Latest Fieldnotes

27/12/2012 – Parked near the top of the Horseshoe Pass. We started the day by visiting the cairns on Cyrn y Brain. Once back at the car we took the ridge west to Moel y Gamelin cairn and then on to Moel y Gaer hillfort. I had not realised just how up and down the walk was (do they do flat round here?) and was quite tried but happy when we reached the fort. What a great place for it! Wall best viewed on west side. We sat for a while watching the rain making it’s way towards us then carried on to Moel Morfydd before it got too bad. Took the footpath on the north side of hill back to the car. Worth mentioning is the Ponderosa Cafe opposite the car park. Very friendly folk and good value. (I had pasty, chips, peas and gravy – Happy Christmas belly god).

26/12/2012 – It’s been a while since I was here. I remember a pretty miserable trudge over Kinder to camp at Hayfield for the night as a teenager, many moons ago. Today we parked in Hayfield, opposite the campsite and set off walking past Tunstead to climb the west side of Kinderlow to the cairn. From the 427m mark on OS map to the cairn it gets quite steep but it is a nice walk with the view getting ever better as we climbed. The cairn is grassed over but has a few visible kerbstones. At around the 600m mark the view from the cairn is fantastic, looking west to Manchester and beyond. The weather was kind to us today, with the sun coming out as we reached the cairn. Well worth a visit and a pretty good way to burn off the Xmas pud as well.

Unfortunately I don’t have a great deal of time to spare upon finally coming down from the warm – did I say warm?! – seductive bosom of Mynydd Carnguwch.... seeing as it appears both my car headlights have blown, bulbs ‘shorted out’ by some electrical surge. Yeah, although sadly I reckon the alternator’s the culprit, as opposed to bombardment by magical cosmic rays. So no need for Mulder this time around .... always a need for Scully, however. Whatever, I’ll still need to get back to camp before it gets too dark. Or risk the very unwelcome attentions of the black-clad, ‘machine gun wielding’ heddlu.

Garn Bentyrch appears on the map to be but a minor deviation from my quickly improvised route ‘home’ – via Porthmadog and Beddgelert.... hey, probably not much there anyway, but worth a look nonetheless. The craggy hilltop rises to the north(ish) of the small village of Llangybi, so named after a certain St. Cybi, apparently rather fond of holy wells.... funnily enough I’m getting an image of TMA’s Goff here, although no doubt lacking the self-effacing humour. Ffynnon Gybi, the ‘holy’ water in question, is signposted from the main road and reached by way of an attractive public footpath beside a rushing river... aren’t they all around here? I ascend the hillside to the right of the ancient buildings harbouring the spring which, needless to say, is incorrect.... the path actually climbs through woodland to the left, as I duly ascertain on the way down. Nevertheless it’s but a short pull to the summit of Garn Bentyrch and the subsequent realisation – albeit a very welcome one – that, not for the first time, there is much more here than anticipated by the weary traveller.

In summary, the ancient fortress appears to consist of a small, very powerful, bivallate enclosure supplemented by a larger, less well fortified enclosure to the approx north-west.... the latter for general living and the protection of animals, perhaps? To be honest the innermost defence line looks out of context, a massive, collapsed dry stone wall which, judging by the ‘dry stone field boundary to end all dry stone field boundaries’ which bisects the site in the eastern quadrant, was once much more substantial still. Coflein quotes Frances Lynch (1995. CADW: A Guide to Ancient and Historic Wales Gwynedd p197) as stating that ‘The triple defences are probably of different dates. The innermost ring with its thick, high stone wall may be early medieval; the other two lines consist of walls and banks and are probably prehistoric with later alterations and additions’. I’d concur with that. Frances will no doubt be pleased....

The outer ring of the inner defences is, to my mind, worth the price of admission alone – not that there is any monetary toll to be paid in this instance – consisting of a fine, grassy bank standing favourable comparison with many an ancient enclosure feasted upon by these eyes over the past decade or so. As noted the ‘fort extends its eastern arc beyond the aforementioned massive field wall, the latter no doubt plundered from its very fabric. Bearing that in mind... perhaps the dedicated may want to take a look? I couldn’t possibly comment.

So, Garn Bentyrch remains a very impressive ancient fortress, possibly adapted, South Cadbury style, to serve as home for some early medieval Authurian-style warlord? And of course the views are simply stunning.... from the jaw-droppingly feminine profile of Mynydd Carnguwch (with Yr Eifl and Tre’r Ceiri as close consorts to the right) to the approx north-west.... to the isolated, fortified crag of Moel-y-Gest rising above Pothmadog to the (approx) east... the Rhinogydd standing serried across Tremadog Bay.... the Eifionydd taking it easy under the not unusual cloak of vapour...

A couple of hours here are not enough. But they are all I have and it is time well spent.

I’ve been here many times and never once have I taken a satisfactory shot of the place. It’s on the left-hand-side of the track that you take to get to Ballymaice passage grave.
The forestry is planted very close to the edge of the ditch of the rath, but the west arc of the site is the most visible. This is yet another of those sites that I’d love to see cleaned up.

I’ve wanted to come here for ages... but then I always find it difficult to prise myself away from the psychological embrace of the high mountains whenever I’m up north, you know? However dawn ushers in a thick carapace of low cloud to envelope the peaks of central Snowdonia in opaque, clammy vapour.... the mountain gods’ equivalent of sticking a ‘Do not disturb’ sign on the outside door knob. So why not take the opportunity to head for the Lleyn Peninsular today? Why not, indeed? The bwlch at Drws-y-Coed affords this motorist access to Dyffryn Nantlle, and hence the A499 coastal road. There are worse. Heading south-west(ish) I take the B4417 toward Llanaelhaearn beneath the towering triumvirate of Yr Eifl.... the innermost summit of which is, incidentally, crowned by arguably – no, probably – Wales’ finest hillfort.... Tre’r Ceiri.... the ‘Town of Giants’. But then you get superlatives like that around here. Such as the truly massive cairn upon the hill opposite.... Mynydd Carnguwch. Yeah, tell me about it. I continue uphill before taking a minor left opposite a public house (the name of which unfortunately now escapes me), carrying on across a crossroads in a vaguely south-easterly direction prior to swinging to the left around the base of Mynydd Carnguwch itself. The road is a ‘dead end’ in the strictly technical sense only, boasting excellent views to the coast before terminating – in its tarmac guise at least – at Carnguwch Fawr farm. A little beforehand, just past the buildings at Ty’n-y-Mynydd and cattle grid, it is currently possible to park upon ‘waste ground’ partly occupied by piles of assorted aggregate, should you so wish. I do, as it happens.

A dry stone wall, seemingly defying Newton’s law in that inimitable Welsh style, acts as my guide upon the very steep ascent of Mynydd Carnguwch, the mini-mountain rising behind me to the north all the way to 1,179ft (359m). It seems much more. Needless to say there is a ‘false crest’ half way up – just to take the piss, you understand – but nevertheless it is not that long before the great cairn rears up on the horizon... although not before time! And ‘great’ it surely is, certainly amongst the most substantial of Snowdonia’s upland cairns I have had the privilege of meeting to date... possibly numero uno, in fact? According to Coflein the monument is:

‘A ruined, dressed rubble-revetted oval cairn, 17.7m NE-SW by 11.6m and 3.2m high, set within a c.40m by 30m area loose rubble, thought to derive from its colossal wreck (source Os495card; SH34SE8) RCAHMW AP965031/68 J.Wiles 14.03.03‘

However, as is more than often the case with these Bronze Age stone piles, it’s where they put this one that really matters, the sheer bulk ‘merely’ the ‘cherry on the top’, if you pardon the analogy. As mentioned, the bulk of Yr Eifl dominates the northern view, Tre’r Ceiri to the fore. Yeah, it seems inconceivable that people actually lived up there... but there you are. Just because there doesn’t seem to be a logical answer, doesn’t mean it didn’t happen. The evidence speaks for itself. The central Snowdonian mountains, still blanketed in the morning cloud, rise to the east(ish), and no doubt would furnish a mesmeric skyline under clearer skies? However today I guess the finest vista is that of the Lleyn Peninsular itself stretching away to the south-west, filled as it is with wondrous portal tombs, hillforts (such as Carn Fadryn) and, oh, much else.

But what of the cairn fabric? How do you describe a whopping great pile of rocks other than eponymously? Well, as Postie mentions, the erectors of this monument made canny use of an existing rocky summit – hey, cheated! – in order to achieve an even greater effect than would have otherwise been possible with the same volume of the hard stuff... Foel Grach style. That said, the sheer volume of stone here is astounding. As usual the effort required is mind bogglingly incomprehensible. Consequently I sit, stare out to sea, watch light play upon the landscape.... and come to the conclusion that.... assuming ‘they’ were trying to achieve some sort of meaningful ‘statement’ to posterity upon Mynydd Carnguwch back then.... attempting to communicate a sense of who they were, how their community saw the landscape they inhabited, how they came to terms with existing at that moment... I think they were successful.

There are no stones, no cairns, no rock art here, not even a hill fort, I’ve struggled for years to justify adding this natural feature. Eric and me went here on the solstice so at least iv’e got some pictures to add. But it does have some ancienty connections, it is almost exactly one mile west of Capel Garmon. Between the Glen and the burial chamber is a rocky outcrop called Dinas Mawr, Dinas of course usually meaning a settlement of some sort but there is no hill fort there. At the eastern end of the Glen two rivers meet, The Afon Conwy and the Afon Machno, at the western end of the Glen two rivers meet the now bigger Afon Conwy and the Afon Lledr. Even without the meeting place of three major rivers I believe it would have been one of those proto temples and would have been well known by the builders of Capel Garmon.

My first trip here was with my brother and parents over thirty years ago on one of our annual holidays to North Wales. Then when I passed my driving test you just couldn’t keep me away, I came with my mates, with an ex girlfriend on my own and even at night once, I know the place well. The time before this visit the place had changed somewhat, A car park had been built, a new path to the gorge, with an honesty box, confound these money grabbing newbies, we payed and saw the glen. That was over ten years ago, at that time I felt it lost some of it’s charm, so to review that position a return visit was due.
We parked the car in the car park, room for a dozen cars, and made our way to the new path, passing the honesty box Eric suggested I ignore it, but I just couldn’t, I didn’t have the right change so I chucked in what I had. Half a minute later and an old man chased us down pointing out I hadn’t put in the right amount and he had change should I need it. Confound these newbies. He gave me the right change, and I pointed out that we never used to have to pay all those long years ago and he said Au contraire people have been paying for two hundred years, there used to be a man in a hut down the lane taking pennies off the tourists. Bollocks. Not since the moon landings have I heard such claptrap, I know the hut he means and there was never anyone in it, there was a slot in it for money we presumed but no message of its use, so it was free. As free as the air around and the water running through the gorge. Bloody newbies.

We carried on to the Glen, it was a much longer walk than it used to be, but it was as beautiful as ever, thank god . The water was high, very high, it’s best appreciated in low water and high summer, the sun pouring down through the narrow gap, mayflies bobbing about and dippers dipping and so on and so on. Beautiful.
Back up the slippy slate steps there used to be a place where you could cross through into the next property and follow the gorge along , there was even a place where you could climb down into the gorge and sit on a big rock in the middle, it’s the best place in Wales, but no more, high barbed wire topped fences bar the way. The only place your allowed to now is the entrance to the Glen, and look longingly up the river to the gorges narrowest place.
Confound these newbies.
We left, energised by the rushing river and raw natural beauty, but bitterly disappointed at the curtailing of gorge exploring.
Confound bla bla bla!

How can you talk about these stones without mentioning those blooming pylons, they are there, get over it, move on.
The two big stones stand maybe 60-70 yards apart northwest – southeast of of each other. The north west stone is just over six feet tall and squarish with flat top. The southeast stone is about eight to nine feet tall roundish in section and pointy topped, I struggle to not to bring up male and female associations. Both stones have other numerous smaller stones in close attendance.
I cant recall how many times I’ve been here, but it hasn’t been this misty and damp before. We are wet and cold now so it’s time to dry off and warm up whilst we drive over to Capel Garmon.

Another Barclodiad y Gawres can be seen almost perfectly west of here 25 miles away on Angelsey, but the two are very different monuments.
This Apronful of stones is much smaller with no big chambers or rock art and is also in a very different kind of place, Angelsey’s is right by the sea, you cant even see the sea from here, this Apronful is very much mountain oriented.
The two big stones of Bwlch y Ddeufaen are very close and visible to the north west. Just to the north across the track is one of those natural burial chamber type things.

In the middle of the pile of stones is a hole, a scoop, a depression where supposedly a cist/chamber was once to be found. The cairn is actually much larger than the stones on the surface would suggest, approximately twice as large. I have been here before and posted a couple of images, but strangely no field notes, but I no longer have any pics on my computer so that is partly the reason for my return visit. It is also so close to Cerrig Pryfaid that to not come up here would have been very remiss.

My last field notes for Cerrig Pryfaid ended like this “Oh well winter comes round every year, but I don’t.” But maybe I do. Winter solstice upon us, short of funds and time we headed west for the mountains of Eastern Snowdonia again (as you do) hoping to see the sunrise from this often overlooked but always giving stone circle.
Eric and I arrived still in pitch black and deep mist, we had twenty minutes snooze in the car park and got ready for a walk back down the road. Eric pointed out that we could probably drive back and leave the car blocking the road as no one but us were daft enough to be here at this time and in this crappy weather, I had to concede he was probably right, so we did.
It was still quite dark after climbing over the wall in the appropriate place and the clouds were too low to permit a decent sunrise. Damn and blast !!!
For the first twenty minutes I had to use the flash on my camera, but soon the views began to clear of mist and normal light was resumed.
I remember Tiompan say that the sun rise at the winter solstice rises between the forted hill of Pen y Gaer and its near neighbour Pen y Gadair
The stone I had dubbed the winter solstice stone does point between these two hills, how can one stone point ? its wide at one end and thin at the other, if you wanted to find a stone that points this is the one. But that is not all, the stone I had dubbed the equinox stone forms a line with the winter stone and the gap between hills, the gap between hills is rather a wide one and without the sun I cant say where in the gap the sun would rise. The stones suggest the sunrise would be more closer to Pen y Gadair than Pen y Gaer ( see picture).The winter stone itself is pointing at roughly 132 degrees, that I reckon is good enough for me, for me, I have discovered something I think is new to Cerrig Pryfaid, plenty of people have remarked upon the outliers but no one has put forward a decent explanation, Till now ?
So, another winter goes by, another end of the world averted, (last of the chicken littles I hope, now can we get on with building a future we can look forward to for ourselves) I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again I’ll get it one day, the only way I can prove this definitively is to get a bunch of know it alls up there in perfect weather on the winter solstice. One day.

Firstly a confession. I actually planned to visit this very obscure stone circle back in September last year... yeah, had the map co-ordinates and everything... until I proceeded to lose them like a prize muppet, consequently spending the time at the wondrous Carn Gafallt cairns instead; not a poor substitute, it has to be said in my defence. However one of the annoying idiosyncracities of ‘unfinished business’ is the manner in which it manifestly refuses to stay filed away in that compartment within the subconscious labelled ‘for future action’. Oh no, the brain – at least mine – doesn’t work like that, instead wheedling its way into conscious thought when least expected; hence one year on, I’m back. No choice in the matter.

Dawn arrives over the Elanydd – incidentally not far from the Roman camp upon Esgair Perfedd – accompanied by close-set fronts of vicious, driving rain. Nice. One would have thought a good spot for locating a reservoir or two.... Thankfully, however, the clouds possess not so much a silver as a golden lining, sunshine breaking through the intervals in the mantle to flood the landscape with light of an incredibly intense hue .... the sort of intensity that only occurs when the atmosphere has literally just been cleansed of its impurities. Magical. Mustn’t waste this. So, heading toward Rhayader, I veer right along the B4518 before crossing a bridge signposted ‘Elan Village’. Following the minor road to Llanwrthwl, climbing steeply past Cnwch farm, I park at the entrance to the tarmacadum road giving access to ‘the Clyn farm’ (if you pass Talwrn farm you’ve gone too far). Another rain front hammers upon the car roof and I wonder what motivates me ... what drives me... to do this? No really, what? To be honest, I think I know. Perhaps one day I will find the appropriate words. As I step out into the downpour the farmer approaches. Appropriately in the conditions he ‘fishes’ for information. ‘Returning, or just off out?’ says he, or words to that effect. Put on the spot, I volunteer that ‘I might just go have a look at the cairns marked on the map’....in a torrential downpour... and wait for the incredulous retort. It is not forthcoming and, consequently, I’m intrigued. I go for broke, waiving an arm vaguely to the south-west... ‘and apparently there’s a stone circle somewhere up there I’d like to see’. It seems there is and the farmer’s bloody well proud of it. He gives me directions.... ‘stand with your back to the trees and head for the cairn upon the far ridge.... the circle is just before the final rise to Y Gamriw’ (or something like that). Blimey. Top bloke, a credit not only to himself, but to his family and to Mother Wales. See we CAN get along if BOTH sides act like adults, treat the other with due respect. Needless to say one good turn deserves another, of course, the Essex boy helping to move the farmer’s herd of cattle down the road prior to setting off uphill.

Passing the forestry I revert to type and, instead of following the farmer’s directions, proceed to make a right pig’s ear of finding the ‘circle by logically seeking out the OS co-ordinates as given [note that these have been subsequently amended – and I reckon are more or less accurate!] In short, the ‘circle is not where it should be, that is just below the south-western end of the rocky ridge that is Crugian Bach. Plan B is to orientate myself upon Y Gamriw’s prominent cairn – as, er, advised – and walk forward in circular sweeps until (eventually) I notice an orthostat which looks ‘wonky’ enough not to be a boundary stone.... but something ever so much older. Aye, it is.

Coflein states there are 18 stones incorporated within the circumference of this stone circle. Perhaps, although some are so diminutive, so (apparently) inconsequential that I reckon only a thorough excavation could arrive at a definitive count. But then again, so what? The largest standing stone here would probably go unnoticed at Avebury.... yet the vibe here is – in my opinion – so far in advance of that justly famous site as to be beyond compare. It really is. Don’t get me wrong, I’m awed by Avebury. But here I feel as if the very landscape itself was deemed so special, so evocative, that anything other than a distinctly underwhelming demarcation of a sacred space was thought to be taking the piss out of the gods residing upon the surrounding high places. The pattern is indeed repeated across Wales... inconsequential uprights standing beneath the high peaks. Nevertheless this clearly represented the real deal, at least for the people dwelling in the shadow of Y Gamriw millennia past, if only because both Coflein and CPAT cite numerous outlying standing stones and cairns in the immediate vicinity. Obviously there was a lot more ritual activity occurring here than might immediately be apparent to a casual visitor. Ha! As if a ‘casual visitor’ would ever come here! A further point of interest in this otherwise archaeologically low key stone circle is the presence of a centre stone – according to my experience, as well as that of a certain Mr Burl (by all accounts) this is pretty unusual.

I stay and enjoy the exquisite vibe for – I think – some three hours. Time seems to have little meaning here as the sunlight illuminates the moor and Y Gamriw broods above. Some natural sequences appear, well, simply meant to be. Inevitable. Eventually, however, the farmer’s earlier complete acceptance of my wish to see ‘the cairns’ becomes too much. I must go take a look... what does he know that I do not? Probably quite a lot...

Some landscapes are iconic, taking the breath away through sheer force of imagery sent cascading along the optic nerve, a tidal wave of electrical impulses temporarily ‘short circuiting’ the brain. The appeal of others, however, is not so direct, less obvious, more subtle; dependent upon the non-visual complement of senses available to us humans but, arguably, woefully underemployed nowadays. In my opinion The Radnor Forest falls into this latter category. Set within a border ‘no man’s land’ north of The Black Mountains, there is to my mind a real sense of inherent insularity to be found here... local hills reserved for local people, so to speak. Perhaps this has something to do with knowledge of an MOD rifle range located within Harley Dingle, the deep valley driving a north-south cleft through the very heart of these mountains? Perhaps.... but I reckon there is more to it than that, something that can only be provisionally understood by donning the boots and venturing into the ‘mists’, preferably not the literal kind of course.

New Radnor is key to an attempt to further your knowledge of these uplands, an attractive village still retaining remnants of medieval earthwork defences, not least a substantial Norman motte and bailey castle, the sort of place I (almost) wish I didn’t have to disturb with my presence. From Water Street turn right onto the B4372 and then immediately left to ascend a minor road past the aforementioned castle. I park up a little beyond at the entrance to an old quarry... in my ignorance. In retrospect – as long as your car is happy enough with steep inclines – I’d recommend carrying on to park in a forestry car park at the road’s terminus. Yeah, save yourself a very steep bit of road bashing at the start. Just prior to the forestry a sunken bridleway heads left, subsequently veering to the right (north) to ascend the tree line. The retrospective and western views become more expansive with every (laboured) step, but it is that which eventually materialises through foliage to the east that I’ve primarily returned here to see.... a veritable ‘Silbury-esque’ natural cone whimsically called ‘Whimble’. How good a name is that? Marvellous. The ‘Silbury’ analogy is valid only to a point, however, since Whimble is much, much larger, rising to as near as dammit 600m at 1,965ft. In addition it’s what lies on top – rather than what lies within (if anything) – that is of interest here..... a stonking big, grassy round barrow.

The climb to the summit of Whimble is not overly taxing, relatively speaking, from either the west or, in particular, the north-east. Sadly the summit ridge is not of uniform profile being much disturbed by quarrying, although Coflein nevertheless cites a possible enclosure here. Fortunately, however, the round barrow remains very much in existence. Coflein gives the monument’s dimensions as being ‘19m in diameter and 1.2m high.... a more recent cairn, 11m in diameter and 0.6m high, superimposed upon it [(source Os495card; SO26SW14) J.Wiles 14.10.04]’. To be fair it seemed much more substantial when on site.... perhaps the scale image I’ve added is more conclusive? What is not in doubt, however, is the sublime nature of the views to be had from upon the barrow. It would be a cliche to state they are worth the effort alone, but ‘if the cap fits...’ Here the ‘cap’ happens to be a fine prehistoric monument in a more than reasonable state of preservation.

Looking west across Harley Dingle three great gulleys – The Three Riggles (right on!) – can be seen adorning the eastern face of Great Rhos, a striking landscape feature. To the north the gaze is directed across the craggy flank of Whinyard Rocks, one of the few incidences of naked rock in an area noted for its paucity, toward Bache Hill, fractionally higher at 2,001ft and boasting a much more substantial round barrow. There are other examples located upon the intervening ridge, including another of very significant proportions. To the approx north west the summit of Black Mixen is surmounted by an ugly antenna (is there any other kind?), an unwelcome companion to yet another large monument. Rest assured, there are more. To complete the picture – and at the risk of labouring the point – the fine ‘Four Stones’ four poster (funnily enough) lies below to the approx south east, the apparently once extensive ritual landscape in the vicinity of Walton beyond, not to mention the great Burfa Camp... and Offa’s Dyke itself. South, of course, lies the eastern flank of South Wales’ great escarpment. Yeah, Whimble is thus a classic spot to sit and..... just.... ‘hang’. Eventually, however, I must reacquaint myself with Bache Hill and its ancient wonders. 17 years after the initial event. Is it really that long? ‘fraid so.

As mentioned above, one of the barrows upon the subsiduary south-western hill remains substantial, the others, eroded away to varying degrees, extend in an arc towards the north-east.... and the main monument crowning the summit of Bache Hill itself. This is quoted by Coflein as being:

‘A round barrow, 20m in diameter and 3.0m high, diched, with traces of a counterscarp. There are indications of possible excavation trenches and an Os triangulation pillar atop the mound (source Os495card; SO26SW11) RCAHMW AP965028/66 J.Wiles 09.09.02‘

3m? I can well believe it. Yeah, this is truly an excellent round barrow... a real beauty in fact. To say the location is also rather good would be a bit of an understatement, too, to be fair. Owing to the topography the views it oversees are (arguably) not as dramatic as those from Whimble, but I reckon this fact is countered somewhat by the much more ‘isolated’ vibe to be enjoyed here... a sense of wilderness, of being in the ‘middle of nowhere’, neither in Wales nor England, but in some ‘otherworldly’ place defying adequate definition. Perhaps the cloud sweeping in, thankfully at altitude, colours my perception somewhat? Perhaps I should leave it at that? Whatever, sitting upon Bache Hill’s summit is a good place to be.

I return to the car via the western flank of the mountain, the gaping void of Harley Dingle a sight to behold, what with Whimble towering above it to the left. I reach the car at dusk. Out of time, the forestry car park seems an appropriate place to spend the night. Indeed it does.

I revisited Tinkinswood having heard of the work carried out during the summer. The quarry area as you approach is now clearly marked and accessable which is brilliant. You can clearly see debris in many of the adjoining fields and the size of some of the stones show the size of this project. The newly installed wind up information point was working and infact very informative.

The chamber itself is imposing as it always has been but I do detest that pylon and those overhead cables!

This is my first visit to a Long barrow with access inside. What a great experience. The silence was defening. You can really feel the pressure inside from the weight bearing down on top of you from the structure above. Needless to say I loved it. I only went in approximately 10 feet but the passageway seemed to extend on forever. I felt a bit like Alice in wonderland staring back out of the rabbit hole!

As already stated previously, the lane down to the car park is very tight and especially wet this time of year. Wellies are a must as the footpath up the hill is also very wet and muddy and some older clothes will be coming on my next trip to get further inside the chamber!

I also took a few photos, with the farmers permission, of the WW2 pillbox in the field opposite the car park. A strange location for such a thing out here in the sticks which got me thinking whether in a few thousand years will there be people visiting these sites of historical interest?

The setting for this site is really quite breath taking! I visited on the 4th of December 2012, The view of the surrounding valley at dusk as I arrived was awe inspiring. The stones themselves are very interesting and the ease of accessability is a massive bonus (literally six feet from the small car park). I sat here, as you do, contemplating until the sun finally passed behind the mountains opposite.

Coming straight from a – it has to be said – magical visit to the Dinas hill fort to the (approx) east... featuring enigmatic warrior burial and glorious views... Pen-y-Castell might well have proved an anti-climax, a disappointment. That it is nothing of the sort could mean I’m easily pleased; or that Pen-y-Castell is simply a great site in its own right? Needless to say this is no doubt a rhetorical question... utterly subjective. For what it’s worth, however, I reckon the latter option holds sway.

For one thing there is no direct comparison between the landscape context of the two sites. Not at all. Passing the llynnau of Blaenmelindwr and Pendam along the Penrhyn-coch road from Ponterwyd, I park up opposite the dwelling of Bryn-goleu. My (library sale) OS map helps, but is not conclusive... I decide the public footpath heading downhill to the left is a better bet than the unmade vehicular track. The thought occurs..... ‘why am I heading down hill to a hillfort?’ Surely this can’t be right? I guess the question is valid at the time. However in short order the hill fort is visible below, rising above the ‘Rheidol Study Centre’ through a break in the forestry. I’m reminded somewhat of Exmoor’s wondrous Cow Castle. Ok, this isn’t in the same league, but then again... what is?

The soggy footpath directs me to tarmac and hence a path following the left hand bank of a small lake, the hill fort rising upon a hill.... funnily enough.... to my left. Ignore the initial gate unless you have fingers of steel – I can not for the life of me open it and am aware that people at the ‘Study Centre’ may well be ‘studying me’ – since there is an ‘official’ entrance a little further along. The ramparts are but a short climb away, an apparently prehistoric monolith yours for the visiting en-route, if that’s your bag.

The setting of the enclosure is sublime, if not as dramatic as the previously mentioned Dinas, with an excellent, open panorama to the west contrasting with encircling hills to the other points of the compass. The natural defences are more than sufficient, the ground falling away sharply except to the east where, as you would expect, the main (only?) entrance is situated. The single bank is more substantial than I expected, albeit subject to significant erosion in places, damage which nevertheless affords an insight into construction techniques, as noted previously by Kammer. Another feature of the site is the presence of a number of boulders of no discernable function; I’ve noticed these at a number of Welsh hillforts... what were they for? Surely some genius out there has a theory? Whatever, Pen-y-Castell provides a fine, evocative hang for a few hours.

So, Pen-y-Castell solves the conundrum of ‘how to follow Dinas’... by being completely different, there being no relevant criteria for comparison. Hey, I can live with that. Still, it’s bloody weird ascending a steep hill on the way BACK from a hill fort to the car. Right on! I can live with that, too.

I have visited the site several times this year as it is fairly local and a real hidden gem. Access to the site is excellent, with parking opposite the gate and a very short walk up a slight incline. I love the place!

Now I’d been saving a visit to this prosaically named hillfort for a spell of clear weather in order to do justice to the views it obviously possessed. Nevertheless today I find myself leaving the sanctuary of the car to ascend to the ancient fortress, perched at the northern apex of a rocky ridge... in pouring rain. Eh, how did that happen? Yeah, as John le Mesurier might well have laconically observed ...’Do you think this is wise, sir?’ He’d have had a point, too, since mist swirling around summit crags surely does not promise great vistas. However my ageing waterproofs begin to ‘wet-out’ as soon as I step outside and the climb from the bridge to the south, as Kammer notes, is not overly taxing relative to Pumlumon. Besides, I can always come back.

The single rampart defining this enclosure is not particularly powerful but, to be fair, it had no need to be, not with topography such as this to provide overwhelming natural defence. Coflein reckons the hillfort is:

“...pear-shaped, 107m N/S by 51m E/W. Hogg (Cardiganshire County History 1994, 270) described the rampart as `’a stony bank, about 5.5m wide and just over a metre high externally.’... The original entrance, an unelaborated gap, is centrally placed in the rampart on the south side and commands panoramic views to the south. T Driver, RCAHMW, 15 September 2004.”

Ah, ‘panoramic views to the south’; not that these are immediately apparent, of course. However as I undertake my usual (ritualistic?) circuits of the banks the ‘unseen hand’ of Mother Nature clearly takes pity on the sodden traveller, quickly dispersing the annoyingly opaque vapour along with its residual aqueous cargo. Ah, that’s better. Always good to be able to see what one’s doing. The Afon Rheidol, it goes with out saying keeping its reservoir duly ‘topped up’ in the circumstances, provides the water feature to the east and south-east. That lying below to the west is the Nant Dinas, as you might expect from the general nomenclature utilsed in the area. To the north-west Disgwylfa Fach watches (appropriately enough) over the site, its Big Sister, complete with massive round cairn (the source of those enigmatic ‘dugouts’), looming to the right. Below to the north-east, across the Rheidol, sits the excellent little cairn circle at Hirnant; whilst the main Pumlumon massif dominates the northern horizon. Yeah, it would have been a shame to miss all this... let’s just say I had an inherent feeling I wouldn’t. Or else was just plain jammy, for once?

Coflein cites the existence of a number of possible hut ‘platforms’, a certain example located near the centre of the enclosure. Other points of interest include the incorporation of the summit crags upon the western flank in the defences, as well as a possible original cross bank. But wait; this being Pumlumon, there’s more. Controversial, too. It short it seems that during 1938 – the year after THOSE excavations upon Disgwylfa Fawr – what has been described as a ‘hurried burial’ [R.S. Jones, Cambrian Archaeological Projects, 2004] was discovered here featuring ‘human bones and ‘plate armour’’ within a stone cist... as reported within the Western Mail of 6th Sept. 1938 (’Historical Finds on Welsh Mountains’). ‘Plate armour’? As with the ‘dug-outs’ located further north, guess it’s all a question of interpretation. Was it an Iron Age inhumation, with a slab of the new ‘stuff’ as grave goods... or that of a medieval knight fallen in the battle local legend attributes to the site... a warrior who, by all accounts, must have been deemed quite a dude?‘

Hey, the cloud may have left Dinas today.... but the nebulosity, it seems, remains....

Visited 29.11.12

Directions:
Take the B4263 north through Abertridwr and then Senghenydd.
Continue through Senghenydd and take the minor road across Eglwysilan Common.
Just past the brick building/fencing on the left there is a large parking area (near the pylons) – park here. All you then need to do is follow the track west towards the next set of electric pylons – about a 10 minute easy walk.

It was a beautiful day. Dark blue sky, not a cloud in sight. High above jets formed a criss-cross of white vapour trails. There was no wind and all was silent. Even the sheep seemed to equally be enjoying the day. The rutted track had many large puddles, all frozen solid after the overnight frost. It was a great day to be out ‘old stoning’. On such a clear day the Brecon Beacons could be easily seen in the distance. More closely the windows on the houses in the village of Senghenydd sparkled in the afternoon sunlight.

The only things to spoil the atmosphere were the pylons (which I guess we have to accept) and yet again, the amount of litter, beer cans and burnt out mattresses etc (which we most certainly do not have to accept). What is it with some Valley’s folk? I have been to many sites in the South Wales Valleys and they all have one thing in common – dumped rubbish. Why do people do this? After all, it’s not exactly an easy place to dump rubbish. Why not take it to the tip or call the council out like normal people? The older I get the more despairing of people I get. I know it’s only a minority but illegally dumping rubbish in South Wales seems to be a popular hobby!

Anyway, onto more positive things.

Before visiting this site I had a look to see what COFLEIN had to say:
‘On Eglwysilan Common several tumuli opened in 1753. The urns were all broken by the workmen – they each lay upon a flat stone and another over them. One of a group of 3 cairns located on Mynydd Eglwsilan’. Sounded promising.

The first Cairn you come to is very easy to find. Next to the track on the right, just before the electricity cables, near the wooden footpath sign.
It consists of a large deposit of grey stones, spread out to a diameter of about 15m and a height of 0.5m. Patches of ferns growing through the Cairn.
Several kerb stones could be seen – some covered in grass. The kerb stones above the ground were covered in moss. The Cairn has a pronounced ‘rim’ surrounding it.

The second Cairn is another easy to spot – about 20m further along the track on the same side. It was more ruined than the first and was approximately 8m across x 0.3m high. Basically another file of grey stones, partly grassed over.

The third Cairn is also straight forward to find (although I went too far uphill and it took me a while!). Walk along the track and as soon as you come under the electricity cables it is immediately on your right. The centre of this Cairn has a large hollow dug out of the middle and again, is very ruined. You could hear the buzz and crackle of the electricity running through the cables.
I wonder what the ancients would have thought of it all?

On such a nice day, in such a nice location (ignoring said pylons and rubbish) I sat for a while and contemplated the meaning of life. No, I didn’t come up with any answers!

All in all an easy site to access and well worth a visit when in the area.

Visited 29.11.12

This Cairn is slightly north of the Carneddi Llwdion Cairns.
Only problem is I couldn’t find it!

COFLEIN states:
‘A flat topped grass covered cairn. There are many large stones protruding from the surface and two large kerb stones’

Visited 29.11.12

A day off work all to myself and not a cloud in the sky.
Only one thing for it then – a bit of ‘old stoning’!
Not much money and not much petrol so something close to home required.
Looking at my Cardiff and Area O/S map I spot a couple of sites I haven’t had chance to visit yet. That’s that sorted then.

The first of these are the two Cairns called as ‘The Bryn’ (The Hill)

After eventually navigating my way through the maze of roads in Penyrheol (just outside Caerphilly) I park up on Heol Chwarrel Clark.
** Due to road changes you will need to enter Penyrheol from the east off the roundabout on the A468 and NOT the way I first tried, from the west off the B4263**

Despite there being a heavy overnight frost I only needed a light jacket as the sun was shining and most importantly there wasn’t a breath of wind so it felt a lot warmer than it actually was.

It took 10 minutes to walk up the steep road which leads to the farm only to discover that I could have driven all the way up and parked at the entrance to the Eglwysilan Common; just over the cattle grid. Still, it was a nice walk and the exercise won’t do me any harm!

The Cairns are easy enough to find, all you have to do is follow the track used by the forestry people until you come to a padlocked metal field gate which gives access to the forestry plantation. Although my map shows a forest, it has now all been cut down and replanted with saplings – approx 6 inches high. This means spotting the larger of the two Cairns is an easy task. A further 15 min walk from the farm.

Now, my friends, comes the bad news:
I carefully walked over to the Cairn, not to step on the saplings, and climbed to the top. I then looked down in horror.
The centre of the Cairn had been dug into so much it resembled a crater.
But much, much worse was the fact that this ‘crater’ was being used as a bin. (Presumably by the people who cut the trees down as I can’t see how this much rubbish could have been generated by anyone else up here?)
It was a complete and utter mess. Bags and bags full of beer and cider cans, food wrappers and the like. It would have taken a mini skip to have cleared this lot. It has clearly been used as a bin for quite some time.

I could talk about people’s ignorance and contempt for ancient sites (particularly someone’s final resting place) but I would be wasting my breath. It is not often I feel anger – but I felt angry now. My anger was only matched by my shock and horror.
The Cist slab which Coflein talks about was clearly not going to be seen by me today.

I sat on a tree trunk and surveyed the situation.
Here I was sat on a desecrated Cairn in the middle of a forestry plantation that had been taken to the saw. All around was the spoil of the ‘harvest’. The Cairn itself seemed to be wearing a crown of dead tree stumps – it seemed apt somehow. The who area felt ‘dead’ although no doubt once the new trees start to grow it will feel different? This was not a place to dwell for too long – far too sad.

The smaller Cairn showing on the map I couldn’t even find. It must have been buried under the debris of the tree felling.

The only positives I can take from my visit is that the Cairn has not been replanted with saplings and I did pick up a cross section of tree trunk which I took home for Dafydd to take to school to show his teacher and the children about how to date a tree from the number of rings. I guess most of the children won’t ever get out to these type of locations to see for themselves? Dafydd of course knows better!

COFLEIN states:
‘Two cairns on ground falling gently to the west. The larger cairn is 24.4m in diameter and 2.5m high – centre deeply hollowed exposing a cist slab. 23m north is the smaller cairn, 4.5m in diameter and 0.3 to 0.9m high’.

An E-Mail to CADW is in order to inform them of the state of the Cairn.
Perhaps they can have a word with the forestry people?

Certainly worth a visit but be prepared for the rubbish – unless of course it has been cleared up by then?

I’ll begin with an admission: I didn’t actually intend to make my way to Pumlumon’s summit today, a sojourn upon Y Garn the relatively modest limit of ambition. However these mysterious uplands of Mid Wales are intoxicating, truly beguiling to this traveller. Lacking – for the most part – the stark, angular rock formations to be found further north in Snowdonia, the attraction here is more subtle... more, well, feminine..... with an innate strength of character. Consider Katherine Hepburn, if you will. Yeah, Pumlumon’s contours are generally soft, rounded, the frequent veneer of mist perhaps reminiscent of the alluring movement of silk across the female breast, representations of which the ancients saw fit to erect upon their summits. How can a man resist? As it happens all is clear today, but nonetheless, perched upon Y Garn’s great cairn, I am drawn to Pen Pumlumon-Fawr as a moth to the flame.

It is further than I anticipate, much more so than I recall. Ha! Truly, my eyes and memory doth deceive me, the hamstring beginning to tighten as I swing north to follow the fenceline along Pen y Drawsallt to the summit (a handy guide should you find yourself engulfed by the mist.... not so beguiling then, it has to be conceded). Despite such physical ‘idiosyncracities’ I duly approach the top after a little over 30 minutes, the first of a trio of cairns, erected in north-south alignment upon the summit ridge, crowning the skyline. It is a fine monument, seemingly more or less intact and utilising the bedrock to great effect. According to Coflein:

‘The southernmost and best preserved cairn on Pen Plynlimon-fawr. It is 55ft in diameter and about 10ft in height, including a modem cairn on top.... The cairn appears to be founded on a natural boss of rock.... (CADW Scheduling description, 1993)’.

Nice, a great spot to hang out for lunch and take in the majestic, extensive views toward distant southern Snowdonia and the Elanydd, not to mention the coastline of Cardigan Bay and Pen Pumlumon-Fawr’s myriad supporting, cairn-endowed peaks clustering around mother... with the added bonus of avoiding the walker punters drawn to the summit as ferrite to the magnet. Ah, yes. It has to be added that, although a worthy cairn to crown the summit peak of Pumlumon, this ‘un actually sits a little below to the south. The reason for its survival, no doubt. Guess we should be grateful for small mercies.

Sadly the 2,467ft summit is actually home to a massive, sprawling – it has to be said – shattered mess of a cairn set a little further up the ridge to the north. I have to admit to conflicting, mutually exclusive emotions as I stand beside the OS trig pillar and survey the carnage... overwhelming, breathless wonder at the fabulous vistas stretching to every horizon, humility at the sheer priviledge of being here on such a day as today... alternating with the realisation that here resides a monument with a dual purpose, recognising not only the considerable, back-breaking efforts of our ancestors, but standing also in mute testimony, a damning indictment of sheer ignorance engendering mindless, pointless ‘walker’ vandalism perhaps unequalled in all Wales? Yeah, what have they done to what must originally have been a true behemoth of a cairn? Again, Coflein:

‘One of three cairns upon a summit of Plynlimon... c.10m in diameter & 1.0m high, having several shelters & an OS trig. pillar set upon it. (source Os495card; SN78NE9) RCAHMW AP955040/44-5 J.Wiles 16.01.04‘

Note the reference to ‘several shelters’.... speaking of which, two ‘tough’ Welsh walkers arrive to interrupt my bemused ponderings, attired only in T-shirts (for some reason). They agree with my observations regarding the loss of their heritage... before heading straight for the largest ‘muppet shelter’ to eat, cower from the wind and avoid the views. What is it with these people? I am loathe to share the summit with suchlike, taking my leave in order to view what is arguably Pumlumon’s ‘jewel in the crown’.... who knows, perhaps for the last time? I head north, passing another cairn, again cited by Coflein as being of Bronze Age origin. On this occasion, however, I’m not so sure – although the positioning is consistent, it just ‘doesn’t look right’, you know? Consequently I must reserve judgement.

Beyond, the summit ridge falls away to the north-east to form the crags overlooking the still waters of Llyn Llygad-Rheidol (the ‘eye’ of the Rheidol). As the nomenclature suggests, this mountain tarn is indeed the source of the Afon Rheidol, and how wondrous does it look nestling within its rocky bowl! I plonk myself down and ponder once again... Pen Pumlumon-Arwystli rises above to my right, the source of the Wye to its right, that of the Severn (Hafren) obscured by the mountain’s tri-cairned bulk. Panning north... Carn Hydggen, with a pair of massive cairns of its own, lies across the Afon Hengwm and..... yes, there they are.... the quartzite blocks of Y Cerrig Cyfammod Glyndwr shining in the sun beneath the (inevitably) be-cairned Banc Llechwedd-mawr. There is more. Hey, it’s easy to get carried away and forget I still have to get back down again with a tight hamstring. Hmm.

Time expires.... the universal constant. I decide to retrace my steps and so hopefully minimise any unforeseen eventualities and avoid any ‘tarmac bashing’. As the light begins to fail upon Y Garn’s massive cairn the horizon develops a pink hue that somehow seems to epitomise Pumlumon today. Understated, yet with an inherent character to take the breath away. Just like a certain film star from Hollywood’s golden age, perhaps?

Although this barrow survives only as a low tree surrounded mound. It is relatively easy to spot as it is sited by the roadside at the highest point of the estate road as it crosses Chatsworth Park.
The estates deer population often shelter amongst the trees.

To say how much landscaping has gone on in Chatsworth Parkthis barrow, although slightly disturbed at its centre, has survived quite well. Around 13m in diameter and about 1m in height.
Nearby, tree covered, Lindup Low is quite visible over the Park road.

Parking in Paxton’s model village of Edensor in front of the church. The barrow is a five minute walk across the parkland.

This and the Breta Ness promontory are highly reminiscent of the Loch of Wasdale in Firth where an island and promontory were seen as a kirk and its burial ground.

Visited 25.11.12

WOW – what a great place to visit!
I had read a lot about Danebury and am pleased to report that it didn’t disappoint.

The weather was menacing, with brooding black clouds all around.
Although for now, thankfully, it remained dry.

We parked at the first car park we came to not realising that you can drive up to the top of the hill into the main car park – where the toilets are (although they were shut due to the water levels in the reservoir?)

Dafydd decided that he fancied a walk and donned his waterproofs while Karen stayed in the car with the sleeping Sophie. By the time we reached the main car park he was already flagging!

It is only a short uphill walk across flat grass (much frequented by dog walkers) and you are soon at the entrance to the Hillfort.

There is an information board with an artist’s impression of how the entrance would have looked which is pretty good. The info board stated that seven other Hillforts can be seen from Danebury.

We walked up the wooden staircase and walked around the Hillfort in an anti-clockwise direction. By the time we got half way round Dafydd’s legs started to ‘hurt’ as they often do when walking any distance!

The rain stayed away (despite the looming clouds) and it was clear to see that this site was in a dominant position within the landscape.

As we completed the circuit (with me by now carrying Dafydd) the inevitable rain started to fall. We sheltered under the trees and I took one last look at the well preserved entrance and tried to imagine how impressive this site would have been when in use.

We headed down the hill back to the car and past yet more dog walkers – they seem to like this place as much as I do! Time to head home. A great site to end my weekend ‘adventures’.

If you are ever in the area this is a ‘must see’ site which is really easy to access – and signposted too!