Was listening to Alan Moore’s album Unearthing (basically a bio of his friend Steve Moore – No relation) which mentions much about his time living near Shooters Hill and the history of the surrounding area. Noticed the link posted is now defunct, but came across a great blog entry about a search for further info about the missing six tumuli aptly called ’ Barrow Quest.
Latest Fieldnotes
March 20, 2014
I guess it’s pretty much a fundamental human tendency to seek pleasurable experiences now... rather than later. Yeah, why wait until tomorrow if you can have what you want today? ‘If not now, when?’ In general a sound enough lifestyle maxim, provided one is never obliged to take it to such a devastating apogee as was Primo Levi. However there are occasions – visiting ancient sites, for example – when I’d recommend a little more reticence, the application of a degree of self-control to refrain from rushing from place to place simply to be able to say ‘I was there’. Take along a foam mat, chill out, enjoy the moment and let the subconscious do it’s weird and wondrous stuff. Do justice to somewhere you might never frequent again. More often than not these days I find time has run out and I need to return another day to see the remainder of an unrealistic itinerary. The hallmark of a successful visit, in my opinion.
Such as yesterday’s experience at the nearby stone circle upon Waun Lwyd. Shouldn’t have been an issue to make the relatively short diversion to Garn Glas and bag another couple of upland cairns. But it was. Hence I find myself (once again) driving alongside the fast flowing, nascent Afon Tawe, beneath the Maen Mawr and its diminutive petrified charges, toward the prosaically named Bwlch Cerrig Duon. Entering Glasfynydd Forest, I take the first left to descend steeply into Cwm Meity, veering left again to dwellings at Caerllwyn. Here a dead-end road shadows the Afon Hydfer to the west toward its terminus overlooked by the isolated farmhouse of Blaneau Uchaf. I manage to park some way before the gate and walk to the footbridge adjacent to a ford. An idyllic scene, even when viewed under what are clearly fast deteriorating conditions. An obvious track heads southward through Cwm yr Afon beside the west bank of the river. My blind assumption – not for the first time – is incorrect, the bridleway actually climbing above and to the west of Blaneau Uchaf. But there you are, the navigational error duly rectified a little later by way of a steep climb to the summit of Twyn Perfedd. Serves me right.
Having negotiated a gate I’m almost immediately placed in a quandary. Yeah, two cairns are visible, one apparently reached by following the ridge line to approx south, the other located upon the hillside rising above a prominent gulley cradling the Nant Tarw. So, which to visit first? Needless to say I choose the hardest option, the northern of the pair (to the left of a large sheepfold). Wrapped up against the fierce wind it proves a sweaty struggle. But well worth the effort, the cairn revealed to be a substantial, well defined monument carefully located below the crest of the ridge. What’s more with a sweeping, northern vista toward Mynydd Myddfai and Mynydd Bach Trecastell. No paucity of prehistory up there, it has to be said. Nearer to hand the fledgling Nant Tawr, bolstered by months of heavy rain, makes its uncertain way to the eponymous stone circles beneath the (apparently) cairn-crowned Foel Darw. Yeah, corporeal reminders of the previous inhabitants of Y Mynydd Du are not exactly lacking here, either. It is tempting, perhaps with good reason, to assign a connection imbued with inherent meaning between stream and the great cairn I sit upon. However any attempt to formulate a rational definition with fronts of hail sweeping in from the cloud-wreathed summits of Fan Foel and Bannau Sir Gaer is probably a non-starter. Coherent thought as overwhelming bursts of sunlight afford a glimpse of some other aesthetic dimension? You’re having a laugh.
The southern cairn is visible some way away, attained by way of a soggy tramp across wild moorland. Less well defined than its neighbour, it is nevertheless a substantial monument – albeit of low elevation – incorporating a significant volume of stone. Hey, perhaps even retaining the remnants of a cist within? Perhaps. Upon a clearer day the dominating high summits of Y Mynydd Du rising to the south would no doubt add a further aspect to the scene. Today cloud holds them in a clammy embrace which only momentarily releases its grip, and then with apparent extreme reluctance. However the uncompromising vibe speaks volumes regardless. Cold, very wet, with a suggestion of claustrophobia, what with such a weight of cloud bearing down overhead. However this is a good place to be. A good place to have saved for a rainy day, so to speak.
The inclement onslaught begins to penetrate my ageing jacket. Too late I wish I’d had a bit more forethought and worn my new one. It is therefore with typical predictable mountain irony that the cloud base fractures to a fine evening.... more or less as soon as I begin my descent back to the car.
Visited 8th March 2014
This was another site on my must see list for this trip down to Cornwall. With some judicious Google Earth scrying beforehand, in conjunction with a trusty O.S map, I’d identified the parking spot on the bend mentioned in Carl’s notes.
We approached down a narrow lane off the A30, a signpost warning that the track was unsuitable for HGV’s, and even in our little car it was tight going. Ellen drove as I navigated, somewhat fretful in case she met something coming the other way, as there were few passing places, and reversing on the narrow twisty roads would have taken some doing.
Following the signs towards Carn Euny we reached an even narrower track, this one with a no through road sign at the start of it. Ellen was reticent about taking it, but I encouraged her to take a drive of faith and so we carried on. Within minutes there is a thick band of grass growing up the centre of the road, but we’d come this far so there’s no turning back now! It’s not long though before I recognise the pull-in next to the public footpath sign I’d seen on Google Earth.
Parking up here Ellen decided to wait in the car, worried in case we ended up blocking the way for some huge agricultural machinery, and also being a bit more wary of trespassing than my blasé attitude towards it. I happily hopped over the gate however, and walking up the edge of the currently empty meadow, again followed Carl’s directions into the neighbouring field.
As I entered the field I was taken aback, the burial mound, so perfectly small and round sitting there incongruously in the field, just looked so unreal. Getting up close I could see just how different this chamber seemed from other barrows I’d visited, looking more like a roundhouse than a tomb (perhaps that’s the idea?).
Either way it’s lovely, probably the first chambered tomb I’d describe as cute. The gorsey toupee just adds to its character, and the vegetation growing around it gives the place an organic quality. As I bend down to look into the entrance it’s almost as if the stones of the entranceway are reaching around to give me a hug. Squeezing into the chamber, no slugs are in evidence today, but creeping tendrils of bramble are starting worm their way in, grabbing at my coat, and I really wish I had a pair of secateurs with me just to keep the chamber clear.
As I lean against the side of the mound to write my notes everything seems a bit illusory here, the sky is perfectly blue, the grass low cropped and gently rippling in the breeze, the lonely cawing of crows overhead, and not a sight or sound of the modern world in evidence. It’s like some bucolic idyll, and it feels as if nothing has changed since Borlase was here, if ever a site had a palpable vibe, it’s this one.
Utterly enchanted I forget the time, and feeling a bit mean about abandoning Ellen, I drag myself away, only to find on my return she’d dozed off in the car, so I could have stayed a bit longer I suppose! Anyway I will be back!
With all the abundance of megalithic wonderment crammed into this small part of West Penwith it’s interesting that this little burial chamber seems to have affected me most of all the places I’ve been so far this week, I can’t recommend a visit to this hidden gem highly enough.
Visited 19.3.14
Directions:
North east of the Barrow at Crosshands – about 1 mile away.
The O/S map shows three Barrows at the crossroads.
Two of which are shown at the back of farm buildings – which I couldn’t see.
The third is in a field on the other side of the lane – seen as a grass ‘bump’.
COFLEIN states:
‘One of four barrows laid out along the summit of an east-west ridge. A circular mound about 22m in diameter and 0.4m high. Excavation produced evidence for a primary, uncontained cremation deposit and a secondary inurned cremation’.
Visited 19.3.14
Directions:
On the western side of the crossroads at Crosshands.
Two Barrows marked on the map – both no more than grass covered ‘bumps’.
COFLEIN has these named as the southern and northern tumuli.
COFLEIN states:
Southern – ‘A mutilated round barrow, 17m in diameter by 0.5m high, bisected by a garden hedge. When excavated two BA inurned cremations were recorded’.
Northern – ‘A ploughed down round barrow, 16m in diameter by .05m high. A central inurned cremation, set within a small cist-structure was recorded in excavations’.
Failed visit 19.3.14
Directions:
On the eastern side of the crossroads at Crosshands.
You will need an O/S map to find this place!
I parked up on the grass verge at the back of the house and tried to spot the stones – I couldn’t.
I then decided to hop over the metal gate giving access to the field at the back of the house for a closer look. At this point 2 or 3 dogs came running out of the house and barked noisily at me. Although I doubt they could have got out of the garden they were making so much noise that it was only a matter of time before someone came to see what was happening.
I don’t know who the field belonged to but as there is no public access I decided it was not worth it. One for next time perhaps?
Visited 19.3.14
Directions:
South-East of the hamlet of Glandwr – through unsignposted country lanes.
O/S map required.
A grass ‘bump’ in a field.
Not worth the effort of finding it.
COFLEIN states:
‘A sub-circular mound, 18m in diameter and 1.2m high, truncated by a current road on the NE’.
Visited 19.3.14
Directions:
From the A40 take the A478 north towards Cardigan. The hamlet of Glandwr can be found a short distance to the east about half way to Cardigan. Signposted.
I was starting to run out of time and I was sorely tempted to re-visit the Gors Fawr stone circle but I knew I didn’t have time to do both. In the end I decided that it was better to go somewhere new rather than somewhere I had already been – this being my usual maxim in life.
I like an old attractive church – this isn’t one – far too modern for my taste. Not that I had come this far to specifically look at the church anyway of course.
The stone is not next to the church but next to
(I think) the church hall- to the right of the gate into the church yard – can’t miss it.
The stone is about 1.5m high and the Ogham markings can be seen but are not very clear. In all honesty if I didn’t know they were there I would have probably missed them.
Perhaps it wasn’t the best light to see them in.
The stone itself is quite ordinary but of course it’s not very often you get the chance to see Ogham so for that reason alone it is worth the trip.
Visited 19.3.14
Directions:
The minor road running south from the main A40 to the village of Llangynog passes right past this site (on the left). You can park at the entrance to Pen Lan Farm and a metal field gate directly opposite gives access.
There is little to see; other than obvious undulations under the grass.
There is another enclosure a little to the south east which I didn’t look at.
COFLEIN states:
‘Bwlch-y-Seiri is an oval enclosure, about 56m east-west by 44m, defined by a bank, ditch and counterscarp, having a circular ditched mound, about 30m in diameter immediately adjacent on the west, the whole occupying the nub of a west facing spur’.
Visited 19.3.14
Directions:
A sort distance west of Meini Llwydion (Llangynog) standing stones at SN31201402.
In a field opposite the turning to the right (north).
The O/S map shows a footpath opposite the turning leading right to the stone.
In reality the footpath doesn’t exist and you are actually confronted by a double barbed wire fence and hedge.
I managed to get over the fence/hedge (not easy) and started to head south to the stone. It soon became apparent that the field is little more than a bog with no chance of crossing unless you were wearing wellies – which I wasn’t! No wonder there were no animals or crops in these fields, just lots of ‘spiky’ grass.
I retraced my steps and headed back to the road.
I thought I was going to miss out on this stone but I was able to view it, from afar, from the edge of the field housing the nearby Meini Llwydion stones. Look across the fields, under the power cables, for a large ‘boulder type’ stone lying near a hedgerow.
I don’t think I missed much.
COFLEIN doesn’t have much to say either:
‘The O/S 1st edition 1’’ map depicts two stones; there remains only one, suggesting a stone pair’
Visited 19.3.14
Directions:
A short distance east of the village of Llanybri, north of the B4312.
I am pleased to report that I managed to find the stone, although it is easy to see how such a large stone can be missed.
At the crossroads is a small triangular area of rough ground – parking easy. Walk across (west) to the high hedgerow. Follow this hedgerow until you see the stone. At this time of year it was fairly easy but in the summer it would be tricky. You certainly wouldn’t see it if you weren’t specifically looking for it.
The stone is large – about 7 feet high by 3 feet across. The stone is covered in moss and the top section is also covered in ivy. It sits right in the middle of the hedgerow and is next to a tree.
It does a very good job of hiding itself!
I don’t know why this stone is called Maen Melyn (yellow stone) when it looked to me to me to be made of red sandstone?!
This is a cracking stone to seek out and access to it is very easy. Spotting it is the tricky thing!
Well worth the effort.
Visited 19.3.14
Directions:
To the east of the Meini Llwydion (Llangynog) standing stones.
From the stones take the lane south-east. At the crossroads turn left up a steep hill.
The enclosure is easy to spot on the right. You can park on the grass verge.
A gate gives access to the site and a sign requests that visitors stick to the path – although there is actually no path so see. I therefore headed directly to the enclosure.
This is a pretty good place to visit. The single ditch / rampart is about 1.5m high.
The banks are covered in brambles and gorse but at this time of year it wasn’t too bad. A trig point sits on top of the bank. What appears to be the entrance is at the north-east. There are good views to be had out towards the estuary.
The wind was cold with drizzle in the air. A complete contrast to the weather last week when I was in the area. Perhaps spring hasn’t sprung after all?
This is an easy site to visit and worth the effort when in the area.
COFLEIN states:
‘A sub-oval enclosure about 86m north-east to south-west by 76m, defined by a double banks and ditches, set upon a prominent ridge-top knoll and resting on steep slopes to the east. On the gentler slopes to the west a possible outer line of ramparts may define an enclosure roughly 128m across. Two circular structures within the enclosure produced some ceramic material thought to be later prehistoric in date’.
Visited 19.3.14
Directions:
South-East from Crug Bach – along a narrow country lane.
O/S map recommended.
I large grass covered mound the other side of the bank/hedgerow.
You can’t see it from the road but you can from the top of the bank.
It’s western side has been cut through by the hedge / road.
One for the keen only.
COFLEIN states:
‘A round barrow truncated by a lane, 70’ in diameter and 5’ 6’’ high. Two cremations have been found , the first represented by ashes covered by two quartz stones, the second, thought to be primary, being inurned but cist-less’.
Visited 19.3.14
Directions:
As described by Postie.
There is room to park on the road (where it widens) a bit up the hill from the start of the footpath; which is next to a house and is signposted.
I walked down the hill to the house and headed east through the fields trying to find/follow the permissive footpath. I don’t know how successful I was as it was hard to tell which was the ‘path’!
The important thing is that before too long I spotted the stones near a hedgerow / trees.
The information board is still there but it has been pulled out of the ground and is now propped up against a gate.
Two nice stones although it is a great pity that the rest of the burial chamber has been removed at some point in antiquity.
Worth the short but muddy walk when in the area
Visited 19.3.14
Directions:
The road running past the Dolmen is very busy with no parking spots. The best thing to do is leave the car where you parked it for Myrddins Quoit and walk to the site. Walk up the hill to the main road, turn right and look for the first metal field gate on the left. Over the gate and walk directly across the field – look for a concrete water trough with a gate next to it. Over the trough and the stones are easily seen ahead of you.
Have you ever been to a site where you seem to be ‘drawn’ to it?
From the road you can’t see the stones and I didn’t know which way to go. But for some reason it ‘felt’ like the stones were the way I went and sure enough they were!
I can’t offer any logical explanation for this but that’s how it was.
The information board is still there although very weathered and worn.
Three standing stones remain – all leaning. Two smaller boulders lay next to the stone leaning the most – don’t know how long it will be before it falls down?
The stones are made up of the same material as the nearby Myrddins Quoit stones – ‘pudding stone’?
It’s a pity the capstone is missing. I sat a while to write these notes and thought about all the changes which have occurred since the Dolmen was first constructed. Although the cold wind was starting to bite it was a peaceful spot with birdsong in the distance.
This is a good place to come and well worth a ‘double visit’ with Myrddins Quoit.
Visited 19.3.14
Directions:
West of the village of Llanybri, along narrow country lanes.
O/S map recommended.
I parked on the grass verge by the field gate and quickly climbed over. The stones are not visible from the road but soon come into view as you walk across the bogy field.
The stones were a lot bigger than I expected and a lot easier to find.
Well worth a look if you happen to be out this way.
If you come when it is wet – bring your wellies!
Visited 19.3.14
Directions:
Drive south through the village of Llangynog and you will come to a recycling area on your right. This is a large concreted area with several recycling bins for glass, clothes etc. There is plenty of room to park next to the bins. Follow the stepped path down towards the water works but bear right towards the bridge. From the bridge (at this time of year) you can see the Dolmen in the trees to your right – 3 minute easy walk.
The rusty gate at the end of the bridge which should give you access to the wood/Dolmen was padlocked shut. You are therefore left with the option of either climbing over a small barbed wire fence or over the wooden hand rail of the bridge. Neither of which are difficult to do.
I walked over to the Dolmen and sat quietly.
It is a very peaceful place at 8.30am with just the sound of the nearby stream and bird song for company. The Dolmen, surrounding tree trunks and boulders are all covered in a thick layer of moss – dry and soft to the touch – very tactile.
Although the Dolmen is quite small it is in good condition and the capstone is surprisingly thick, supported by 2 upright stones. One large and several small pieces of quartz had been placed under the capstone. More strange were (what appeared to be) the animal teeth which I assume were left as ‘offerings’?
It had been an early start and a 2 hour drive to get here. Was it worth it – absolutely!
I sat quietly, admiring the location and contemplated how wonderful it was that this place had survived the millennia.
Peace was shattered bang on 9.00am when the roar of vehicles could be heard from the adjacent quarry (thankfully not visible from the Dolmen due to the trees).
Time to go……………
If you ever happen to be in this part of the world, please make the effort to visit this site. It is easy to access and well worth it. I am sure you won’t be disappointed. This is one of those places that allow you to re-charge the soul.
March 18, 2014
A quick visit to Mullamast, very accessible off the new Dublin to Waterford motorway, three sites in one: a standing stone, a barrow cemetery and a massive rath.
The standing stone is well over a metre-and-a-half tall, with grooves or channels or runnels at its top, very much in keeping with the nearby Carlow examples. It’s right beside the road, moved here from its original position and coralled by a fence.
Directly opposite is a field with the unrecognisable remains of a barrow cemetery. The only remaining visible example of this is the one in the next field to the north, about 20 metres diameter and much disturbed.
The real gem of Mullamast is the massive henge-like rath in the next field again to the north. The bank of this rises to 4 or 5 metres from the bottom of the silted-up ditch and has an entrance at the east.
Normally on most raths that I visit the interior is raised from the surrounding terrain to aid defence, but the interior of this is level, the inhabitants relying on the height of the bank and the depth of the ditch for protection. Very impressive and well worth a visit.
I’ve visited Broadleas at least 5 times before (it’s right beside the road, a small diversion from the N81 thoroughfare down through Wicklow and Carlow) but have never felt the urge to write about my visits. Today, mid-March 2014, is different, mainly because I made a decision to write notes, however slight, for every site I visit, but also because I was rather more enchanted by the place than at any other previous time.
I’ve recently found the exact site of the nearby destroyed Whiteleas circle so I was in the vicinity on a scouting mission. That mission will have to wait for another day, when I don’t have my 5-year-old in tow, but preliminary snooping is quite hopeful.
But back to Broadleas: now is the time to visit. All nettles and other unfriendlies have died right back and the circle is more visually accessible. The eastern arc is crowded out by thorn trees, but standing in the centre of the circle allows one appreciate the ring. The stones are at the edge of a raised platform, probably man-made, and possibly once upon a time the whole was embanked.
I climbed the denuded tree on the western arc and fired off a few shots, but felt a bit too old to be doing that sort of thing.
If you travel south out of Tallaght, this is the first of the four remaining Wicklow/Kildare circles that you come to. Then it’s on to Athgreany, Castleruddery and Boleycarrigeen. I was very struck by the views to the south-east in those circles’ direction: Slievecorragh and Church mountain pull the eye, and I can’t wait to get to the aforementioned Whiteleas to see what, if anything, remains and what views the builders may have noticed.
Large double bullaun stone in the driveway of a house just outside Ballymore Eustace on the Kilcullen road. Quite a nice garden ornament, it was moved here from a field about 300 metres to the north-west by the previous owners of the house.
It’s over a metre tall and of the two bullauns, the eastern is the best, maybe 12 cms deep and with two run-off channels. These look deliberately carved, for what purpose is anyone’s guess. The other bowl is barely carved, wider and very shallow. Thanks to the owners of the property for permission to have a gawk.
March 16, 2014
It was The Jesus and Mary Chain who (rather melodically, it has to be said) declared that they were ‘Happy When It Rains’ back in 1987. And to be fair there are occasions when, safely cocooned within waterproofs, I heartily concur with Jim and William’s sentiments concerning precipitation. However following a couple of months of what has been – by all accounts – ‘the wettest winter ever’... to say I’m somewhat pleased that it’s NOT raining this morning would be an understatement of significant proportions. Yeah, even if a thick mass of cloud has seen fit to obscure the high summits of Y Mynydd Du, ‘The Black Mountain’, hopefully the car won’t be in danger of being swept away by the raging outflow of Llyn-y-Fan-Fach. So.... in the circumstances a long overdue first visit to the stone circle upon Waun Lwyd fits the bill very nicely indeed. About time.
Now the first challenge to would-be visitors arriving by car is to safely negotiate the ... er.... how shall I put it?.... very, very minor road from the Red Lion public house, a little north of the village of Llanddeusant, to a parking area at approx SN 797238. [Incidentally there is a ‘red kite feeding station’ nearby, so be prepared for more visions of feathery wondrousness than you might have otherwise anticipated]. Seriously, the road is pretty rough, although thankfully the ‘sump destroying’ cattle grid at Blaneau was fixed some years back now.
So, duly fortified by tea – as is the English stonehead custom – the Mam C and I proceed up the gated Llyn-y-Fan-Fach access track for a short distance before veering left to climb steeply above, and roughly parallel to, the near bank of a major gulley carved by the Sychnant ‘stream’, that is heading approx north-east. A little way further on another gulley, this one cradling the Nant Melyn, can be seen climbing away to the south-east toward the foot of Fan Foel. Ignoring this to persevere with our line, the sight of several enigmatically dark stones soon cresting the horizon announces that, for once, my map-work is spot on. Eh, how did that happen?
The ‘circle stands upon (or should that be in?) a saddle between somewhat higher ground to the west and the wild moor of Waun Lwyd to the east, the latter incidentally cradling the source of the River Usk. It is a pretty brutal landscape, particularly with what should be a superb mountainous skyline to the south truncated by low cloud. Coflein reckons there are “at least 18 stones” within the circumference ... “two of these are buried (discovered by probing) and there are two possible outliers to the NW.” Note, however, that only a leaning upright toward the east and a large stone to south-east are of any reasonably significant dimensions. But then experience has determined that the stone circles of the Welsh uplands are patently not about size/number of uprights. Not interested. It is the LOCATION of the area subject to demarcation that was clearly of paramount importance to the locals back in the day. To paraphrase the saying, it wasn’t the size... but where the stones were put that mattered. Hey, I can live with that ‘less is more’ minimalist outlook.
Having located the ‘circle with such unfeasible ease the sterner challenge is thus to find a spot to hang out and enjoy the superb upland vibe... that isn’t under several inches of water. To literally hammer home the point we are subsequently subjected to an intense five minute working over, courtesy of a passing shower. However such tribulations come with the territory, a small price to pay for the privilege of spending a couple of hours or so in such a wondrous place. As mentioned, by far the largest upright stands upon the south-eastern arc, together with a recumbent and number of smaller stones. Intriguingly the RCAHMW lads [Brian Malaws / David Leighton, 6/11/08] hypothesize that the sum of these parts might have once been a substantial monolith not unlike the Maen Mawr, currently shepherding the not so distant Y Cerrig Duon. A possibility, I guess? Whilst pondering such ponderables the mass of cloud I assured the Mam C “would not lift today.... trust me” sees fit to peel away and reveal Y Mynydd Du in all its considerable glory. Yeah, the reverse of Shakespeare’s “The clouds methought would open and show riches”. The sun, finally able work its fiery magic, sets about flooding the landscape with washes of light of such intensity, such vibrant colour, that I reckon even the aforementioned Reid bothers would have approved? Yeah, fleeting instances of such high drama are what these diminutive Welsh stone circles are all about for me (and I know the Mam C agrees or she wouldn’t come)... those jaw-dropping seconds when Nature’s arc lights, focussed upon such a spartan stage, seem to fuse landscape, monument and walk on actors together as one.
Albeit just for a moment.
March 15, 2014
Although sited only about a third of a mile to the approx north-east of the Loxidge Tump cairn, fractionally ‘England-side’ of the border, I approach the Black Darren monument from the north-west this April Fool’s Day 2013, this the result of having abandoned an attempt to re-visit the summit of Red Daren due to lack of time, my crampon-less boots having succumbed to the arctic conditions prevalent underfoot like they were supporting a prize muppet not used to such wintry weather. Well, if the balaclava – and sundry other items of headgear – fit... To be honest I would actually recommend approaching from this direction above others, the climb up from the Little Daren Farm picnic area [SO296299] to the north-west of Longtown much quieter and vibey than the Llanthony Priory route in normal circumstances. Equally sublime views, too. [Incidentally castle-heads might be interested to know that Longtown (it’s true, it really is a long town) possesses a nice South Walian Norman round keep ... despite being in Herefordshire].
My approach, needless to say, proves somewhat problematic, not to mention extremely tiring, owing to the inclement conditions having rendered the escarpment edge with a glistening, angled carapace of ice frustratingly not quite able to bear my weight. Yeah, it is certainly no easy skate. Cue a number of undignified stumbles, alternating with passable – well, I thought so.... the allegorical Russian judge perhaps knew better – impersonations of the waterfowl attempting to land upon my local lake when frozen. Luckily there is no-one else around to see my enforced gymnastics, although no doubt any embarrassed blushing was frozen at source. Which, considering that the Black Darren cairn is located just north of the ugly scar that is the Offa’s Dyke long distance path, is an utterly wondrous, in my experience unparalleled state of affairs. The final slither is duly executed... and there it is. The cairn, but one of a linear series of such monuments placed upon this ridge, is not shown on my 1993 issue 1:25K OS map and should not be confused with a ‘Pile of Stones’ a little to the south-east.
The most obvious feature is a large ‘storm shelter’ erected on top of the monument, in retrospect what the Mam C and I clocked prior to being summarily chased from the mountain by a violent electrical storm a few years back. Coflein actually mentions ‘two parasitic sheep shelters’, so my guess is these have subsequently been ‘knocked through’ to make just the one. This traveller wonders whether this particular incidence of DIY was undertaken by the sheep themselves? If so let us hope that someone was on hand, camera at the ready, in order to capture the moment for prosperity. I wait for the upload to YouTube with breath bated in anticipation. Coflein also mentions the remains of a cist still in situ, although again I’m afraid I can’t confirm that, not with the interior packed out with snow. Let’s just say there didn’t seem to be one as I raked about with gloved hands. What can be affirmed without any ambiguity, however, is the sheer extent of the underlying footprint, a feature actually accentuated by the mantle of snow. Suffice to say that this is clearly a substantial monument indeed.
It also proves to be a wonderfully haunting, evocative location today, the whereabouts of the aforementioned Offa’s Dyke ‘motorway’ betrayed by nothing more than a few footsteps in the snow. Yeah, all is silent. In fact I never thought it could be so silent up here. Granted, the scene is not that of a shining Alpine wonderland, as experienced upon Pen-y-Gadair-Fawr the day before, but rather a bleak ‘midwinter’ landscape of the kind Wenceslas was said to have gone a’ wandering about in. Albeit not in Wales.... Herefordshire even. Actually both, it gets so confusing up here on the border. Whatever, the snow is most certainly ‘deep, crisp and even’, according the landscape a hostile, brutal, almost surreal majesty that is a privilege to share with whatever creatures lie dormant beneath waiting for the thaw. In the absence of any other humans, that is.
The leaving comes too soon.
These notes date from the cold ‘Spring’ of last year. Again, should’ve put them on at the time....
A ‘higher than expected’ cloudbase looms above the eastern-most ridge of The Black Mountains, the more-or-less uniform, clean-cut lines of these snow-clad uplands (defining, with uncharacteristic finality, the England/Wales border) simultaneously mirroring and opposing the darkly menacing sky today. Perhaps the somewhat malignant vibe I sense this morning is influenced by the knowledge that today is April 1st.... April Fool’s Day. Yeah, this traveller’s summary rejection of the sundry self-serving tenets of organised religion notwithstanding, it is clearly not so easy to banish all superstition with Mr Spock logic when venturing forth in the great outdoors. One can feel so very small and insignificant.... so vulnerable. And rightly so. Guess the best I can offer by way of explanation is the feeble acknowledgement of entering an environment beyond normal everyday perception, a recognition of willingly subjecting the self to stimuli likely to result in sensory overload, to a greater or lesser degree. Perhaps a parallel can be drawn with the shamans of old, such a mental state enabling the individual to access primeval neural circuits long since filed away in the deepest recesses of the human genome, thought processes selected for animal survival, not logical deliberation. But enough cod-psychology... despite the passing of a sudden, freezing shower, I decide to head for the hills. Yeah, in the words of Andy Partridge... ‘I’ve got 1,2,3,4,5; Senses working overtime’.
Walking back down the road from the (not surprisingly) almost empty car park adjacent to the gaunt ruins of Llanthony Priory a gate allows access to pasture land upon the gently rising southern slopes of Cwm Siarpal. I head for the foot of Loxidge Tump forming the left hand (western) flank of the cwm. From here a steep climb, with some fine retrospective views across the Vale of Ewyas to Cwm Bwchel etc, sees me eventually emerge upon bare, open hillside, the landscape now in the unrelenting, icy grasp of winter raiment above the snow line..... despite it ostensibly being Spring! Continuing approx north along the rim of the cwm the view south(ish) toward the great promontory fort of Hatterrall Hill is truly one to behold, sufficient reward for the inclement conditions underfoot. Not to mention the biting wind, the actions of which ensure ‘I ‘aint seen nothing yet’ by having applied a progressively more potent ‘freezing crust’ to the snow mantle as I gain height. Hence what is – assuming my previous visit with the Mam C back in 2008 is any yardstick – a reasonably straightforward walk is transformed today into a full-on struggle for every step.
Consequently the appearance of the Bronze Age cairn is most welcome... in more ways than one. It is not a commanding monument, at least not in its surviving form, and appears even less so when almost subsumed within the snow! Nevertheless I’m determined not to repeat the error of yore and actually manage to remember to look at the map – for once – the cairn located a little west of the cwm headwall, to the left of the path.... assuming the path isn’t obscured by snow, that is. Plonking myself on top it is immediately clear what a superb location this is, the sweeping view across Cwm Siarpal to the wondrous Vale of Ewyas (in my opinion) matching the aesthetic appeal of some of the area’s top vistas. Hey, well worth the effort of a fine approach. Needless to say it’s bloody freezing but, fortified by an inner glow like some post-Cold War ‘Ready Brek kid’, I discover that there is an excellent vibe to be enjoyed here upon this frozen far-from-waste-land.
After hanging out for a while I slowly – very slowly, not by choice but out of necessity – head approx north-west in an ultimately unsuccessful attempt to locate an ‘enclosure’ marked upon the 1:25k map. Snow too deep, unfortunately. Indeed... half way to the summit of Red Daren, the OS trig point conspicuous upon the far horizon, it dawns on me that my progress is so slow that I must choose between reacquainting myself with it .... or finally getting ‘round to checking out Black Darren’s cairn. Not enough time to do both justice. Suffice to say I choose the latter.
One of at least nine Long barrows which survive in the Stonehenge area, this barrow has suffered a lot of reduction in height and now stands only a meter tall. There is no record of any excavation or knowledge of it’s contents but it would fall into the Early and Middle Neolithic periods (3400-2400 BC), due to it’s overall size and shape. The fact it survives well means it will contain archaeological and environmental evidence relating to the monument and the landscape in which it was constructed. Maybe one day it will be excavated with the latest techniques and solve another piece of the Stonehenge mystery.
One of the better preserved and easily accesable Long barrows within the Stonehenge area is the Knighton Long barrow which is directly behind the Larkhill Camp at SU 12801 45355. Follow the byway off the Packway at SU 11743 44472 to get to this.
The Long barrow which foams the key of the Winterbourne Cross Roads Group is also well worth checking out if there is room at the pull in on the A303.
March 14, 2014
Visited 8th March 2014
My quest this week was to visit the four West Penwithian stone circles, and the Boskednan Maidens were the last elusive stones to find. Our intention had been to park at the Men-an-Tol lay-by and walk from there to the circle. On arrival though our plans were foiled by due to a plethora of horse-boxes and 4x4’s disgorging the local hunt, and blocking up the pull in and nearby verges, and clogging the road with all the arrogance and inconsideration that only a bunch of red coated buffoons can exhibit.
Continuing up the lane we spot a place to pull in just on the left, opposite a track to a house called Dakota. A quick check of the O.S. map shows we can reach the stones from here, and then head via Ding Dong back down to Men-an-Tol, the engine house of the ruined mine providing a useful landmark with which to orient ourselves. We set off along the path onto the moors, and before long I’m delighted to spot the stones on the skyline.
Tramping across the moorland it’s a great walk, but very muddy, wellingtons again proving their worth. After walking for about twenty minutes, and fixedly gazing at either the stones on the horizon, or our feet lest we tread in a muddy bog, I look back and notice Men Scryfa some way behind us. I’m annoyed we missed it, but would rather spend more time at the circle than go back to visit it now, so as always, there’ll be another time to visit I’m sure, and it’s always a good excuse to return (as if I need one!).
We steadily climb up the ridge of the moorland, the circle temporarily hidden from view, before coming upon some stones, which I initially take for the circle, and am a bit taken aback, as it seems a lot smaller than I was expecting. It’s only when Ellen points out some more stones ahead, that I check the map and realise we are at Boskednan cairn, a nice bonus to stumble on as I didn’t even realise this place was here!
It’s been a walk of just under two miles, but the circle is soon reached, and what a lovely atmospheric place it is. The eleven stones (the nine maidens in this case coming from the magical symbolism of the number, rather than the extant number of stones), lean attractively in that romantic ruin type of way. The dun winter shades of the moor make it look as if the stones are sprouting organically from the ground. It’s still windy, but also seems surprisingly sheltered, and the circle has a warmth about it, a welcoming sheltering place atop the bleak moors.
The contrast between the Boskednan maidens and the Merry Maidens couldn’t be greater, for all the manicured perfection of the latter, here is a wild elemental place, raw, lonely and magnificent, and all the preferable for it. A truly wonderful circle.