongst the trees this is a beautiful place with the Knock Of Formal providing a wonderful backdrop. Add a touch of snow and frost and the atmosphere totally changes.

A good place to spend a bit of time being quiet to soak in the surroundings.

Visited 27/12/2014.

Unlike Nick I parked at the Bruceton entrance jumped the wee dyke and strolled down the slope to the stone. The carvings are now barely visible. Still another lovely stone in a lovely setting.

Went back up to the road and walked west to the Shanzie souterrain, which needed another look.

Visited 27/12/2014.

Wondrously placed upon the north-eastern shoulder of Moel Eilio, outlying sibling of the enigmatic Pen Llithrig y Wrach (Slippery Hill of the Witch, no less), this cairn-circle – for want of an official designation – simply couldn’t complement the nearby Hafodygors Wen ring cairn-cum-four poster any better if the pair had been designed as part of a unified vision. Which, seeing as the monuments are inter-visible, might not be as far from the mark as some other antiquarian-related musings I’ve undertaken in the past. Perhaps.

Now a brief perusal of the relevant 1:25K OS map suggested to me that a minor road heading approx west from the village of Dolgarrog would bring me within striking distance of the monument, that is in the vicinity of the Coedty Reservoir. Trouble is... I couldn’t locate said route – or at least a road I’d consider manoeuvring my car up (has it been closed to vehicles now?) – so continued to Tal-y-Bont and took the left hand fork from the Llyn Eigiau access road (refer Hafodygors Wen). Ah, Llyn Eigiau. Doyen of starting locations for serious expeditions into the uplands of Y Carneddau, it was a failure of its dam on 2nd November 1925 which, unleashing a torrent of water downstream to overwhelm the aforementioned Coedty Reservoir, resulted in the catastrophic deaths of 16 Dolgarrog residents. A poignant reminder of what can happen when humankind underestimates, for whatever reason, the sheer power of natural forces. Perhaps it is a subconscious recollection of these tragic events which colours my outlook with a slightly matt black sheen this morning as I park-up near Pont Newydd. Then again it could also be the driving rain and high winds? Possibly...

A bridleway heads uphill more-or-less southward above the reservoir, the erection of a new fence having unfortunately churned the landscape to a muddy morass. Nevertheless Moel Eilio presents a pleasing profile, albeit one soon supplanted as I clamber over a stile and advance beyond a cross-fence, by that of a hauntingly evocative hawthorn tree crowning the monument I’ve come to see. An example of natural and artificial aesthetics complementing each other perfectly. Harmonious synchronisation, you might say? Or maybe not. Perhaps that’s just the way I see things since the tree is as gnarled, windswept and in-your-face combative as any I’ve witnessed. A true survivor. The grassy, round cairn it surmounts – for it is indeed clearly a cairn – possesses a significant diameter, albeit lacking somewhat in height. A not insubstantial number of stones – I ceased counting years ago – demarcate the circumference. I hesitate to use the word ‘uprights’, since those upon the arc facing the towering bulk of Moel Eilio rearing above are recumbent, just what you would expect if incorporated within a retaining kerb. However others, particularly to the north overlooking the reservoir are, in comparison, relatively tall and surely(?) not placed with the intention of undertaking any load bearing. Consequently I reckon ‘cairn circle’ is a reasonable enough assumption in the circumstances.

So, here we have an impressive monument set overlooking the Afon Porth-llwyd, outflow of Llyn Eigiau and inflow of the Coedty Reservoir. Clearly the valley floor has changed quite a bit since locals gathered here to do whatever they had to do to keep favour with the gods back then. Not so, perhaps, the northern/north-eastern skyline with Tal-y-Fan’s serrated ridge and the serpentine meanderings of the Afon Conwy timeless constants, at least within timescales us humans would understand. Turning the Gladman gaze to the south-west another inexorable presence captivates and, inevitably, clears the diary for the rest of the day. Yeah, Moel Eilio. At 1,791ft it is not a major player in the area, not by a long chalk. However if I’ve learned anything from an adult life spent seeking out the unusual, the obtuse... the interesting.... it is that a peripheric viewpoint can often provide unexpected insight.

And so it proves with Moel Eilio. To be fair the ascent from the cairn-circle is short and, notwithstanding the fact that I tend to struggle with steep climbs nowadays, without much of a bitter aftertaste, the retrospective view looking down upon the monument vindicating the exemplary vision, the sheer appreciation of the landscape inherent within its prehistoric architects. In my opinion we could learn so much from these people if only we adopted a similar outlook to living upon, being a part of, this planet. Although, with several millennia of scientific learning under our collective belts, you’ll excuse me if I decline a belief in supernatural agency. We can all do without hubris. Anyway... I reach the crest of the mini-mountain and suddenly the going becomes just about as difficult as it could be today. Deep, trackless heather. Clearly not many people come this way, then? The summit (unmarked – why no burial cairn here?) is eventually attained and the high (mostly) Bronze Age cairn adorned summits of Y Carneddau crown the skyline in serried array beyond. The ‘playground’ – or perhaps more accurately ‘assault course’ – of my youth somehow now appears to generate much more profound emotions when viewed from a distance in a similar plane. Perhaps that is because I have nothing to prove to myself, at least physically, so the mind is more perceptive? Or then again maybe you have to take a step back in order to truly appreciate what is there before you? Hard to explain. Obviously.

I force my way through the heather, slightly downhill now, to eventually overlook the ancient settlement at Moel Eilio. Again, the isolated trees emphasise the way in which our ancestors could suss out the landscape.... the tribe elder no doubt declaring ‘this is where we will live... good shelter’. Carnedd Llewelyn, possessing the highest surviving burial cairn in all Wales, rises above the shattered rock pinnacles of Craig Eigiau, the latter likewise looming over the hauntingly melancholic breeched dam of Llyn Eigiau. Sunlight spills from the brooding cloudbase and sweeps across the floor of the cwm as if in mimicry of those events almost a century ago. My attempts to capture such an intense vibe on ‘film’ are doomed to failure, not least since the sheer velocity of the wind renders my camera tripod almost superfluous. Jeez, it is bad. But what the hell! I’m alive!

I return to Cae Du and spend the last half hour before dusk watching the setting sun illuminate Tal-y-Fan... as if it was the star actor of a drama randomly played out at the whim of the clouds. And there can be few better seats in the house than this cairn-circle.

Lovely stone in a lovely setting. The snow and frost certainly add to the atmosphere around this re-erected stone. I parked further along than the two other fieldnotes (first wide bit in road after the lodge heading west). Spying a handily placed tree I climbed up and jumped over the fence.

Visited 27/12/2014.