Latest Fieldnotes

Situated just off of the Sheeps Head Way footpath. Called a 3 stone row/allignment by the National Monument Survey, but seems more likely to be the remnants of a wedge tomb. Set on a mound, one stone remains upright whilst the other two lay prostrate. Another stone lies embedded in the mound.The North Western stone has at least four cup marks on it’s surface.
Access is via a stile into the field.

Thesweetcheat and myself have been looking forward to this one for weeks, ever since his rummaging among Cofleins blue spots payed dividends with an unknown stone circle. Gladman’s pictures and ever eloquent field notes brought it to the fore and last Saturday we had our turn at finding this slightly contentious but essential to see stone circle.
As usual I picked Alken up at the railway station at 9 am, but unusually Eric the boy wonder was joining us on this Snowdonia’n expedition.
The weather was behaving itself, we all had our wellies, and our waterproofs, nothing seemed amiss, it should have, but it didn’t.
Parking was sought and attained by llyn Pen Y Gwryd, parking was 2 squid, we donned the bog walking attire, then it hit me, not only had I not brought my camera, I hadn’t even charged the battery, it had totally escaped my mind. Damn and blast, never have I been so remiss in my stone hunting, crap crap crap, I told myself it didn’t matter too much, i’ve got eyes in my head, I’ll just have to try to remember hard what I was seeing.

We started the walk by crossing the small river on a little bridge and followed the river up the very boggy hillside. This waterway also constitutes the boundary between Gwynedd and Conwy. En route upwards I noticed Alken had got left behind, I turned to see what was keeping him, he’s taking a picture of course, I was momentarily brought down, not for the first time today neither.
We reached as high as we needed to reach and followed the river towards Llyn Cwmffynnon, not seeing the circle immediately we squelched and sucked our way over to the rocks with the solitary tree, they always seem to know the way, no really, if you lose your bearings go to the nearest tree, take a minute and you’ll soon be sorted out.
From up on these rocks the surroundings really knock you for six, Glyders Fach and Fawr are large, close and very rocky, but like Gladman says it’s crazy Crib Goch and bumpy Bwlch y Moch that really keeps your eye, Moel Siabod across the valley seems just an after thought.
The tree did indeed have the answer, it was obvious from up there that the circle was back the way we’d come, nearer to the Llyn. So we waded off towards where we’d been directed, then above the heather I saw a stone, then another, and bingo, Eureka, Its here.

The circle isn’t circular, its an oval, an ellipse it is. There are five standing and three fallen. A large earthfast? boulder is approximately in the centre. I watch wistfully as Alken takes his photos, I concentrate on the stones and the surroundings, and Eric starts his motion to go. Quiet boy we’ve just got here.
The stones are quite different in their shape, one is thick and blocky, two fallen stones are sharp and pointy, another is wide and slim and set facing the side of the circle. We note from the compass that an equinox sunset would set behind Crib Goch, and maybe a winter solstice sunset would set between two prominent peaks perhaps Y Lliwedd.
Two walkers with nothing else to do could have set it up its true, but would they have chose this nasty bog to do it in, a nice dryish hill top isn’t far away, would that not have been a better choice. The only conclusion is that it must be ancient, and when they were erected it was dryer, any newness to the stones could be attributed to the constant submergence of the stones. Eric is by now needing food and the toilet, we agree that this is a bonafide stone circle and anything more to be learnt of it will have to wait for another time. We descend on the Gwynedd side of the river which turns out to be dryer, but only just.
Later that day I wonder what the weather will be like tomorrow and begin to hatch a plan to return the next day.

We do too, Eric and me take our bikes up to Aber falls again, and then race the failing light back to the stone circle, I marvel at Eric’s single mindedness to reach the circle before dark. Photographing the stones turns out to be harder than Id liked, the camera doesn’t like the dark and some were very blurry, I did learn something new about the place, but its just that i’ll have to come back again in drought conditions or snow and ice.
This stone circle whilst now situated in a bog is perhaps one pf the best placed circles in Wales, it certainly has the best view that i’ve ever seen from a stone circle.

Another visit 11.11.12

Dafydd came home with his ‘homework’ rom school which involved having a photo taken reading a book at an ‘unusual’ place (he is only 4 after all).

Ahah, thought I – I know just the place!
So off to St Lythans we went with Sophie in tow.

It was a lovely morning with a clear blue sky.
Although we passed a few peoplw visiting nearby Tinkinswood we had this site to ourselves.

We parked next to the audio machine which musch to Dafydd’s disappointment is already no longer working.

The area around the gate was muddy although it improved a lot the closer we got to the chamber.

A couple of photos later and we had a quick look around the tomb. As expected all was as it should be.

On Monday morning Dafydd proudly showed his photo to his teacher. I don’t suppose they had many photos from prehistoric burial chambers?!

Safely across and into the trees, the next barrows of the day are before me. Mutilated in the usual way, the largest of the Emma’s Grove round barrows is still an excellent example. I remain surprised that I seem to be only TMAer who has visited. Unfortunately this visit is hampered by snow that has turned heavier still, and I’m nearing my furthest point from home. But I’ve one more site to visit today, and as Macbeth would have it, I’m stepped in so far that should I wade no more, returning were as tedious as go o’er. Besides which, I never really like to retrace my steps, there’s always something new to see up ahead. Except today, when there’s precious little to see in any direction.

I continue along the Cotswold Way to Crickley Hill. By now the snow has started to fall again and as I sit at a bench in the picnic area for a welcome cup of metallic tea I’m joined by a magpie, appropriately enough on such a monochrome day. I salute and wish him a good afternoon, after which he departs, apparently satisfied that the necessary dues have been paid.

By the time I enter the fort itself, through the entrance in the northeastern rampart, the snow is threatening to turn heavy. Freezing mist reduces visibility and photos start to become splodged. Needless to say, I am alone here today. After a circuit of the rampart, I make my excuses and leave through the woods to the east.

The path climbs up towards the edge of the escarpment, joining the Cotswold Way as it enters Barrow Piece Plantation. This name records no dredged memory of a forgotten barrow, for here is one of the finest of the long barrows of the western Cotswolds. Tree-covered, even with mound mutilated and chamber wrecked, this remains a fine, upstanding monument, every bit deserving of its “long” classification.

Stark, black-limbed trees tower protectively over the white-shrouded mound laid out beneath their feet. There is deep peace here, in this quiet place. The only sound is the crunch of my footfalls breaking the crust of snow. I came here in winter once before, when a bone-deep cold threatened to strip the skin from any hand left ungloved for more than a few moments. Today, despite the snow, the cold is much less, almost an abstraction. How easy it would be to lie down in its warm blanket, nestled here amongst the sentinel trees.

But that way lies the fate of Dr Wilson and I depart, spotting for the first time the ghost of the nearby round barrow, its very slight existence revealed by the snow.

Just added a pic I took on 3 April 2011 when I decided to walk back from the falls to the car on the other side of the valley. Crossed the bridge over the stream and ascended a couple of hundred yards to begin the walk down and came across several ‘cairns’ that appeared to have been recently dug and left open. I had forgotten about these until today and have not read anything about them since. For anyone who has not visited Aber is strewn with random stones as well as the round house, ancient woodland all making for a fantastic landscape and is a great day out with sight of Anglesey/Puffin Island looking back from the falls. With its sheltered position, iconic waterfall and access to plentiful water it is clear why it was settled in.

It’s rather disorientating – odd, even – to return to a location after a prolonged absence, to stand at a spot where you last set foot nearly 20 years before. For me Carn Hyddgen is such a place, a (it has to be said ridiculous) map reading error having first drawn me to the twin cairns of Carn Gwilym in 1993. Simple arithmetic aided the conclusion that this was indeed not Pen Pumlumon Arwystli as I had planned. Yeah, three cairns into two doesn’t go. No such errors today.... I think Pumlumon and I understand each other a little better now. Although ‘She’ still refuses to make things easy, the terms still very much ‘take it or leave it’, the descent from Banc Llechwedd-mawr and re-fording of the Afon Hyddgen no easy skate... in fact I would say incorporating some of the roughest grass-land in Wales.

However all that is consigned to the latest batch of ‘Gladman history’ as soon as I reach the summit. The sheer bulk of the cairns, albeit greatly accentuated by later ‘marker’ edifices constructed from the copious base material, takes my breath away. The revised profiles – although when the revision took place is anyone’s guess (the miscellaneous entry refers) – are hauntingly evocative, particularly viewed against such an angry sky so full of character. In fact the vibe reminds me somewhat of Drygarn Fawr isolated, albeit to a greater degree still, in not too distant Elanydd. The vistas to be had from here are, as one would expect, similar to Banc Llechwedd-mawr across the bwlch. However the subtle differences, the variance in angle of shadow, in apparent landscape texture suggested by the play of light, in depth of colour... are all important. Perhaps the primary difference is the insight Carn Hyddgen affords the viewer of the ‘forgotten corner’ of Pumlumon, the north-eastern sector whence resides the monuments of Carn Fawr, Carnfachbugeilyn and Carn Biga. This evening the emptyness of the landscape is total, overwhelmingly so, populated solely by washes of sunlight dueling with shadow. Hey, I doubt if the ‘dark side’ ever looked so appealing? The question ‘why people chose to bury their dead up here’ never seemed so superfluous, so rhetorical. I mean... just... well... LOOK!

OK, perhaps it isn’t as simple as that. I confess it is an easy matter to get carried away when the mountains put on their ‘light show’. But surely theatrical spectacle was fundamental to the Bronze Age ritual experience, the timing of visits to these places specifically chosen to maximise the impact, to blow the mind?

Incidentally Coflein cites two further small cairns upon Carn Hyddgen as having Bronze Age associations – at SN7924290848 and SN7924390834. Bearing in mind the ‘amendments’ to the primary pair I must admit I’m not convinced. However, unlike during my 1993 visit, I have no need of maths this evening.

At 1,837ft Banc Llechwedd-mawr could be described as a minor satellite of the main Pumlumon ridge, complementing the marginally taller Carn Hyddgen rising across the bwlch carrying the main north-south route across this magical landscape. To my mind, however, that would be unfair. For one thing it is a superb viewpoint and... perhaps more to the point, particularly with reference to modern antiquarians... what it lacks in lofty pre-eminence is more than compensated for by its collection of ancient monuments. As you would probably expect here, its summit is crowned by a pair of Bronze Age cairns; in addition its eastern flank boasts two stone settings, not to mention the wondrously enigmantic quartzite blocks of Cerrig Cyfammod Glyndwr, although whether the latter were ‘placed’ in position by humankind, or the greatest power of all, is open to debate. Whatever the truth, clearly our forebears viewed this shapely hill as ‘special’.... perhaps because the shining white beacons were already in situ? So much to ponder, then.

There would appear to be two practical main routes to Banc Llechwedd-mawr, the creation of the Nant-y-Moch reservoir having reduced available options by, er, ‘adjusting’ the original topography somewhat: the first is a rather long trek from the north-western tip of the reservoir, starting below Carn Owen and, assuming you have the ‘puff’ (not I), taking in the pair of large cairns crowning Drosgol; the second, my choice, heads north from the Maes Nant activity centre, but involves fording the Afon Hyddgen at some point. ‘Horses for courses’, as they say. But hey, be careful out there.

The summit of the peak is a steep, straight forward climb from the legendary Cerrig Cyfammod Glyndwr. There is, of course, no path. The reward, the vista from the top, is equally legendary with Cadair Idris and the vanguard of southern Snowdonia forming a seemingly impenetrable demarcation between North and Mid Wales. Nearer to hand, the aforementioned Drosgol towers above the waters of Nant-y-Moch to the approx south, Pen Pumlumon-Fawr rising to the left. Immediately opposite, the Afon Hengwm leads the eye toward Pen Pumlumon Arwystli and its trio of massive cairns, the sources of the Hafren (Severn) and Wye located to left and right respectively. Not to mention the source of the Afon Rheidol beneath the sentinel peak of the ridge. Then there is the pair of monuments upon Carn Hyddgen. Cairns, cairns, wherever one looks...... speaking of which, the cairns I’ve come to see at close quarters are, at the very least, worth the not inconsiderable effort. The southern is by far the best preserved, seemingly unviolated and occupying a classic upland position. Ok, it’s not that large (relatively speaking), but perfectly formed. Think of it as Pumlumon’s ‘Kylie’, perhaps? Its partner to the north is much more ragged by comparison. However it incorporates additional dry stone features which are difficult to explain by reference to the usual destructive activities of muppet ‘walkers’ or husbandry of sheep. In fact Coflein – see miscellaneous entry – suggests these may be original? If so that is yet another reason for the serious Citizen Cairn’d to venture here.

As I sit and take in the vibe, overlooking the presumed site of Glyndwr’s ‘Battle of Hyddgen’ in 1401... hey, that was only yesterday in the scheme of things... the Pumlumon weather decides to show what it can do. When it can be bothered, that is. All of a sudden gone is the dull, drizzly, overcast.... overwhelmingly grey... sky, replaced by a vital, sunlit canopy which utterly transforms the colour palette defining the underlying landscape. Sitting here I believe I can see what Turner was trying to capture with his great skyscapes. If you are attempting to relate what it feels like to contemplate the biggest questions of all, why not use the biggest canvas of all? Makes sense to me.

Carn Hyddgen suddenly looks far more appealing than before. Well, you know how it is? The itinery is scrapped, visits to the two additional stone settings shelved, and off we go. Note the presence of another quartzite block on the direct line of descent, which, for me, strengthens the case for the Cerrig Cyfammod Glyndwr being solely Nature’s work. Or does it?

I must have been about ten years old when I first came here, on a field trip with the whole family whilst holidaying in Llandudno. The last time was maybe fifteen years ago, just as I was getting into all things ancient. How many times had I walked blindly past this, looking but not seeing, in my defense there is a great big waterfall not far from it, a big one that kind of grabs your attention. It wasn’t until the Portal alerted me to this well reconstructed round house, with, by gosh, a standing stone incorporated into the hallway, that I knew I’d have to come back, sooner or later. It was never going to be later though.
Alken was coming up for another foray into the wilds of Snowdonia so I mentioned it to him and he was all for it. Sonny boy Eric was with us too, chatterbox extraordinaire, my goodness but hes never quiet is he.

We payed and displayed, 2 pound, for, errmmm quite long, and we were off. It’s quite a long walk up to the waterfall, in days gone by I’ve followed the river up to it, in a gorge walking kind of way. Today though as with most wintry days daylight is in short demand so we took the direct route. There are often many people on the path, but at this later hour it wasn’t bad.
I may have inadvertently said to Eric that we could watch the sun go down from the Druids circle, but as the sun went down and he realised it wasn’t going to happen he got a bit grumpy. But only for a short while.
Today was also the scene for my biggest gaff yet, I had neglected to pack my camera, whilst we were out checking new and interesting places my poor camera was home alone, sitting under the computer. Booooo!
So without my camera, bereft of impetus, feeling a bit useless, I almost didn’t notice Alken pointing out a hut circle. Quite a good one too, Eric climbed the nearest tree, as monkey boy is wont to do, Alken took some photos, but I just watched, darn I miss my camera. Some big stones mark the outline of the earthy bank of this hut circle, you can see the passage into the house as well. Two big stones have made their way indoors, well, its cold out.

Further on and Eric is proving he really doesn’t know the meaning of hush, wittering on and bouncing round like a, well like ten year old. I’m beginning to pay more attention to the stones scattered around, we start seeing the hand of man all the way down the path, from up at the tree line down to the path, and off down towards the river. Once again Alken sees the hut circle that inspired our visit here first, i’m looking up to the left, when its down to the right, just yards from the path. It is exactly the way I saw it on the portal, only better, ‘cause we were there. A thick hut wall circles a large flat area, giving way to the passage into the house. There built into the side wall of the passage is the standing stone, almost six feet of pointy stony goodness. The lower inner half is covered in a bright orange lichen, almost luminous. Again I have to watch impotently whilst someone else takes the photos, it’s only now I realise how much I like taking pictures, a camera in the hand means the world cant be all that bad.
The last two hundred yards to the waterfall and its in full view, and it gets louder and louder. Soon we stand right before its watery magnificence, spraying our faces, smiling broadly Alken wipes his glasses, Eric stands on a big rock and salutes the rawness of it all by double punching the sky. The sun has gone down by now so we beat a hasty but reluctant retreat, as we get back to the car park a small cottage with lights on in the windows looks very very cosy.

I hated not having a camera, so Eric and me came back the day after, spending the last of my birthday petrol, but with bikes, and did it all over again. Smiiiile!

Visited 31st October 2012

There’s not much more I can add to what has already been written about what to me is the finest stone circle in Britain. Large enough to be awe inspiring, small enough to still feel intimate, remote enough to feel like you stand amidst the cyclopean remains of an ancient civilisation in the furthest flung corner of these islands, but accessible enough that you can drive right up to it (or roll up in a tour bus!). For me only Callanish comes close to giving this place a run for it’s money.

I’ve seen Brodgar in all weathers, only a few days ago it was snowing, I’ve also been here when it was so misty you could barely see the stones, and for a fantastic sunset, when in a Pythonesque moment a horde of photographers suddenly appeared from nowhere and proceeded to run around the circle with tripods, jostling for position, all of them in their quest for the best angle of the sunset through the stones. It’s no wonder as Brodgar is one of the most photogenic of ancient sites, and tonight, a clear Samhain evening we’ve come up to the circle to try some long exposure shots.

It’s cold, and a low mist clings to the henge ditch around the stones, amplifying the already otherworldly atmosphere. There is no sign of anyone else around, indeed this week on Orkney has been much quieter now we are out of season than our last trip in August, when regular visitors on the tour bus circuit could be guaranteed. We get our photos and as we walk away I look back at the circle, and marvel that something built so long ago can have such an effect on me today.

This is a place everyone who loves megalithic sites should visit, If I could only ever visit one ancient site again this would be it, my ‘Desert Island stone circle’! Brodgar is one of my special places, a truly sublime circle.

I’ve been curious about these enigmatic stones – Owain Glyndwr’s ‘Covenant Stones’ – for a while now and was in fact on my way to visit them during September 2010... until a spur-of-the-moment diversion up Pen Pumlumon-Arwystli. Yeah, don’t ever accuse me of being organised. Anyway, if at first you don’t succeed.... wait two years and have another go. As previously, the primary intention this time around was to ascend Banc Llechwedd-mawr to take a look at its pair of cairns, an audience with the Cerrig Cyfamod Glyndwr the proverbial ‘cherry on the top’. Or rather bottom. Assuming I could find them, of course. But how difficult can it be to locate two glistening white quartzite blocks upon a dark hillside, brooding beneath a malevolent sky promising rain? A glance at the map suggests a relatively easy day, two rights of way crossing the Afon Hyddgen either side of the confluence with the Afon Hengwm, the latter draining surely one of the wildest cwms in all Wales? Pumlumon doesn’t do ‘easy’, however, the landscape – in places a soggy morass – would suggest Glyndwr knew exactly what he was doing back in 1401. No problem if saddled upon one of the tough little local ponies. Otherwise......

Leaving the A44 at Ponterwyd, take the minor road signposted ‘Nant y Moch’, the Dinas hillfort rising upon your left across the Rheidol, the Hirnant and Lle’r neuaddau cairn circles just two of the excellent sites which might well throw your itinery to the not inconsiderable Pumlumon winds en route. Assuming you get thus far, take the right hand fork just prior to the dam, this a ‘dead end’ which penetrates the very heart of Pumlumon. Parking is available a little before the Maes Nant activity centre, although I have to confess I’ve never actually seen any ‘activity’ there. The route, now a stony bridleway, continues above the buildings, the cascading Maesnant stream betraying the existance of Llyn Llygad-rheidol – the hidden source of the Afon Rheidol – high above to the right. Follow the bridleway until, nearing a prominent copse of trees, it is necessary to trend right to cross the Afon Hengwm, via a footbridge, the river barring further progress. Needless to say I attempted to ford the Afon Hyddgen by veering left before crossing the bridge... but found this option to be completely impractical, dangerous even. Stupid is as stupid does, Forrest. So use the bridge and continue along the bridleway before attempting to negotiate the Hyddgen. Where you make your play is a matter of personal choice, I’m afraid. I followed the bank for what seemed like, oh... ages.... looking for a dryshod way across. But to no avail. Losing patience I am forced to remove boots and wade the freezing water. Still, the feet needed a wash, I guess. This being Pumlumon, of course, there follows immediate, comical irony. Yeah, boots replaced nice n’ dry, I step into an unseen, boggy pool up to my knees. Doh!

Once across, the stones are indeed easy to locate. Two (relatively) large blocks of vivid quartzite lie – they do not appear in anyway to be ‘standing’ – separated by a small, rocky outcrop. I make the alignment roughly North-South (Coflein reckons NNE-SSW, so I’d recommend you go with that, bearing in mind my limited prowess with the compass). Such are the deteriorating weather conditions that I do not note the ‘alignment’ with the skyline stone to the south. But there you are, such things happen where legends are born. Minds can get overloaded, overwhelmed by the enormity of it all, you know? The setting, particularly in these adverse conditions, is brutal in the extreme, the stones clinging to the eastern flank of Banc Llechwedd-mawr above the river, the complementary flanks of Carn Hyddgen rising across the bwlch, both peaks surmounted by the obligatory Pumlumon cairns. Surely there can be no doubt these shining beacons (I can confirm they can indeed be seem from the summit ridge of Pen Pumlumon-fawr rearing above to the approx south-east) were placed here by human agency? Err.... to be honest I was more or less convinced until, upon descending Banc Llechwedd-mawr later in the day in a direct line toward Carn Hyddgen, I came across another quartzite block (see image no.3). Coflein’s R.P. Sambrook suggests that the stones ‘....may be erratic boulders’. Sadly I reckon the existance of the third block raises the possibility, for me, that he could be right. But then again the third block might simply be an additional monument, bearing in mind there are two additional stone settings a little to the approx south-west of the Cerrig Cyfamod Glyndwr. Just what was going on here back then?

My gut feeling is these wondrous stones are indeed naturally occuring erratics, the additional nearby monuments suggesting they were perhaps ‘adopted’ by the ancients as part of their ritual landscape.... not to mention the medieval locals. What could be more special than finding such unusual, magical white stones ‘already there’, in situ, seemingly ‘placed’ by the very gods themselves? Needless to say I would love to be proved wrong, for the tell tale signs of human agency to be discovered and subsequently highlighted by others. But perhaps this is to miss the point... merely splitting hairs, for this is an inspiring place to be. A good place to be.

As mentioned there are other stones to the south, apparently displaying much more certain prehistoric ancestry. However Banc Llechwedd-mawr calls the louder from on high and a true Citizen Cairn’d must respond. There is no choice, no option. The afternoon then proceeds to burst into life in a dazzling display of highlight and shade, a veritable kaleidoscope of vibrant colour set free by sunlight penetrating the cloudbase... or something like that? So Carn Hyddgen must follow in linear progression, the other stones must wait for another day. Yeah, like I said. Nothing is straight forward upon Pumlumon.

Suposedly the remains of a stone circle .
Mmmm .
canmore.rcahms.gov.uk/en/site/4300/details/lewis+laxdale+priest+s+glen/

Very Accessible from the nearby road .
Stone setting seems more appropriate than stone circle .

tp://canmore.rcahms.gov.uk/en/site/4303/details/lewis+benside+newmarket/

In theory there should be 360 different routes up this or any hill, but in reality there is but two and they converge half way up. These paths can be accessed via Nab Lane off Shrigley lane (between Bollington and Pott Shrigley)and Nab Heady leading to Cocksheadhey Road, the two paths are at the east end of this smirk inducing road.

On the way up the hill Arthur and I took the low path which was both lucky and unlucky because there was an attractive woman and her Labrador taking the high path, my marriage may be failing but I’m still fairly sure meeting nice ladies in the hills is a no no, or is it, hence the lucky/unlucky.
After much huffing and puffing we got to the top, Arthur was by now too knackered to be pulling at the lead, and there it is, Nabs head barrow.
Near the barrow are a few cobbled together bricks of indeterminate usage, sitting upon them, and then standing on them in order to photograph the barrow, I found at least two uses. In between the bricks and the barrow is a small sign instructing us to go back the way we came for the path ends here. I have little choice for my car is back that way, or else I would willfully ignore it and find an alternative route.

The barrow is still quite good despite its proximity to town and village, excepting the how rude trig point plonked on its summit, and excepting the big excavation hole right next to it. Ok, so its not that good, but, it is, quite good despite these detractors, oh and there’s a slight scoop on its top where the trig point is. So..... even though all these things it is still a good barrow worth the walk up here and the views are very good, on a clear day I could see my house. Well nearly.

Good barrow.

It’s unlikely – in the extreme – that anyone would happen to simply ‘chance’ upon this diminutive stone circle, set just beyond the north-eastern tip of Llyn Cwmffynnon, an upland mountain lake acting as temporary repository for the (substantial) run-off of the towering 3,000ft plus crags of Glyder Fach and Fawr. To my knowledge not even Burl, the man himself, has highlighted this stone circle, so kudos must go to the wondrous people at Coflein.... and to TSC for passing the info on. Although the site is not as obscure as a glance at the 1:25k OS map of the area might suggest – this is, after all, at the heart of central Snowdonia’s prime walking country – the same map depicts a tiny lake more or less where the monument sits, a satellite frozen in orbit around the impossibly evocative source of the Nant Gwryd. To be honest this is a bit of an exaggeration.... but not significantly so since the landscape is very wet indeed. Suffice to say, then, that only someone seeking the vibe, that ‘essence’ of the hills which a man with my command of the English language will never be able to adequately define, should make a pilgrimage here. Pilgrimage? The word invokes images of religious devotion, blind faith. Leaving one’s brain at the counter. Hell no. Guess I should clarify I feel no ‘supernatural’ presence at these sites. Just overwhelming wonder at the Super Natural world. Yeah, the whole is most definitely greater than the sum of its cold, soggy, misty parts. However you most certainly need your brain to fit the bits together.

My visit today was prompted by the all too recurrent curse of every visitor to the UK uplands... a low cloud base. But there you are. Where would we be without ethereal vapours to obscure the stage of the age of legend, to act upon the primeval instincts embedded deep within the human mind... yeah, the very mists of time itself? The approach to the ‘circle is suitably dramatic, ascending the right hand bank of the thundering outflow of Llyn Cwmffynnon back to its source, fleeting glimpses of grey – nay, black – crags materialising above only adding to the sense of drama. Eventually the lake shore comes into view.... at a prominent stile look for a distant rock colonised by the only tree within the cwm.... the circle is located a little to the left of this line of sight, set before a craggy section of the lake’s shore within DEEP marsh. Needless to say I walk on by, oblivious, drawn to the clear water’s edge... before finally placing myself within the landscape. But then I would suggest a circuit of this wondrous mountain tarn is a given. It would be rude not to.

None of the orthostats of the stone circle are large. But then what’s new in Wales? The encircling crags, their height if anything emphasised by the obscuring mist, so completely dominate the site as to engender a feeling of mild claustrophobia. Yeah, there can be no pretension here. I count five stones still a’standing, albeit within their own personal pools, three more fallen (at least)... plus two (?) lying within. Not so sure about the latter, since the surrounding landscape is liberally ‘sprinkled’ with rock and one may be naturally ‘placed’, so to speak. As you would expect beneath Wales’ rockiest mountains. Hanging out here is not easy – for obvious reasons – but I have no choice. The thought suddenly arises.... I’ve walked in North Wales for over 20 years. Thought I knew it like the back of my hand. How wrong can you be?

So why here? Why erect your ‘circle in a spot that must (surely?) have always been subject to the most extreme vagaries of the climate in these parts? One answer may be not that obvious today... that of the elegant, sculptured summit of Crib Goch which would dominate the skyline to the approx west if not for the low cloud. Another could be the positionning near a river source, the very definition of life on this planet? To be fair the latter seems to be a recurring theme encountered during my upland wanderings in Wales.

P.S. – Central Snowdonia has adopted a policy of very much biting the hand that feeds in recent years... to my understanding much against the wishes of locals ... by imposing excessive parking charges in some areas. The laybys near Pen-y-Gwryd are covered by these draconian measures, so I would recommend parking a little further down the road toward Capel Curig.

Sat at the eastern end of Glen Banchor, one of my favourite places on earth, is the delightfully named Sidhean Mor Dail A’ Chaorainn (The fairy knoll of the glen of the Rowan trees). How could you resist that?

Marked on the OS map as a fort, Canmore has it as a “Palisaded Enclosure”.
The remains of the palisade trenches are faint but visible as lumps ‘n bumps in the heather. The tennis court sized level top is featureless apart from a circular turf enclosure that Canmore ascribes no great age.

The best reason to visit this site is of course the views, which are spectacular in all directions. It’s also relatively easily to reach, just take the Glen road out of Newtonmore, there are a couple of car parks at the top of the glen. Leaving the car park continue along the road till you cross the bridge over the Allt a’ Chaorainn then turn right and follow the burn up to the site visible in front of you.

What does a skint Tma’er want most for his birthday ? Yep ! A full tank of petrol, nice one dad.
In between school runs I decide to take myself over to the Maiden castle of the north, the second most impressive hill fort i’ve ever seen. Sadly it rained all the way here, but, no matter, I have waterproofing, funny though, it stopped raining as I got them on, it does that quite often. Dressed as an orange fluorescent Jedi Knight I enter the fort by it’s main western entrance and make my way via a myriad of paths to the modern stairway at it’s north western corner, we had a picnic here one summer many years ago, Eric was still in nappies, I always meant to come back but it’s taken almost ten years, bad postie.

Incorrectly I start a circuit of the fort in an anticlockwise manner, mostly because I intend to get up Llwyn Coppice, the hill next door, to get a different view of the fort and I need to see what access is like.
Passing the entrance, New Oswestry stands not far away, compared to the fort it is a sprawling metropolis. Low mist clings to even the lowest hills and I cant make out any distant features at all. Half way round I come to a herd of sheep, one in particular keeps eyeballing me, it is the last to turn tail and scarper further up the ditch, but they don’t go far and I’m chasing them all the way round from the lesser eastern entrance and all the way back to the stairs, which they use with ease, Oi they’re people stairs, I use a Jedi mind trick that only works on the feeble minded and they stick to the bottom of the ditch. After an inspection of the mystery ditches I conclude they must be frog farms and leave the fort walls.

Time for a climb of the nearest and closest hills, to the north is a 151 meter high hill that looks a good vantage point to eye up the western fortifications. It is. An harangued Buzzard flew past being mobbed by Crows, poor thing. Next after a walk down the road containing a waving good morning from a fat fellow with two Labradors. Soon I’m up to the top of llwyn coppice hill, a good lookout point if you can get a view through the trees. And a nice place in itself, autumnal colours abound, and birds streak by, but, the local youth have been here and even the trees have been Graffitied and one poor tree has had a dozen long nails hammered in to a six inch space. God damn no brains, they should all just drop down dead.
Time to go see some stones.

Its time for another visit, this time without snow and Ice, I was able to get much closer with the car this time. In fact so close, that when I parked in front of the gate that gives access to the stones field that I saw a map by the gate and instructions detailing that there is a permissive footpath to the stone. No trespassing needed today or ever again. Good stuff.
Small sheep take no chances with me and run off to the other side of the field, no brave one, no staring, no Baaing, good sheep. The stone is still seven foot tall and still leaning, more or less in the direction of a spring and waterfall to the north west. It is a big hefty chunk of stone similar in appearance, from some angles to Carreg y Big a mile and a half north. Thin wisps of mists can be seen against the dark green of the nearby conifer plantation, but the sun stubbornly stays behind the thick clouds.
A good stone well worth the trouble of navigating the small roads, snow or not on foot or by car, if you’ve just been to the fort at Oswestry there really is little excuse not to come see these two big stones.

My last trip here was in foot deep snow and thick fog, this time it was easy going, the trees were in their last gasp of colour before it’s all over for another year, the fog was still in attendance though. Not too thick mind, the sun tried to shine through it, leaving me, the trees, the stone and the staring sheep in that beautiful natural filtered light, not the light at the end of the tunnel, or the light that brightens the darkest place, just the light that reminds one why its good to be alive.

Without the treacherous icy roads I could get a lot nearer with the car, a five minute road walk and over the same gate as before, up the field and over the rambler improved stile, the stone is fifty yards further up hill, off the path but not out of reach.
Going on for seven feet tall, this is a big thick stone, one that changes shape as you move round it, which isn’t easy as its very close to the fence. In fact its at the junction of three tree lined field fences. Without its covering of snow and ice I could clearly see the quartz veins running through it as reported by Thesweetcheat on his epic retreading of the Offas dyke path (hats off mate). As I sat with my back to the fence, the stone a few yards away, a Post van went up the lane and stopped at the house on the road, I often see these red vans when stone hunting and a wry smile passes by, how I wish I could deliver around here or some other such megalith rich place, I wonder if these other posties realise how much more luckier than I they are.... Probably not.

Grey Weather at Calla

This site has long intrigued me. A broch... here in the dark badlands of South Lanarkshire? Well... why not? After all... on my short twenty minute journey to the site of Calla Broch I drove past a henge, a Norman Motte, the oldest roofed building in Scotland, the late Upper Paleolithic site at Howburn, an important roman crossroads, a roman fortlet and a field with two emus in it.

The broch site is just that... just a site, A stump.. but it is a beautifully elevated platform with stunning views to Tinto, Quothquan Law and within sight of the massive roman complex at Castledykes by Ravenstruther. It is thought that the legions had a hand in bringing this mighty structure crashing down at the end of the first century.

The broch was known locally as “the quarry” for centuries and has provided the drystane dykes for many of the fields here. The site itself has intact walling most of the way round, but it is just well concealed under turf, deep undergrowth and fallen trees.

A quiet site with little to catch your eye. There are some large blocks of worked and hewn masonry scattered at the edge of the platform and here and there where you can find the curtain wall’s edge, it is robust and stands quite a few courses in height.

The site has never really been excavated. Chatting with a local archaeologist about it a few years back, he described the broch as having been toppled into itself. The resultant heap was then quarried over centuries and then the area around the broch heap was planted with conifers and Beech. Many of these old trees have blown down around the edges of the broch platform and remain uncleared. It would take an army to clear this place in order to let any excavation take place. A very limited dig some years ago uncovered a couple of pieces of cannel coal.

11/11/2012 – After a visit to Jock’s Cairn on the west side of Sma’ Glen in the morning we headed up Dun Mor from Newton Bridge to have a look at this hillfort on the east side of the glen. Straight forward walk over shortish heather. The fort is fantastic. Double walls, best seen on the south side. Great location. Well worth a visit.

11/11/2012 – I was on the hill north of Jock’s Cairn earlier in the year and had made my mind up to visit this one when I next got the chance. Weather was pretty good on Sunday so we headed to Sma’ Glen. Parked at Newton Bridge and climbed the steep north side of the hill to the cairn. The cairn has a pretty big footprint but is topped by a 2 metre modern cairn. The location of this one is superb. Sma’ Glen is a favorite place.

This marked rock was originally discovered in March but the light was poor and the pics had little detail . A clear cold day with low sun yesterday provided better conditions for pics .

Crowpound.
Visit Date: 9th November 2012

It was only recently that I got to hear of Crowpound after it was suggested that it was rather like King Arthur’s Hall on King Arthur’s Down to the north-west of Bodmin Moor. As KAH is a particular favourite of mine a visit was top of my list.

I have to say that on first appearance it disappointed me as other than a rectangular banked earthwork enclosure it bears little other resemblance to it. There is no grandeur to it and no ambiance as there is at KAH and certainly no granite standing stones lining the inner side of the bank.
I approached the site after leaving the A30 taking the St Neot turn-of and passing Colliford Lake on the LHS. At Fair View/Williams Cottage at a four junctioned xroad you continue south for about another ¾ mile sign posted Mount/Ley before reaching a further xroad. To the left takes you to St Neot and the right to Mount. Go straight over and Crowpound is immediately on your right and makes up the south-east corner junction of the xroad.
Basically it is a rectangular banked earthwork of uncertain age and usage, the middle of the site having been extensively mined and left in an appalling state as far as I am concerned. Why disturbed land was never reinstated by the mining companies is beyond me as it remains such a mess. Holes all over the place with the removed earth banked up alongside. To the middle central area of the enclosure is a somewhat crude interrupted circular banked area which is somewhat of a puzzle, but in amongst all the mining holes and earth deposits its identity simply isn’t clear cut although my first thought I have to say was that it could be an open earthen ringed cairn and the real jewel in the crown of this site. The northern end of the central inner area is quite flat and untouched by mine works so my thoughts are that on first build the whole inner area was a flat surface with the possible exception of this central circular earthwork/ringed cairn with the banked enclosure coming later. Only excavation will resolve that possibility however.
Where it mainly differs, other than having no standing stones to the inner sides of the banks like at KAH, is the consistency and height of the banking. Very neat and tidy with perfectly level tops about 4ft high, whereas the banks at KAH are a bit up and down and somewhat irregular in places and much higher and bulkier. My first thoughts again on seeing this (and now wearing my builders hat) was that they were built level to then take a possible fence to form a perfect stockade to keep animals in. The banks themselves ‘seem’ to have been formed by removing earth from the inner surface but could equally have been brought in from elsewhere and deposited there. As the photos will show there is water lying against the inner base of some of the banking suggesting it was from a shallow ditch left behind after the earth was taken to form the banking, but this is a little sketchy to say the least.
What troubled me the most was that the site had no ‘feeling’ to it and left me cold. It was plain, simple, every-dayish if you like with no heart. It simply did nothing for me and it certainly didn’t feel ‘old’. Inside of me I didn’t want it to be like KAH as that is a special place and in that respect it didn’t let me down!
Now, interestingly, about a quarter of a mile away to the south-east on Goonzion Downs, is a tumulus and lo and behold it is held within another enclosure made up of the same type of banking as more photos will show. A very large enclosure this time with the tumulus set almost into its south-east corner. What’s all that about you have to ask? The tumulus itself has been dug into with the centre torn apart and another example no doubt of treasure seeking morons with no respect for our heritage and/or our great ancestors last resting place! Overall though this entire area has been destroyed by mining works and it does make you wonder if in days gone by anyone really cared a stuff for our past or even once considered re-instating the land back to its former beauty.
picasaweb.google.com/100525707086862773355/Crowpound?authkey=Gv1sRgCNKN6Y_isObUOQ#