Latest Fieldnotes

I’ve wanted to do this for ages, watch the sunrise from Swinside stone circle in the Lake district then M6 it up and into Scotland, A75 to Newton Stewart in time for sunset at Torhousekie stone circle, they both have solstice alignments, Swinside’s over the right hand portal stones, and at Torhousekie the three central stones are aligned on the winter solstice sunset, and the summer solstice sunrise, but I did that one years ago.

It was even possible to get to a few close to sites as well, it all worked a treat, apart from a bungle at the beginning. But everywhere we’d been was just leading up to this place, the cloud cover was 50/50, the sun came and went quickly, but would, it seemed be in attendance at the crucial moment. We sat and watched for a while, but it was windy and cold so Eric wrapped himself in blankets and lay down out of the wind by the central stones, which was fine for a while. But then the groovy sky lights started to dance and I took to frenzied photo mode, trying, mostly in vain to not include my 11 year old vagrant. In the end, the cold, and being in the way drove him back to the welcoming warmth of the car.

Freed of parental considerations I swung into action, balancing on gate posts, teetering on wall corners, ducking, diving, crouching and standing still like a normal person as the light dictated. It was Gymnastics meets photography, Photonastics perhaps.
Then I sat and watched for a bit more, it is a fantastic world, is it not? if this all happens by complete chance, then we really are a lucky bunch of buggers aren’t we, then I wished the boy hadn’t gone off to the car, moments like this were made for sharing. I’ll go and get him and go for a look see at the last of the golden glow from the three stone row over the road.

29/12/2013 – I read about this possible stone circle in a recently published book, “Minerals and Ancient Monuments in Royal Deeside” by Ian Cameron. It’s a good area for a walk so I thought I’d go have a look for it. Situated quite high on the hill, so it’s a bit of a pull up but no problems access wise. The possible circle comprises of two large boulders and a small stone. I don’t know what to make of the site really. It’s a great location for a circle and the vibe standing in the middle was good. I would be interested in other people’s thoughts if they visit (Drew, Les etc?). The smaller stone is said to have possible cupmarks but I had no luck in seeing anything.

Worth mentioning the author, Ian Cameron, who writes about this circle and its link to the hill Lochnagar, SW of the circle. In a section about Corrybeg, he writes that from the circle, the sun is seen to set in the middle ridge of Lochnagar on the shortest day of the year. Lochnagar acting as a distant recumbent setting and so the various recumbent stone circles in the north east of Scotland are all recreating the skyline of Lochnagar! Make of that what you will. It’s a lovely little book and reads well.

Corrybeg cairn can be found a further 100m up the hill

29/12/2013 – Fine weather today so we headed inland to have a look for this cairn at Corrybeg. It’s on the OS 1st edition map but not the modern OS and Aberdeenshire SMR listed it as destroyed, so I didn’t expect much. Good access via uphill track from Abergairn. Upon getting to the spot we were pleased to find the cairn still there. Situated near the 430m contour on the hill, on a slight rise, in a lightly wooded area, the cairn is very overgrown with heather. Quite a good footprint but not very high. Near the centre there appears to be the remains of a possible cist. The whole cairn is surrounded by some really decent kerb stones. The area and view is quite outstanding round here. A great day out.

One up two down.

Just a couple hundred yards south south east of the well signposted Cup and ring marked rocks. Very muddy gateway between fields. Moderate quarrying halfway between the two sites.
There wasn’t long before we had to be at the end of day site of Torhousekie stone circle for the winter solstice sunset, so it was i’m afraid a rather fleeting visit.
But it didn’t take long for me to notice that the number of upright stones has decreased by the number of one since my last visit many years ago, leaving just the one lone stone reaching for the sky.
When did it come down ? more than a few years ago it seems. The earthen tide mark on the stone reveals how little of the stone was planted, no wonder it is down, I can imagine very fast moving winds across this mostly flat countryside, it’s probably a wonder all three aren’t having a lie down.
It would really be something to see all three stones standing proud, but even with just the one this is still an essential must see for the area.

Stones for goal posts.

Across the road and a couple of fields from the wonderful Wren’s egg and nest is this neat pair of standing stones.
They are not tall, not much more than three feet, but they are good looking stones and are aligned just south of east/west, pointing at not much, but vaguely at some cup and ring marked rocks. The hill fort of Fell of Barhuliion is just north of east from the stones and highly visible across Blairbury loch.

The stones would make good goal posts, if a little short, a game could be played between them and the wrens eggs, which are closer together, but at this distance the opposition would claim it as optical illusion, “it’s just because your further away”
The Wren would be a static referee....“play on”

Stone the crows.

I really can’t believe no TMA’er has been here but me in over ten years, perhaps they have, but have no pictures and nothing to say about this rather bizarre site, I find it hard to believe.
The name of this site is a bit of a problem for me, it struck me as just a bit off, The Wrens egg and nest, ok, the nest is the big apparently natural stony mound, that bits ok, but is the egg the big boulder, what of the two small standing stones, why aren’t they mentioned ? and why a Wren ? if all you’ve got is a nest and an egg, how would you know what species bird it is ?
Unless, the big boulder is the Wren and the two small standing stones are the eggs, and they’ve rolled out of the nest and the bird is trying to get them back in. That would make more sense of what is there, the big boulder is even slightly reminiscent of a little Wren scurrying about.
So the sites real name should be .................... The Wren, nest and eggs.

The site has lost none of its charm in the intervening eight years or so, the sun was low in the sky and shining yet again as it always does in bonny Scotland. The stones seemed bigger than in my memory, it often happens, the notice board seems even more ineffective than before though, a big boulder and concrete lump with a sign saying the sites name and who cares for it, if this is the best their care gets I suggest perhaps someone more caring would be better. A big friendly Golden Retriever ( is there any other sort )followed us down the road and looked mournfully at us as we left it to cross the field to the stones.

A really brilliant site, much to think about here, please can someone else come, I know it’s kind of on the edge of the world but there is tonnes of other stuff round here.

Assuming visitors will be looking to combine a visit to this exquisite little defended enclosure with its more substantial sentinel neighbour.... although, in my ignorance, I actually contemplated an abstention... I would recommend approaching from the latter, perhaps veering to the right (south-west) during the descent in order to bypass some pretty vicious gorse guarding the direct line. Then again this less painful option, whilst mitigating levels of discomfort, would unfortunately also obviate some pretty fine photo opportunities. ‘Horses for courses’, I guess.

The view looking across the site to the Mawddach Estuary during the latter stages of the descent of the ridge is, it has to be said, pretty special. However as I move closer, easing my way gingerly through the aforementioned gorse – paying particular attention to the ‘high bits’, for obvious reasons – primary focus is shifted to the enclosure itself in no uncertain manner.... hey, it’s a cracker! The over-riding initial observation is of the conical, aesthetically appealing – dare I say it ‘Silbury-esque’ – nature of the rocky knoll chosen for this hill fort. I wonder whether this was indeed a prime factor, an earlier ‘sacred hill’ being subsequently occupied during the Iron Age? Indeed the relevant Coflein report [John Wiles 04.07.07] states the following:

“Observations of a possible circular structure, about 6.0m in diameter, & a cairn at the summit of the irregular interior, have not been confirmed. Excavations in 1926 recorded pockets of black soil with burnt bone fragments across the summit area. Finds included a bronze finger ring and at least one possibly Roman pottery fragment..”

So it would seem something was going on here which it would appear was above and beyond normal domestic habitation. Even bearing in mind the perceived limited nature of Iron Age assault technique.... lack of siege engines etc.... the site is, by definition, completely dominated by high ground to the north; however the significant extent of the single dry stone rampart suggests this was no mere subsidiary enclosure. Hey, it seems almost as if the site simply ‘had’ to be occupied, no matter what. Whatever the truth regarding foundation, this is nonetheless a powerful upland enclosure, the south-facing entrance displaying some apparently complex features. And of course there are the magnificent views, less expansive than those to be enjoyed at the main site, of course, but well worth the effort alone. Foel Faner beckons across Llyn Cynwch to the west so I’ve less time here that I would otherwise have liked. But there you are. Mustn’t grumble. Too much is always better than too little, is it not?

I return to the ‘Precipice Walk’ car park via a lower level path heading north beneath the towering hillside. Here the more or less impregnability of Foel Offrwm’s main site is all too obvious. Looking back into the sun the relative defensive strength of the lower settlement is open to much more debate, although no doubt its occupiers could have beaten off an impromptu raiding party without too much trouble. As I make for Foel Faner, however, I can’t help thinking there is so much more to this site.......

Reacquainting.

We started the morning at Swinside stone circle but concluded that sunrise would be happening from behind a thick bank of cloud, and seeing as ive experienced that particular spectacle twice already, I decided to get on with the days stone hunting festivities and headed off for Ash house pair of stones.
I’ve been here once before, but it was ages ago and my memory of the place has faded, all I knew was that they are on a hillside, and don’t park where you did last time as someone bashed the car last time so find somewhere better to park.
My better place to park was in a parking place on the A595, north of Holme farm and below Stanley wood. Perfect.
The hillside was steep,steeper than I’d anticipated from just looking at the map, but we kept at it by just going straight up, up, up and away. Near the top we turned and saw through the trees the sun rising across Duddon sands estuary, damn and blast I thought, if we’d only stayed another thirty minutes at Swinside, we’d have got it all. Oh well, Jacks always a naughty lad. Keep going.
We emerged from the trees and made for the highest ground, as you do, to see further, and to find ones destination. Couldn’t find it at all though. We wandered hither and thither, from hills crest to peak, looking at the map and saying it should be right here and such. I sat for a while, Eric silently champing at the bit next to me, looking at the map, and reckoning the positions of the three farms I could see on to it, the Eureka moment came like a flash, we were much too far north, in fact, the hill I could see when watching the sun rise across Duddon sands is probably where I should be. Off we went, again.

Five minutes, a gate and a fence later and we there, first one stone came into view, aye up I said, and then another. Result, just as I was entertaining the idea of giving up, inspiration guided me on, and we got there. What a place this is too.
Barring the big hill right behind the stones, the views are extensive, if I can really under use a word. North across lower fells is The Old man of Coniston, west is the pretty wooded hillside of Stanley wood, east is the inner reaches of Duddon sands, and south nothing cos of the big hill. When ever the sun breaks through and bathes the rolling landscape in it’s glory, it’s more pretty than, well, most things, at least.

It’s been suggested that this is the remains of a stone circle, and I suppose it could be, but i’m leaning toward a pair of standing stones. For no other reason than I always thought that was what they were and every one knew it, now I don’t really know at all.
The only certainties are both stones have fallen, well definitely one has, the stone with grooves on it. But if it had stood then the grooves would have been underground leanding credence to Fitz’s misc note....... John Waterhouse speculates that they ‘may have resulted from abortive attempts to topple the stone during the destruction of the circle........ or standing stone.

So, a confusing site, not the easiest site to find, but some marvelous views can be had, and why not have a crack at the mystery that is Ash house carving/standing stones/stone circle.

Tomnagorn Stone Circle now a tree-free area

Visited: December 26, 2013

On a wonderful cloudless day betwixt the Christmas storms, I made a round of Sunhoney, Midmar and Tomnagorn stone circles. Following a northern approach to Tomnagorn from the high point of the Bankhead Road, across Stony Burn, then diagonally uphill to the gate at the far southwest corner of the field, I was ascending the final 100 metres through the conifer plantation when I suddenly emerged unexpectedly on to open hillside.

All the trees that had previously shaded the stone circle from the south and east were gone! Some time since last autumn the entire crop had been harvested. Now only bare hillside remains, creating hitherto unimagined views of Tomnagorn Stone Circle.

If you haven’t visited this site recently, it’s well worth a return.

Now I’ve often stood upon the shattered dry stone ramparts of upland hill forts and wondered whether their original inhabitants might have similarly enjoyed the natural aesthetics of their home, albeit an appreciation infused with inherent spiritual connotations now lost to us? Or did familiarity breed contempt, as perhaps suggested by conversations with a number of farmers down the years? Rhetorical questions, I guess. Whatever the truth of the matter, there can be little doubt that the numerous Iron Age settlements located in the outlying hills of Cadair Idris, overlooking the beautiful Afon Mawddach, occupy sublime locations indeed. Foel Faner and Foel Offrwm, rising to the approx north of Dolgellau, are cases in point...

My intention was actually to re-visit Foel Faner (a return’s been on the list for years); however, I encounter a huge outing of schoolchildren apparently en-route to the ‘Precipice Walk’ (their teachers seemingly in dire need of some of the local collies to help keep the little horrors in check) and recall Foel Offrwm is not exactly lacking in prehistory. Hey, why not do both? Why not indeed, assuming the legs – and everything else – oblige me. The aforementioned ‘Precipice Walk’ (incidentally well worth undertaking when visiting Foel Faner) is served by a large, free car park featuring public toilets for your convenience, signposted from the eastern environs of Dolgellau. From here follow the road toward Llanfachreth for a short distance before veering right upon a well made track beside a well built dry stone wall. The wall soon cedes to open hillside towering above..... a very steep hillside. This is Foel Offrwm, the main hill fort site crowning the top as you might expect. To be honest ‘very steep’ might well be a bit of an understatement! Nevertheless I’d suggest the prize is well worth the considerable effort it demands from me. Excellent retrospective views toward the craggy summits of Y Rhinogydd bolster flagging resolve as I gain height until the initial tell tale masonry courses signify an end to the ordeal. Not before time.

The defences are much more significant than I (for some reason or other) had supposed, the main dry stone rampart supplemented to the south/south-east(ish) by an additional line covering the less extreme landscape topography there.... clearly the presumed focus of any assault. The entrance is a nicely ‘in-turned’ example facing east, no doubt so placed to prolong the exposure of an attacking force to defensive missiles. So it would appear this was a serious, top-of-the-line upland fort back in the day, constructed by people who very much knew what they were doing. However there is one feature I can’t make head nor tail of.... a large, solid cuboid block of dry stone masonry at the summit of the enclosure. Yeah, what is that all about? I assume it dates from relatively recent times, but was there once a Bronze Age cairn here? I’d like to think so.

Substantial defences notwithstanding, the location of this hill fort is surely its primary attribute, offering outstanding vistas in all directions, albeit views aided by the sun breaking through the morning’s overcast sky. Always a good thing. The pick is probably looking south-west toward Cadair Idris and Abermawddach, although Y Rhinogydd are ruggedly splendid to the west, The Arans rear up to the east, to the left of the aptly named Bwlch Oerddrws (Pass of the Cold Doors).... and northern Snowdonia completes the picture. Oh, and Rhobell Fawr certainly looks its best from here. I gaze across the valley to Foel Faner and debate with myself (a sure sign of madness) whether I’ve the time to visit Foel Offrwm’s ‘lower settlement’ just visible to the south. Dunno... probably not much good. Wrong!

I guess it’s fair to say that the reputation of Dinas Emrys precedes it somewhat..... a state of affairs that, I have to admit, has been known to depreciate the potential value of a site in my eyes in the past. Not a laudable behavioural trait, perhaps, but I reckon there are worse idiosyncrasies out there. Anyway, I reckon I duly absolved myself of any accusations of elitism courtesy of last year’s comic failure to ascend the right crag, an error compounded by a subsequent screening of ‘Merlin’ on TV. Never mind. As Adam Ant once said, ‘ridicule is nothing to be scared of’. Only the failure to try and correct an error when it is in your power to do so.

So, what’s in a name? Why are the (relatively) fragmentary remnants of this Iron Age hill fort, overlain with later medieval castle, accorded such a prominent place in Welsh lore? I mean it’s not as if Merlin actually existed, any more so than Ms Rowling’s bespectacled, mop-haired muppet? Well, for what it’s worth.. it seems to me that in an age before the dubious ‘delights’ of mass communication and TV, power politics was nevertheless still utterly dependent upon the ordinary peasant being sold a good story, one complete with iconic sets and characters. Needless to say, then as now, it didn’t have to be true! Add a widespread belief in the supernatural into the mix and this crag, magnificently set beneath Yr Wyddfa at the very heart of Gwynedd’s ‘natural fortress’, was just about the perfect location to stage your ‘battle of the dragons’ clash of cultures, the analogous bout naturally foretold by that man Merlin. Powerful realpolitik indeed. Wouldn’t have had the same impact if Harry Hill had said ‘So which dragon is best? Red or White. There’s only one way to find out. Fight!’.......

Hmm. How can any site possibly live up to all that? Seems an impossibility. But you know what? I reckon Dinas Emrys carries it off. As per last year (ahem) I approach via the way-marked path from Craflwyn Hall, the scenery very pleasant, bordering upon the exquisite where the Afon-y-cwm, crossed by a ‘clapper bridge’, cascades down from the rocky heights of Yr Aran (incidentally a lovely peak, that). The legendary fortress rises more or less due east, the final, rocky ascent by way of a narrow, wooded ridge from the north-east. Llyn Dinas lies resplendent in Nantgwynant far below, the classic, achingly evocative scene framed by autumnal vegetation of a hue somewhere between pink and brown... don’t think it’s got a name. The colour, that is. The Snowdon massif towers above to the north, the summits obscured by the almost obligatory cloud mantle. Continuing to the west I encounter the rectangular footings of the apparently medieval great tower and, beyond again, three lines of drystone rampart. Ok, these are much denuded, but are nevertheless a lot more substantial than I expected. Indeed it would appear the main approach to the enclosure was here to the west, the defences thus aligned to cover the ‘easiest’ approach. Easiest? Yeah, right.

The north-western outlook has another prize in the form of a wondrous vista toward Beddgelert, the Bronze Age skyline of Moel Hebog looming above all through a grey mass of vapour. Also worthy of note is the nearby hill fort of Dinas.... standing aloof and displaying a far more precise geometric profile than its illustrious eastern neighbour. Wandering to the southern edge of the crag I gaze down at the fast-flowing Afon Glaslyn, sourced immediately beneath Yr Wyddfa itself, and ponder that it would be difficult to imagine, let alone visit, a more strategically placed fortress than Dinas Emrys? Yeah, the pieces are falling into place.

The onset of darkness beckons so I decide I’d better be off. One can not be too careful, what with all these legends hanging in the air. For example it seems that the site has also been known as the ‘Hill of the Flaming King’, perhaps a reference to a solar cult? Needless to say the Celts were not adverse to a touch of sun worship. Clearly Dinas Emrys has played a fundamental part in shaping how this nation and its people view themselves. After (finally) coming here to experience it for myself.... I can understand why.

One of my first ever forays upon the Welsh hills – upon any hills, to be fair – was an ascent of Cefn y Capel from the Llynnau Mymbyr way back in 1990. Can’t recall the reasoning behind what seemed a massively daring adventure at the time (ah bless).... but clearly it struck a chord with the naive young chap. It’s therefore with a fair degree of nostalgia – a sure sign of advancing age – that I park in the lay-by opposite the western extremity of the aforementioned twin lakes, that is just east of the access track for Garth Farm campsite. If my memory – not to mention dodgy arithmetic – serves me correctly, a blue six bar gate allows passage through the substantial drystone wall bordering the A4086, so accessing the exceedingly steep southern flanks of the extreme eastern Glyderau, this the massif’s last ‘hurrah’ prior to assisting the south-eastern Carneddau in shepherding the unruly Afon Llugwy toward Betws-y-Coed.

Despite the relatively low altitude (for these parts) the angle of attack is such that reaching Bwlch Goleuni is by no means an easy skate. A minimalist’s dream ‘path’ is depicted upon the 1:25K map... however ‘up’ is as good orienteering advice as any. Several gnarled trees seem to mock my laboured efforts – exertions not assisted by driving rain – with their intransigent refusal to submit to the inevitable effects of Newton’s laws. Hey, why move when you’ve the best seat in the arboreal house overlooking Dyffryn Mymbyr, the exceptional retrospective views more than capable of taking my breath away. Assuming I had any left, that is. As I finally approach the bwlch the hammering downpour begins to falter before subsequently taking a rain-check. Appropriately enough. Now the long mound I’ve come to see is somewhat reticent, by no means immediately obvious. I like that. Clearly the people had class. Nevertheless I soon spot an arrangement of recumbent stones upon a suitably ‘long’ mound to the right of the path, the former recalled from TSC’s misc post. That’ll be it, then. It is.

The primary thing that strikes me about the monument is its complete subservience to... well... everything else in the upland plane. Surely whomever was interned here – assuming this is indeed a kosher prehistoric site – was well aware of his/her(?) limited walk-on part... of their supporting role in the great scheme of things. ‘Understated’ is the word I’m looking for, I think. If not, it’ll do. To emphasise the point great swathes of opaque vapour momentarily rarefy to reveal the angular, dark crags of Gallt yr Ogof rising to the north-west, the brutal mass of Y Carneddau to the north and the rocky-spined Moel Siabod looming across Dyffryn Mymbyr to the south. Both the latter possess their own funerary cairns, the former, as those familiar with the vernacular may have surmised, a prominent cave. The traveller assumes said cave has already been checked out for occupation by slumbering heroes / heroines? Haven’t done so myself, although the peak is a fine viewpoint, even with the incomparable dragon-back of Tryfan nearby.

As I hang out upon the long grass which subsumes long mound into surrounding hillside I reckon I experience – at least in some limited sense – a true intimacy between biological organism and natural environment. Yeah, relative scale overawes me, further lashing rain sweeping along the valley batters me, swirling cloud initially unnerves me.... but I do not feel out of place. Perhaps this reprises something of the vibe which drove those that erected this monument to do so here, if only in a somewhat trite 21st century manner? Sunshine breaks through cloud and it becomes a major drag to eventually vacate this wondrous place. However guess I must visit the iconic Dinas Emrys one day. The Bwlch Goleuni long mound might not have influenced national identity in the manner of that great hill fortress... but, for me, it accords precious insight into the way the early settlers of this hostile landscape interacted with their environment.

Snakes alive.

Carl rightly mentions his surprise at not finding any field notes here already, I don’t know what I was thinking, so here I am again, seven years later, god where does the time go, Eric was just four.
As pluses go, dragon repelling proprieties is a pretty
big plus for a standing stone, some stones point the way to somewhere, some stones stand round in circles, but this one is a dragon slayer, how cool is that.
It’s really not a far walk from the road, I parked blocking the gate to the stones east, if farmer came I could have it moved in a jiffy.
A very tall stone this one, at least twelve foot tall. A very rectangular stone it is too, specially at the bottom. Rough to the touch, except on the corners where sheep rub it smooth.
I think Craig Rhiwarth is visible from here, and Glan Hafon with it’s exceptional cairn, but most eye catching on the near western horizon is the volcano shaped hill with a half decent fort on it’s summit.
Good stone.

Glad I didn’t.

I had originally decided to leave this barrow for someone else to go and find, but with the nearby little cracker of Glan Hafon cairn with central boulder I couldn’t leave it out. Similarly I was going to leave Craig Rhiwarth hill fort off the list, but with another nearby cairn with cist and the loveliest of Welsh scenery i’ll be back up this way sooner or later.

It will be a long walk to this out sized barrow no matter which way you come from, I came from the east off Y Clogydd near Glan Hafon, the route passed several old quarry work sites, there are many in the Cwm. A footpath leads straight to it from the road though through the forestry area to the barrows west, if you just wanted to see the barrow.

Rhiannon’s Miscellaneous notes point out the barrows dimensions, 19 meters across and 1.5 meters high, and also mentions the quartz covering the barrow once enjoyed, even the boundary stone is there, I think. But sometimes numbers can’t do it the justice it deserves, so in plain speak, it’s a really big one, twice as high as me, and the footprint as big as a house. Pleasantly huge. The quartz is mostly grass covered now but in places the stone that one can see, be a gleaming white. On the barrows summit a big gnarled lump of quartz stands upright, almost mimicking a two stone row with the probable boundary stone.
You can see the barrow clearly from Glan Hafon cairn, but why cant I see the cairn from here, Craig Ty Glas cairn with cist should be visible across the valley east-ish from here but for the forestry trees. A gap through the hills south west reveals a sadly flat area of Wales leading on to the English border. But south is the massive lump of rock Craig Rhiwarth, cairns from the bronze age crown summits within an Iron age fort and later Hafods (summer highland farm dwellings)were constructed.
The views are worth the long trek alone, take a circular ish walk of five hours to see Glan Hafon cairn – Bedd Crynddyn barrow – Craig Rhiwarth, you’ll be glad you did, you’ll be knackered, but glad.

This Early Bronze Age settlement lays a couple of hundred metres south of the Nine Stone Close. There’s no upstanding remains between the two low rock outcrops that occupy the site apart from a small circular mound of stones. These may be stones of field clearance although the circular nature of it looks a bit weird if that’s the case.
We found a few flint flakes in the mole hills in the area.
G. A Makepeace described and excavated here in the 1960’s, whether this was published I don’t know but getting hold of the report may help in understanding the site.

A cairn with a difference.

I came across this site whist drifting through Coflein, it can be very addictive, those little blue spots could be anything, you never know what you might come across next. This is what they say about Glan Hafon cairn......Stone built circular kerbed cairn with large, probably natural, boulder in the center.......not overly descriptive is it, but tantalising all the same, even better though are the three photos Coflein thoughtfully supplied, ooh that’s different I thought, you don’t get many of those to the pound. Just two weeks later and i’m there laying hands on to that very cairn. Splendid.

It’s probably quicker and maybe easier to come at it from the north, off the small road that leads to Pistyll Rhaeadr, Wales longest waterfall. But I opted to come at it from the south, passing by on the eastern side the massive bulk of Craig Rhiwarth, it has a fort on top, and if time allowed I’d have a closer look at that too .(I didn’t)
There are, the map says, several footpaths leading up the way I want to go, but I could only find one and so after leaving the car in a wide farm entrance with plenty of room for tractors and whatnot I started my upward stroll in lovely last of Autumn Welsh countryside.

After the initial heavy up hill walk the ground levels out and you follow the Nant Sebon up into the steep sided Cwm Glan-Hafon.
After hopping over a stile next to an old farm building the path branches, taking the right fork then leaping the thin Nant Sebon the path then more or less goes straight up the hill following the even thinner Nant Ddial. After much huffing and puffing I’m at the top, there are several boulders scattered across the wide ridge between Glan Hafon and Y Clogydd. I turned left towards Y Clogydd, the cairn I was looking for wasn’t there but I did come across what ive now found to be Garned Wen clearance cairns and a funerary cairn. Duly photographed I move back to where the proper more interesting cairn must be.
Without much messing about I locate it fairly quickly, with that big boulder in the middle you’d have to be willfully negligent not to.

This site set me tingling, it is a real blinder.

The cairn is maybe ten meters across and almost a meter high, though really it mostly resembles a small ring cairn, because it dips down in the middle to accommodate the central boulder. I noticed that Coflein says it’s probably natural, but then there is the chance, all be it a small one, that the boulder was placed there intentionally. The cairn is mostly smack bang in the middle of the saddle between the two nearby hills, on the edge of the steep hill, looking across the valley to Craig Rhiwarth, which has a more than passing resemblance to the boulder itself. So if the boulder was there first and the cairn thrown up around it, then the boulder was very fortuitously placed.
Then one wonders where the burial was placed, is it in the cairn or under the boulder ? a small recess leads under the capstone, if that is what it is, heck for all we know the bottom of the boulder could be covered in cup marks. I could locate only one or three definite kerb stones. The boulder has a large broken off lump at it’s western end.
Also seen from here is Bedd Crynddyn, a large tumulus that I had decided to leave to someone else, until I found another reason to come up here, so that is my next destination.

The view is just gorgeous, blue skies and fluffy white clouds and lots more hills, but mostly it is all about Craig Rhiwarth, from here it presents its eastern end, massive, rocky and daunting, there is no way up that way. Behind the hill fort the Tanat Valley lies in shadows today, far along it east towards Oswestry is the Viper stone, a tall and very good looking standing stone that guards the locals from a marauding dragon.

A very good site, with a view to die for.

Eerie mountain

Alken and I are out for another highly enjoyable day mountain climbing, low clouds have put us off inner Snowdonia today so we settled, no not settled, used up a contingency plan and headed for Bala, or as my Aussie cousin would say Balaah, and the Arenigs.
The twenty sixth highest mountain in Wales is Arenig Fawr, at 854 meters it is not going to be a pushover.
A some what lonely mountain, at least when compared to the height of the other hills around here. We start the walk from the thin lane north of the mountain, it is at first an easy walk, Eric would have no doubt pointed out it’s ease of access by bike, a land rover would be quicker and it could be driven all the way to the edge of Llyn Arenig Fawr. The llyn is quite lovely, we could have sat and watched the wind pushing patterns across it’s surface for far too long, but the top beckons, as it always does.
The top is hidden from view though by low clouds, and many false crests. It is here, as we start to gain some height that the Eeriness starts, there is not much wildlife at all, not even any sheep, the odd bird flits by about once every hour. I, we have been up mountains maybe what you’d call “lots of times” but ive never been this tired out, my legs hurt, my chest hurts, it is hard going, and the rest spots are coming all too infrequently. But we slog on. Soon the rest of Wales begins to disappear as we ascend into the clouds. Up on top of a subsidiary peak called Y Castell we have to cross over a wire fence and follow a vague path that looks like it’s going the way want to go, the rain is falling and my hood is up, my only view is of the ground a few meters in front of my feet, I look up and notice the bright and vibrant colours of the grasses, pinks, oranges, reds and browns, so rich in hue that you want to bend down and inspect each plant individually. I had to blink my eyes, maybe something was wrong with me, looking at other things helped, my camera, my feet, Alken, no it wasn’t my eyes, the floor was really that pretty.

We are up in the clouds proper now, there is no down, only up, with hints of sideways. We pass through a boulder field on the side of the mountain, some as big as a small shed, but all of them are as weather eaten, as gnarled as any ive seen, it is very much a lunar landscape, only with cloud and drizzle.
A couple of times we think were near the top, we even thought we could see the cairn above us, but it was always just a bit further, hiding in the mist, then showing us just enough to know where to go, and would you guess it, it was up.
Eventually the real, honest to god top of the mountain reveals itself, cairn, trig point and all. We’ve made it, but the usual elation, the wonder of it all has been replaced with cold wet hunger. We sit and consume butties, they’ve never tasted better.
Another climber approaches the cairn, he says hi, we give him one back and he sits in the other shelter in this cairn, yes it’s big enough to accommodate two walkers shelters. He’s soon gone though and we have the top to our selves again, cameras out , we do our best to show this place in as good as light as possible, which is hard in this drizzle.
It is a big cairn, despite the shelters and the trig point intruding upon it, and even though it is supposed to sport some kerb stones I saw none that I could comfortably say that is a kerb stone.
The views this way and that would I presume have moved me to some sort of poetic prose, but they were not here today, logic dictates that the rest of Wales and the world is still out there somewhere, but I couldn’t swear to it. It’s time to go now i’m not quite sorry to say, time to walk through different worlds back to our own, the high world in the clouds gives way to the lunar landscape, then through bright grassy world to the half way world, where here can sometimes be there. Not much sense to be had here today this is an eerie landscape, deathly quiet except for the wind which seems to come suddenly from no where then fade away, looking about us we can see mists being blown in several directions at once.
I wondered what ancient man would have thought of life and death on a mountain side, he could have hardly have thought it less magical than myself.

I must have passed this gate house on the Liff brae hundreds of times as a kid .
Not the first time that rock art has been incorporated into a building , a  more common feature in Perthshire .

Stones in the dark.

After a big climb up Arenig Fawr, we had time to spare so we decided a stop off here at Branas Uchaf would be a good end to the day, but it was getting late and would most likely be dark when we get there. But no matter how little we could see, or how hard the camera would have to work, it’s usually better to be there than not, if it wasn’t then you’d have to say that blind people should never go to some stones, they should.
We parked right next to the fence, ignoring my previous fieldnotes, but it was late, we hadn’t come across other drivers on the way here, nor did any come by whilst we were there. Not springing lightly over the stile we ambled over, in the way that only someone whose just climbed a mountain can.
No time at all later and we were on the mound touching stone, which is nothing at all like stroking wood. My camera was the worst at penetrating the darkness, until I pointed it at something nearer then point back at the stones and keep real still. Presently, it’s started raining, very lightly, but the only evidence of the sparkly sky water was when the flash went off, I thought I was seeing things at first, had an aneurysm decided to pop now ? here ? as good as place as any to go I thought. But it was just rain.

I enjoyed this little night time visit, it was funny coercing the camera into action, stumbling around in the darkness it reminded me of playing football in the dark when I were a lad. Good times.

It would be tempting to speculate that this deceptively well sited monument was so named in honour of Pumlumon’s greatest (known) son, Owain Glyndwr. Well, seeing as we are obviously ignorant of the identities of the numerous other great persons once interned in the iconic ‘Mother of Rivers’ myriad upland cairns, surely no one could argue with the selection of Shakespeare’s ‘worthy gentleman exceedingly well read’? Then again this could all be spurious conjecture on my part... the name-checked celebrity the late, much lamented Bill Owen from Last of the Summer Wine? Hey, I’d go with either.

‘Compo’s Cairn’ certainly has a bit of a ‘ring’ about it and, to be fair, appears appropriate to my (admittedly idiosyncratic) mind as I struggle up the steep, southern flank of Cerrig yr Hafan in driving rain, not at all impressed by the accumulation of household rubbish within the abandoned quarry at its foot. Yeah, sadly the old mine/quarry tracks to be found here offer easy access to those in possession of a 4x4... and beyond all help. And to think this is my third attempt to see the cairn. Er, come again? Well, I first noticed Carn Owen last year across the Nant-y-Moch, basking under a peerless blue sky during the ascent of Drosgol. Needless to relate the ‘morrow dawned in appalling fashion.... and an attempt last month was curtailed by the closure of the trans-Pumlumon road at both ends. Bastards! Isn’t it strange... and primitive... how the desire to ‘have’ increases with every successive denial, seemingly inversely proportional to the potential prize? Hence, despite having endured a typically turbulent night upon Pumlumon, I’m resolutely determined to be most probably distinctly underwhelmed this morning.... even if it kills me. Happily neither scenario occurs, although I did wonder about the latter for a second during the ascent. OK, a bit longer than that.

Struggling to the top I immediately encounter what looks like a reasonably large, grassed-over cairn. No bad at all. However the map shows Carn Owen to occupy the very summit of the ridge, to the approx south-west. In retrospect this grassy monument is perhaps related to what Coflein cite as ‘small satellite cairns... noted to the north-east’? Perhaps. What is certain is the substantial size and excellent siting of Carn Owen itself, the monument located, as promised, at the summit of Cerrig yr Hafan (’Haven Stone’?). The stone pile is a superb viewpoint, worthy of Glyndwr himself in my opinion, particularly looking down upon the Afon Cyneiniog to the approx west, not to mention south toward Llyn Craigypistyll and Disgwylfa Fawr, hill of Bronze Age ‘canoe’ fame, no less. The vista of Pumlumon across the Nant-y-Moch reservoir upon the northern arc is pretty good, too.... would be even better in clear weather with the main ridge standing proud of cloud. Yeah. But then you would wake up...

There is a wee problem, however. It is far, far too windy to stand anywhere but in the cairn’s lee. Consequently I’m obliged to sit. Well, better than involuntarily prostrating myself, head first, in homage to past heroes. As you might expect the centre of Carn Owen has been badly disturbed over time, a notable volume of material subject to slippage. However there is a welcome, unexpected detail in the form of a small stone setting (a cist perhaps?) to the immediate north-west. Nice. What’s more, the sun sees fit to break through for a while and make doubly sure I’m truly glad I persevered with Carn Owen. It may well be upon Pumlumon’s periphery – and not rise much above 1,500ft – but this is surely a final resting place for heroes.

If you fancy it the easiest approach – although, as mentioned, not necessarily the most salubrious – entails parking above the northern extremity of the Nant-y-Moch Reservoir (same place as for Drosgol), that is a little before the cattle grid and track leading down (eastward) through woodland toward the water, assuming arrival from Ponterwyd. A prominent track heads diagonally uphill here (approx south-ish). Follow this and, upon reaching an abandoned quarry, veer very steeply uphill to the right. Worth the effort. Incidentally it would also appear possible to combine a visit to Disgwylfa Fawr if you fancy making a full day of it?

The puzzle’s end.

I spotted this cairn from the road last time I was up this way a month or two ago, it wasn’t on the map so I wasn’t too sure if it was what it looked like or if it was wishful thinking seeing cairns where there are none. But upon returning home I found it on the 1,25000 map and it was on the Portal, so it was added to the list, top priority.
Handily there is a small parking place for one just right where you’ll jump the fence, if your that way inclined. I very much am so it took no more than ten minutes from car to cairn.

Upon reaching the top of the hill I came across a weird stone construction before I got to the star of the day. It was a dimple in the ground with low stone walling on one edge, I took it to be some old mine working place wotsit. Cows were conducting a standing sit in upon the cairn so I give it a wide birth to begin with, checking out what can be seen from the cairn, I was not much surprised to find good views of the three principal hills in the valley, High Wheeldon, Parkhouse and Chrome hills.
I wondered why the cairn was not on the top of the hill, so I walked up to it, just to see if there was anything there already, like another cairn, but there was only a low tumbled wall. But from up the top of the hill I could see that the view, the hills seen from the cairn could be seen from the hill top as well. I think they put the cairn at the bottom of the ridge, but at the top of the steep part just to bring the position of the cairn closer to the hills and the valley running through below them, as if they just wanted to be together, to be part of the collective, “were with them”.

The cairn itself is possibly the biggest cairn in the area. It is wide, about six feet high, and has a low linear spread of loose stone right across it, north to south crossing the center.
peppered around the cairn are half a dozen badger holes, I say badger only because of the size of the holes, I could have crawled into one or two of them. A big tree has grown up on its eastern edge, aiding in pinpointing the cairn from anywhere and giving shelter from rain or a hot sun.
This cairn, Hatch-a-way cairn and the peak of Parkhouse hill are in quite a good alignment.

Following on from a morning spent at the excellent Fron Camp, early afternoon is characterised by a series of very heavy showers. Nevertheless, with an hour or so available before I must push on to Pumlumon for the night, the Caer-din Ring, sited immediately west of a high level moorland road penetrating the Clun Forest uplands, appears to fit the bill nicely, thank you very much.

Heading east(ish) past St John’s Church (below Fron Camp) I take the very steep first left (Mardu Lane) subsequently veering left again soon after. The road climbs toward the summit, providing some excellent panoramic views as it does so, the ancient enclosure eventually seen crowning the rise to the left. After a bit of customary indecision I park at the entrance to the access track for Foxhole farm, more or less opposite the site. Another torrential deluge hammers upon the car roof.... but unfortunately I’ve no time to lose. A couple of farm workers career by on quad bikes flashing each other a smile as if to say ‘what a nutter!’ Hey, the thought had crossed my mind as well, to be fair. Mindful that barbed-wire fences and expensive waterproofs are mutually exclusive, I head down the road a short distance to use the gate before making the short ascent to the enclosure (as it happens there is another gate near the cattle grid to north-west).

The initial bank encountered is not part of the main enclosure defences, appearing to have been erected to provide additional screening protection to the most vulnerable eastern flank of the site, therefore suggesting that the Caer-din Ring was indeed a serious defended settlement... and not a fortified animal pound as I tentatively surmised from earlier conjecture. Always nice to be proven incorrect in such a manner. The main bank rises to approx 6ft and encloses a significant area (see TSC’s misc note). However it is the location, not the archaeology, which is surely this settlement’s primary asset? The downpour having taken an appropriate rain-check, the sun takes the opportunity to break through the cloud mantle to periodically illuminate the landscape. In such light the views to be had from the Caer-din Ring are found to be truly wondrous indeed, particularly looking toward the southern and western arcs. Hey, I’m even able to pick out Castle Idris, a visit there having been abandoned earlier in the day. Looks well worth another attempt, to be honest. As I walk around the circumference, breathing in the oxygenated goodness, all manner of land rovers, 4x4s and quad bikes pass by on the road returning from somewhere or other. Clearly something’s been going down in the locality. Nothing to do with me, of course. But then why would any decent person have an issue? Exactly. It would appear the people of Clun Forest are just that. Decent.

Yeah, pity I’ve not more time, but there you are. ‘Take what you can get’ would appear sound advice. Now, however, Pumlumon beckons.... and I can not resist the siren’s call.

As appears to have become custom, my annual October wanderings in North Wales are again subject to a prelibation further south, exploring a little more of the Marches and Mid Wales. Now the allure of the latter for an upland antiquarian is perhaps obvious, the wild landscape, dominated by the legendary Pumlumon, an idiosyncratic synthesis of the stark, grassy beauty of South Wales’ great escarpment with the uncompromising rock of Gwynedd. But what of the borderlands, the rolling hills presenting a softer, arguably more classical vision of natural beauty to the passing traveller? Well, appearances can be deceptive, of course. Just as the sublime, scarlet poppy fields of France mask so much past human turmoil, punters looking a little more closely here will notice the shapely green hills of the Marches are crowned by a preponderance of hill forts and lesser fortified enclosures, the valleys dominated by the crumbling stone castles of the Norman Marcher Barons... literally a law unto themselves. Yeah, things clearly weren’t always as serene as they now appear.

One such hill fort occupies the south-eastern extremity of Fron, overlooking the small village of Newcastle, the site but one of a trio (as far as I’m aware) of defended enclosures in the southern locale of the Clun Forest. I approach from Clun itself, the town dominated by the gaunt ruins of its Norman castle, heading west along the B4368. At Newcastle, the name no doubt a reference to the motte sited beside the River Clun a little to the south-west, I follow ‘Church Road’ to park beneath, appropriately enough, St John’s Church. Nowadays churches make me very uneasy with their oppressive death cult vibe... so, without further ado, I ascend the bridleway to the edifice’s immediate right and, veering steeply uphill to the south-west as later directed, arrive at the nicely compact Fron Camp.

According to EH (see link) the univallate defences are (externally) c10ft high to north-west, facing the path of least resistance, and c9ft elsewhere, enclosing an area c269ft (SW-NE) by 344ft (NW-SE). So, not bad at all. Unfortunately the southern/south-western arc is very overgrown. That aside, there are excellent, far reaching views south-east toward the Clun Valley, not to mention a particularly fine section of Offa’s Dyke upon Graig Hill to the north-east. Ah... Offa’s Dyke, that great 8th century earthwork which, to me, represents the physical embodiment of the fault line between the ‘tectonic plates’ of opposing cultures that were integral to shaping the past of this area. Violent times.

Such historic strife seems an almost unfathomable impossibility as I relax upon the northern bank, drink my coffee, get soaked by rain and then bathed in sunshine.... all the while pondering the serenity which reigns supreme here this morning. Yeah, surely human kind, in general terms, has advanced since those days? C’mon, even just a tad? As I wander to the north-west and view the enclosure’s defences from without... I reckon so. The bank is impressive for such a small site. But what a sad reflection upon us as a species that such-like were ever needed. Needless to say still are in many places. However, having – just – survived blowing ourselves and the planet to nuclear oblivion perhaps we have a fragile launch pad available to us now. Not for Minutemen ICBMs, but perhaps an allegorical one to build a better future?

Fron Camp is ‘mirrored’ by another settlement, Castle Idris (I assume name-checking... very unusually for the area... the giant of lore), to the approx west, although forestry negates intervisibility. However I find parking below the site to be an issue so, with time at a premium if I wish to reach Pumlumon by nightfall, decide to pay a visit to the Caer-din Ring instead. Hey, you can take your pick in these parts.

Visited: April 7, 1989

Macleod’s Maidens, the best known sea stacks on the coast of Skye, lie some 7 kilometres south of Orbost, just west of Idrigill Point at the southern tip of the Duirinish peninsula. They are reached by a generally good path, first through woodlands, then emerging on to undulating moorland with stunning views across Loch Bracadale. The Maidens lie below 70 metre cliffs, the tallest of the three—also the tallest on Skye—rising 63 metres above the sea, flanked by two smaller pinnacles.

When you return to Orbost, it is worth initially skirting the clifftops for a kilometre or so, as far as Ard Beag, to view the fantastic cliffs and arches far below.

A quartet of large Bronze Age cairns stand upon the summit and western flanks of Carn Fflur, a substantial, afforested hill rising to c1,650ft a couple of miles south of the Cistercian abbey at Strata Florida (Ystrad Fflur). Despite the pedigree of the monastic site – the poet Dafydd ap Gwilym is thought to be buried within its environs, accompanied by numerous Welsh princes of Deheubarth – I’d probably raise a somewhat quizzical eyebrow in surprise... Roger Moore style.... should any member be able to pinpoint Carn Fflur’s great cemetery on the map at the first time of asking. No cheating now. Needless to say we will never know the identity of the Bronze Age forbears once interned within the great stone piles; however I can’t help feeling they should be accorded at least the same respect as their illustrious followers. A naive notion, perhaps?

I approach the ‘Cairn of Flowers’ from Bryngwyn Bach, the unassuming high ground to the west. Now there are at least two good reasons for this; primarily to visit the excellent half dozen Bronze Age cairns located upon the latter’s north-western slopes... and also to avoid sinking, possibly without trace, within the unfeasibly boggy valley separating the western bank of the Afon Fflur from the lower hill. The river, sourced upon the flanks of Carn Gron to the south, certainly appears to be the focal point of this landscape, not least for an almost ‘Pumlumon-esque’ concentration of funerary cairns. It is very difficult not to assume at least some correlation between these monuments and the naturally exuberant, flowing water.... the very epitome of vitality, of life itself. Not that I feel that ‘vigorous’ – at least in the physical sense – as I struggle to cross the deep gulley inexorably carved in the hillside.

Carn Fflur’s western cairn lies just beyond at SN73956233, although not depicted upon the current 1:50k OS map. According to Coflein it is a..“probable ring cairn, c.16m in diameter & 0.75m high set eccentrically within a possibly later turf-covered stony ring, c.36m in diameter”. Although the least substantial and well defined cairn of the quartet, not to mention rather overgrown, the site possesses a large, well preserved cist. Can’t argue with that. Next up is a nice round cairn set upon the north-western slopes of the hill at SN74206245. “10m in diameter & 0.5m high”, the outstanding feature is the “remains of an orthostatic kerb-ring on the S & W..”

So, onward and upward to the summit? Er, not yet. Since set upon the steep rise to the approx south of the northern monument at SN74276228 stands a massive cairn which, to be honest, appeared much more substantial than the dimensions attributed to it by Coflein (“24m in diameter & 1.5m high”). The location is excellent with far reaching views to north, west and south toward Carn Gron, the summit cairn of Carn Fflur rearing up upon the eastern horizon to complete the set. The cairn possesses internal detail, Coflein noting “a central disturbance / hollow revealing possible cist elements”. Yeah, I concur with that. In addition there is “an embayment on the NW side & an annex, 6.0m across on the NE, are thought to be original features”. Clearly this was – is – a complex, enigmatic monument. What is it doing here languishing – or should that be ‘revelling’ – in utter obscurity? I’m truly gob-smacked. And that’s a fact.

I finally clamber up through woodland to the top of Carn Fflur to find the summit cleared of trees. Unfortunately this has resulted in a hill top perhaps resembling a landscape in the devastated aftermath of a hurricane strike. Not a pretty sight. There are compensations, however.... yeah, the large round cairn crowing the summit “25m in diameter & .8m high” is accorded sweeping views, except upon the eastern arc where forestry still prevails. Although by no means the largest such sentinel cairn I’ve had the great pleasure – not to mention privilege – to spend some time upon, this is a fine, well preserved example of the genre. Again Coflein cite “a central hollow shows possible cist elements”. Regrettably I found the internal space defiled by a beer bottle discarded by some individual with ‘issues’. The beer was of classy origin. Very unlike its erstwhile owner. Needless to say it is there no longer. Anyway as I sit several rain fronts sweep in to give me quick ‘working overs’. Soon, however, they are gone and the sun illuminates the scene with a golden glow. Aye, perfection, my perch the ideal spot to observe the surrounding landscape. Carn Fflur might not be the biggest of peaks, even relative to Mid Wales. But it certainly doesn’t disappoint in the vibe stakes.

Walking – nay, wading at times – back to the car (no doubt much to the amused bemusement of the farmer working the field across the river in his tractor) I deliberate upon how Strata Florida has laid claim to the ‘spiritual’ musings of the majority of visitors to this part of Wales. As for myself.... I much prefer the high ground .... of Carn Gron and Carn Fflur. If you decide to come, please make sure you don’t lose your bottle.

[Note: all Coflein quotes are courtesy of J.Wiles (22.07.04)]