Latest Fieldnotes

21/01/2012 revisited 07/04/2012 – Parked car at NO 69929164 and headed south on the old drove road the Stock Mounth. We set out to look for a possible ring cairn on top of Blarourie Hill (no luck) and hut circles (found but not very exciting). On the way up Blarourie Hill we came across this circular enclosure (centered on NO 70255 90252). The enclosure wall is made of stones with a small trench on the inside. It is about 50m in diameter with a small cairn right in the middle. There are at least another 3 enclosures nearby, one of which also has a cairn in the middle. They are hard to make out on photos but can be seen quite well on aerial photos on Google.

Link to aerial photo

I can’t believe I didn’t add any field notes from my last visit six years ago, even though that was more than half a lifetime ago for Eric he still said “oh I remember this one” and that was before we even got to it.

Heading south out of Llanglydwen, take your first right turn, then turn right into the track that leads to Penbontbren cottage, they let me park there last time but this time I leave it further up the track in the corner to one side, then walk down to the house and pass it by on it’s right hand side, through a red gate. Then take your left hand fork passing a standing stone/old gate post and in one minute the most beautiful of Preseli’s chromlechs is revealed.
Looking down over the river but not in site of it, is the greyhounds lair, what is it with greyhounds lairs in Wales? there is at least three that i’ve been to, is it the ancient name for it or a modern thing?
I walk around and around it, taking pictures from strange angles that I didn’t explore last time, but last time the whole family and the dog were here, this time it’s just Eric and me, and he’s got a new football, so i’m free to go this way and that. Some chalked/burnt stick graffiti is on the inside, including a spiral in black, it’s all old stuff that’s wearing away, it’ll be gone by autumn.

On the edge of the Preseli mountains but not in site of it, this is a must see dolmen, so many pictures of Coaten Arthur and Carreg Samson, this place is well under used, and little visited. A secret little gem, if i’d come a few weeks later there would have been bluebells too, so much beauty and wonder in one place would have made me quiver. Then again at work a bonus is coming my way soon, so I may come back in a few weeks, and I will be a lucky boy.

Ps.... the walk back was timed to more or less fifteen minutes, so there’s no excuses for not coming.

Beware ! I will be talking enthusiastically about this place, what we are sometimes privy to is more than just a visit to some stones by someone, sometimes it’s a window onto a love affair, for it sometimes feels more like i’m documenting a love story between myself and these ancient wild high places, if I sometimes sound like a giddy child it’s because I feel like one, it’s just the best feeling in the world.

We parked in the obvious place south east of the small mountain, and rediculously I let Eric talk me into taking the bikes up with us, it wasn’t that hard going, it’s not too steep. On the way up he would look back down the path and tell me how cool it will be to ride back down, pointing out dips and jumps he would go over, we’re not mad, we had no intention to ride down from the top that would be suicide, however his second mountain lesson would be coming soon.
As we neared the top I could see what looked to be the first line of defences for the hill fort, crawling north around the side of the hill and curling west to keep those pesky invaders out.
We pass it by and reach the level ground at the top, lean our bikes against the rocks at the south east, and turn to look at the three ginormous cairns, if a mountain is lucky, no if i’m lucky a mountain will have a cairn on it, if i’m verrry verrry lucky it will have two decent cairns on it, but to get three cairns of such distinction you have to come to the magical playground of the stonehenge builders, the Preseli mountains.

I read with disappointment that Carl wasn’t impressed with the hill fort, saying little to be seen, ?? the defences can be followed all around the north of the hill and even the entrance is deep and obvious on the south side where there are no defences because of the precipitous rocks , Iv’e seen worse, much worse and whats worse is iv’e driven miles to see them, here though it is an absolute delight, a cherry on the top, for the main gatteau is the three huge cairns perched on top, keeping watch over the whole of the eastern mountain range.
The cairns have been recently restored by army preparation students, whoever they are? but they have done a grand job. We could tell by the colouration of the stones where had been restored. But they either left a bit out or someones been at it already as there is a a small scoop in the western end of the western cairn, it’s a comfy place to sit out of the wind and watch the clouds scudding over distant Carnmenyn. Carnmenyn, from here it hides from view the Carnmenyn burial chamber and the stone river, had I been alone I would go over there and introduce myself to the genius loci there. But not this time, they will have to wait till our next rendezvous. From up on top, on top of the trig point, we can see it all , west past Carnmenyn to Foal Feddau and Craig y cwm, Preseli’s highest point. North is the coast, I can see Dinas head, and closer to somewhere before me is Beddyraffanc, east is Frenni Fawr and cairns and south is Carn Ferched and further off is the megalithic complex at Glandy cross.

But the best thing is just sitting up on the central cairn watching the clouds shadows moving across the ground below, the occupants of these cairns must have been important indeed.
But the worse thing is on our way back down, on the bikes, Eric went from lower than me, but no sooner had we got fifty yards he went tumbling head first over the handle bars, and I was unable to do a thing but watch it all happen, thankfully he wasn’t hurt too much, mostly his pride, and with it comes a valueable mountain lesson, even if your thinking I can do that, it always pays to be conservative, no not them...ptui.

Access: Good – very short walk on grass, only yards from a parking space.

Visited Thursday 12 April 2012
Even more wonderful on a sunny day than when it’s peeing down!!!

Just to clarify, this is on the west of the road coming from the mainland, just before you approach the causeway/bridge to Ile Grande. There is a small lay-by/parking space south of it.

It’s probably easier to spot on the way back if you go across to see Ile Grande allée couverte, which is why Jane described it the way she did.

Either way, keep your eye open on the west side of the road for a gap in field edge less than 100m on the mainland side of the causeway/bridge. When we were there last week, there was a little sign in the entrance to the field.

In line with the allée couverte & right next to it, there’s also a curious long mound that makes you think it’s a still couverte allée.... It even has a standing stone sticking out, but I haven’t (yet) seen it referred to in any books etc.

The perimeter of Oldbury hillfort is so substantial... of such extreme length.... a ‘hill city’, in fact... that my only previous visit here, in 2008, merely focussed upon the well defined defences to the south. But, credit where due, a few years on I realise my mistake and reckon... at the very least... the bluebells might have made an appearance upon the ancient ramparts once again, earthworks which I understand could possibly – nay, probably – have succumbed to an assault by Caesar and his barbarian boneheads during the course of his self-aggrandizing trip across the water from Gaul. Why not try the whole two and a half-odd miles. Angry farmers permitting? Yeah, why not?

The enormous Iron Age fortress of Oldbury rises above the Kentish village of Ightham, famed – and rightly so – for its exquiste, moated Medieval manor house. Not that the informed passer by would know the former existed at all, if not for the name. Oldbury... hmm. So where’s the ‘fort, then? A dense encircling canopy of trees is the culpruit here, predominately oak, or so I understand.

Well, to cut a long story short – even with map and compass – I soon lose any sense of positionning upon this tremendous fortification. Yeah, I’m soon bewitched by the ancient forest, so I am. The defences are pretty upstanding for the most – as mentioned, very much so to the south – but have the tendency to go walkabout in places (or so it seems). Some may find woodland claustrophobic, but not I. Love it, the roots of trees clinging to rampart sheltering the aforementioned first bluebells of Spring, the wooden tentacles themselves the very epitome of Nature. I blunder into an orchard and notice the path continues, a couple nonchalantly walking a dog.... beyond, the tree line is bordered by a mass of farm implements... not to mention council road signs. Hey, use an ancient hillfort as a storage depot, why don’t you? Guess this must be the ‘private’ part, then? Carrying on along the edge of the hillside I encounter some rocky outcrops...... no, couldn’t be? Aren’t there supposed to be some cave dwellings here?

There are. And for a reason I can’t really explain the experience completely blows me away. Overlooking a steep drop and accompanied by another fine tree with copious roots, I gaze into the black void and know I must brave the arachnids and venture inside. There is no choice. I must.... and, although well versed in crawling down the claustrophobic passages of Orcadian tombs, I begin to freak out within. What appear – at least to me – ‘artificial’ markings upon the left hand cave wall heighten the vibe, the darkness beyond showing the literal ‘light at the end of the tunnel’. To my surprise – aren’t caves damp and uncomfortable? – the ground is absolutely bone dry, powder dust, but the roof is perhaps just three foot high. Good for sleeping, then. Hey, much like my one man tent? These Neanderthal fellas (and lasses) had their world sussed, methinks. Although light beckons, the roof begins to contract to a point where I can’t go on. No, really. Approx half way, I guess. Retreating towards the entrance I gaze out and am suddenly overwhelmed by a connection to what went before. Hey, the finds prove it. People sat here at a time beyond my comprehension... people of a different species, goddammit!.... and no doubt thought ‘look at that bloody rain... and she’s gonna kill me if I don’t return from the hunt with something better than that bloody squirrel yesterday.... Mighty hunter... me. Ha!‘

I sit at the entrance, beneath the overhanging rock protecting the fire... if there was one... eating my pre-packaged lunch... and wonder how I’d cope if I actually had to catch my own lunch. Yeah, I’m sure I could do it. Do or die. But how dare we be-little the people who’ve gone before. How dare we!! How dare we, indeed..... I sit here in awe, I really do. The birds sing, and perhaps only the distant road noise reminds the traveller this is actually the 21st century.... how can one experience such emotions in quaint modern day Kent, American tourists swarming below? I feel red raw with emotion. And mighty better for it, I can tell you.

I e-mailed the new occupants living in the nearby house asking if my son and I could come and have a look at the stones but received no reply, so we went any way. It took two tries to get the right driveway down to the house (blurred house name on streetview says lots) but we got there eventually. I parked in the farm yard and knocked on the door, farmers wife came to the door so I asked if my son and I could have a look at the stones, using the exact words used in my e-mail, but it didn’t seem to register, no matter, she didn’t have a problem gave me some directions to the stones and off we went, would have been nice for the asked for e-mail to have made an impact though.

The stones are first seen over the wall, oooh said I they’re big ones, then we get to the gate and enter the stones field. Immediately you can see that some work is being carried out here, new fence posts and new barbed wire, not into that, not at all. But also some gorse has been removed and piled up, I am into that though, but not too much mind.
These are a fine pair of stones, the smaller western stone is more rounded and blunter, female ? and the eastern stone is taller, sharp edged and pointy, male ? whether it is a gender issue that determines the stones shape I’m not overly convinced but there is a meaning to it i’m sure.
Standing south of the stones, they frame Carn Meini, 365 meters of up thrusting weather beaten rock, and next to it the Carn Menyn chambered tomb and coming from that the stone river a most singular natural feature. There’s really a lot going on around here, I so wish it was the same in my almost local Snowdonia.
I’ll have to put in for a transfer down here.

Visited 5th May 2011

It’s a misty morning, the fog clinging to the trees and muffling the sounds of the forest around us as we sit at ‘The Wolves Lair’, a unique combination of table dolmen and allee couverte, dating from around 2,500BCE.

The small dolmen was once said to house wolves, hence the name, now it is moss covered, seemingly becoming part of the forest, but this morning it feels like a place out of time, and I almost expect to see huge lupine shapes slinking between the trees around us.

Two lines of stone, now jumbled, extend out from the dolmen, and there is still evidence of a vague raised mound on which the monument stood.

We only found out about this place quite late into our weeks holiday, by spotting it in a book on Brittany megaliths we picked up from the museum at Carnac. It is nice and easy to find, just south of the town of Tredion on the D1 a small signposted parking spot points the way to a path through the woodland to the dolmen.

On the walk through the forest several large fallen stones were visible, and it was difficult to tell whether they were once fallen menhirs, as they seemed too worked in shape to be just natural stones.

There is something about this place which draws me to it, whether it is the particular atmosphere of the setting on this misty morning enhancing the place, or some innate magic of the site I don’t know, but the whole place is so evocative it makes it hard to leave. This is a true forest temple, a place of myth and the archetypal ancient ruin in a forest. I really liked it here.

I just love the way the forest seems to embrace the monument, moss shrouds the stones and oaks protectivly encircle it, whilst a smally holly tree grows from the back of the dolmen, how much more Druidic can you get!

This is one of the best dolmens I’ve ever visited, and coupled with the ease of access, but remote feel there is no excuse not to come back!

I was looking for a way to get to the Yr Allor stones when I came across this site, I parked up outside it’s field and inspected the map. Hmmm there are so many stones around here that your just falling over them, I get out and walk over, look at the information board and ohhhh it’s Meini Gwyr, it wasn’t high on the list due to it’s ruination but it was there nonetheless .

There is still a slight circular bump to be seen, just, and the stones are still quite big, well one of them is, and they still have that inward lean that Merrick mentions in his notes. I can’t quite make out Yr Allor from here, and that is where the attraction to the place comes in, not not making things out, but, in it’s heyday this would have been a phenomenal place, so many closely fitting sites all seemingly linked together, like a mini Carnac, but it’s all over now the crowd are on the pitch it is well and truly over.

As we were passing from one place high on my list to another, we just had to stop and say a quick hi to this tall yet squat pointy standing stone. Passing east out of Maenclochog which i’m probably erroneously guessing means loads of stones, as you cant leave the village without passing one, we passed this one. It was a good one, next to wooded streams and small waterfalls, god I wish I didn’t live where I do.

Seeing as it was so close to the Dyffryn stone circle ( I refuse to call it a cairn) we rode our bikes down the road, turning left immediately after going over the bridge over happy waters. Open and close gate, ride down track and umph, a farm, hmmm what to do, worse still the farm yard was full of sheep and lambs with the farmer and his wife. i didn’t hold out much hope, the farmers wife saw us but didn’t seem to mind. We opened and closed the next gate and we were in the farm yard, I went over to the farming couple and asked if it was okay if we went over to their stone, (they like that) she said it was alright as long as we left our bikes there. Okely Dokely said I and off down the track we went, passing some ruined Reliant Robins and an old boat, which is right next to the gate that leads into the stones field.

We entered the field, scaring off two geese and walked over to the well proportioned stone. Tall and pointy it be, if i had a standing stone it would be just like this one. If you know where to look you can just make out the Dyffryn stones. To the immediate north of the menhir is Budloy mountain but at only 287 meters it’s hardly a tiring climb. En route back to the bikes which had moved when we got back, we noticed what an idyllic farm scene this was the sheep had gone but ducks were now quacking about the many streams that pass through there yard. If I had a farm I’d like it be this one.

This one had been bumping around the top of my list for ages, years, but seeing as it’s so far away, at least a three to four hour drive and North Wales is so much closer, but i’m here now and i’m not going to waste the opportunity. I parked in the entrance to the Electricity sub station just to the west of the circle, reckoning that no-one would be coming this early in the morning, and they didn’t. Then we rode the bikes down to the left hand gate , Eric’s went under the gate mine over it then a one minute ride up to the medley of animal pens, curious young cows ran alongside the fence, Eric was more interested in them than the stones so I was able to have a quiet moment or ten with the stone circle.

For it must be a stone circle, the map says only cairn but what do maps know, bah, who makes cairns with stones this big. Each stone is of a singular shape meticulously chosen for it’s odd shape, the corrugated stones are particularly interesting. One of the two tallest stones seems to have been cut in two the line of the cut so perfect it must have been a Sith lord up to mischief with his light saber. If a stone circle it be then it would have been the best stone circle in the whole of the Preselis, Gors Fawr could be walked through without noticing it by someone unused to such things, and Bedd Arthur isn’t even a circle. If you know where to look Budloy standing stone can just be seen across the slight valley.

I really liked this place, it didn’t disappoint at all, even the cows or the farming utensils did nothing to blunt my experience here, just imagine what it would be like if it was in pristine condition, mind blowing.

These site is a must, if you’re in the area. It consists of three wedge tombs surrounded by kerb stones. Some of the kerb stones are erected, others are lying down. If’ve never seen a comparable site before.

As the site is part of a ‘Heritage Trail’, there is a parking area from where a path leads to the site. It was a bit boogy, but I guess it could be very muddy after longer periods of rain.

Apart from that, this is really a great site to visit!

Visited April 2012

The path from Garn gifach burial chamber starts off easy to follow but when it crosses over a low old wall the gorse rather chokes the path impeding progress and the brambles arch over trying it’s hardest to trip over the unwary walker, I got this far before, but turned back when the path just stops at a large boulder with fencing running off in two diections, knowing all this we stride forward using brute strength, what little I have, and steely determination which I have by the bucket load, Eric found it hard going so he sat on the big boulder and watched me descend onto the gorse ridden plateau, from the big boulder only one stone can be seen in more or less the right place, not knowing whether or not this was it I just gave it a go, and hey presto Lady gate standing stone revealed her self to me.

Though standing stone is a real misnomer, it’s not totally prostrate, it still clings on to verticallity by it’s finger tips. This almost fallen menhir gave me great joy, the usual triumphant sound was absent, just a quiet immense feeling of satisfaction, accompanied by goose bumps, I’d had the words Lady gate floating around my mind for ages, we would be together one day I knew for certain, very strange I know but this was one stone that would not escape my attentions.
I waited patiently for the other-wordly lady to make an appearance, but to no avail, I even poked around under the stone, in imitation of treasure seeking, but she must of known that her riches were not in peril from me, probably too much information but I could really do with an other-wordly lady right about now.
Eric reminds me of my other respsonsabilities with a shout, I wonder if that was his first call out to me, I bid her a fond farewell and take my leave.

My first visit was hampered by deep impenetrable fog, thankfully I’d left Garnwnda and the Lady gate stone out so this was the return visit eighteen months in the making.
I parked in the same place as before, and walked through the same farm , barked at by the same dogs probably and walked up the same path, the sign pointing out the cromlech is still there but the abundant plant growth and slugs were absent, glee !

The giant capstone was easier to define from the ground without the high grasses, and the strange triangles on the upper surface of the capstone still look freaky, are they man made or natural, I don’t know but they are stained reddish as though from iron or something. Once more I climb the rocks just a few feet from the chamber and look down upon the mighty stone, held only just aloft by its small orthostats. Then I let my gaze wander around, I can’t see the Lady gate standing stone from here the crest of the hill hides it from view, just like Garnwnda does with Parc Hen standing stone, the rocks of Garn Folch hides Garnwnda and it’s chamber from me too, a complicated game of hide and seek are afoot, but i’m not sure of it’s rules or it’s meaning, if there is one. But the forts around and on Garn Fawr are highly visible, but they’re not playing the same game.
I bid the chamber adieu and set off for the elusive Lady stone, but i’ll be back soon enough.

Visited 31st December 2011

A henge before breakfast! Just across the field from the Bryn Gwyn stones, the cold light of a December dawn illuminates the horizon as I sit on the embankment to write my fieldnotes. The bank remains satisfyingly large, with a clearly visible entranceway. Castell Bryn-Gwyn has been cut in half though and a small farmhouse hunkers within its precincts, which make you feel a bit like an intruder, as if you are sat in someones garden!

I wonder about the links between the nearby Bryn Gwyn Tre’r Drwy stones, and whether the whole area was part of a larger ritual complex, certainly standing on the bank the stones are visible to the south-west. It’s peaceful here, magical in the early morning light.

Bryn Gwyn means ‘Gwyn’s Hill’ (or possibly it could be ‘Blessed’ hill, since the name Gywn means blessed) and I wonder if there are any folkloric associations with Gwyn ap Nudd here? I’ve not come across any, but it’s something I’ll look into. I certainly seem to have lost time whilst sitting in the henge, as if the Twywth Teg were around, half an hour having passed like five minutes!

Visited 31st December 2011

The stones are towering above me in the early dawn light, looming in the darkness in front of me like a pair of stone colossi. Waking up extra early, I’ve walked here from the holiday cottage where we will be seeing in the New Year, eager to visit some of the sites on Ynys Mon I’ve never seen.

Leaving everyone else in bed I grabbed a torch and OS map and set off for the stones and nearby henge. Navigating through the quagmire of mud from yesterdays heavy rains, I tramped across the field. The stones themselves are huge and chunky, this would have been such an impressive site as an intact circle consisting of megaliths this large. I’m pleased to see the stones cruel misuse as gateposts seems to be at an end, the rusting gate I’d seen in previous photos being nowhere to be seen. Now the stones act more like a ritual entranceway, leading you towards the henge of Castel Bryn Gwyn in the next field.

I give the stones a hug on my way past to the henge as the sun starts to peek above the horizon for the last time this year, being here at dawn is just magical. I think I’d underestimated Bryn Gwyn in the past, the picture in the big papery TMA doesn’t do it justice. It’s definitely worth stopping by to see these huge stones, and nearby henge if you’re on Anglesey.

This was the only one out of the four I hadn’t been to, Garn Wen trio....yes, Pen Rhiw wedge tomb....yes, even Carn Gilfach proved not difficult to find, but it took this my third visit to the area to find time enough for Garnwnda and it’s shy outlying menhir.
It was well worth the wait. Finding this last one wasn’t hard, once the proper place was found to leave the car, I left it next to the phone box more or less directly south of the chamber and the rocks it hides amongst. Once more upon the bikes it’s fifty yards back down the road, turn north/right up the footpath that looks like it’s going through someones back yard. The path is muddy, but it would be after all it chucked it down most of the way here, standing on tip toes looking over the wall to your right you can see the standing stone of Parc Hen. At the end of the muddy path a gate is reached, once on the other side the footpath diverges into a starburst of desire lines, the one that is in line with the footpath just traversed is the one you want, after a hundred yards look up to the rocks, a tall pointy rock on the highest part has the burial chamber under it. That said I didn’t go that way I went straight to the top and just scrambled around until I came across the chamber. When ever I find something for the first time it is impossible not to emit some sort of jubilatory sound, this one was a cross between Yaaay, and woohoo, a Yaaywhoo.

The four chambers strung along the headland from Carn Gilfach to Garn Wen are within two hundred yards at most of the same latitude, hard to do if your trying, extremely difficult to do by accident. But the thing that struck me about another similarity between this one and Carn Gilach is that they are both very very close to the rock outcrop and both have a standing stone less than two hundred yards away. I love the mystery, that tantalising hint of something close to an explanation to what was going through the minds of these ancient ancestors, there has to be answer, and here it is close to the surface, luckily I didnt visit Garn Fawr hillfort or it’s littler siblings so a return visit is assured.

Was the capstone moved to it’s current position ? or was it always there and they just jacked up one side and then propped it up on a single stone, either way the single stone looks wholly inadequate for the job, all that weight pressing down on just one small stone, carefully we entered the chamber. Cosy, if you like creepy crawlies, I don’t mind most of them, except the slimey ones, in the summer when it’s been dry for ages I could imagine staying here all night, yeah all night long. Come to Pen Caer headland and see these four chambers, but clear your mind first
and put in some effort.

From the path to the burial chamber you can see the stone in the corner of the field , but the field is covered in brambles, and I mean covered, but there is a gate behind it so I hoped to come at it from that direction, we went back to the car parked at the phone box, then rode the bikes down the road north east. The first gate we came to a stone was in the field but it isn’t the one we wanted, whether or not it’s ancient I do not know it isn’t on the map so must be a rubbing stone I guess set up by farmer.
We entered the field and rode over to it, then past it and left the bikes by a knackered old wall, then over that field to the gate, the one I could see from the path to the burial chamber, the stone is about twenty yards from the gate.

Tis a really good stone this one, as Merrick informs it is mainly triangular, changing shape as you walk round it and about seven feet tall.
A long haired kind of moss clings to it’s upper parts, making it look proper ancient. A small stone gathering is apparent under it’s northern face, presumably chock stones but they’re not chocking, is that even a word.
Visited on Monday 9th April and by that I mean right up close and I touched it with my hands.

Directions:
Take the A39 north out of Wells and after a couple of miles you will come to a minor road to the left; signposted Priddy. Turn here and follow the road until you come to the crossroads where a hotel is situated. Take the turning north (right), heading uphill, with a forest to your right. You will pass a forestry commission car park on your right and come to a lay by on your left overlooking a lake – park here.
Take the ‘path’ past the lake to the right and look for a single large pine tree on the brow of the hill – it is growing out of the Barrow!
The path is muddy and the bracken high but will only take you a couple of minutes.

The Barrow is covered in bracken and I would guess there wouldn’t be a lot to see in the middle of summer. The Barrow is about 10 metres across and 1.5 metres high.

You can see 3 of the Priddy Nine Barrows along the skyline.

The O/S map shows a further three Barrows on the other side of the road in amongst the trees. I didn’t go exploring but think I spotted one of the Barrows in the undergrowth next to the forestry car park – on the left of the entrance.

There were plenty of walkers about and a woman with the longest camera lens I have ever seen taking photos of ducks on the lake – it must have been about a foot long!

I liked this area a lot.

After a Did Not Find visit to Parc Cerrig Hirion, not helped by a local that was trying to send me to the Lady stone, he obviously didn’t know his own locality, it was ever so good to find the lady stone so easy to visit, I parked to one side in the farm entrance twenty yards west of the menhir. Easy Peasy . But there is no way into the field and the pesky railings don’t half get in the way, not only do I want to get close to the stone but I want to touch it, yeah even give it a hug, all those auto fumes, no close contact, if ever there was a stone in need of a hug it’s this one.
Then to hear that Carl couldn’t even stop and have a look, settling only for a drive by, gggrrr come on mate your just not trying.

We parked west of the chambers in a small rough lay by, then rode our bikes back down the hill to the site.(weeee!!!)
And what a brilliant site it is, last time I came here the bracken was high and in full obscuring mode, but it was much better this time, no bracken growth at all, it was midday and all the dew and slugs had gone, and I had my inquisitive and questioning son with me. Couldn’t be better.

I wish i’d read Carl’s fieldnotes on this place as I now need to go back and find the big stone he describes a hundred paces away on the other side of the field. But I have read Moss’s comment on the Needle rock lookalike stone and tried to recreate Robin Heath’s photo without actually seeing it.
The two are remarkably similar and it can only be intentional, but when the capstone is in place and the I suppose there would have been a backstone to the chamber also in place and then a covering mound, the stone would be hidden. But I don’t think that would matter, the builders would know it was there and the magic would carry on working. Any alignment between the two and the midsummer sun would have to be remembered and passed on verbally as it would be lost from view, and easily forgotten.

Visited 7.4.12

Directions:
ake the A39 north out of Wells and after a couple of miles will come to a minor road to the left sign posted Priddy. Turn here and follow the road until you come to the crossroads where the Hunter’s Lodge hotel is situated. There are two Barrows near the hotel.

The eastern Barrow is in a small stone wall surrounded field to the east of the hotel and is easily visible from the road.

I have one word to describe this little grass covered Barrow – cute!
(Don’t think I have ever called a Barrow cute before!)

E.H. has a more scientific description:

‘A Bowl Barrow 18m in diameter and c1.75m in height. The ditch surrounding the Barrow has become infilled but survives as a buried feature c3m wide. A slight central depression may mark the site of a partial excavation by an amateur archaeologist in 1926. No finds were reported’.

The western barrow is supposed to be on the other side of the cross roads, to the west of the hotel.

I say ‘supposed’ as although the Barrow is marked on the O/S map I couldn’t see it.
Perhaps it is no longer visible?
(or I was looking in the wrong place!)

E. H. state:
‘A Bowl Barrow 1 m in diameter and 0.5m high at its highest point. The ditch surrounding the barrow has become infilled but survives as a buries feature c2m wide’

There is certainly a lot of prehistoric activity in this area.
My O/S map shows three Barrows in a cluster west of the Drove Cottage henge, although I could only spot one from the roadside.

The Barrow in question was not much more than a low ‘hump’ in a field which had a drystone field wall running over it. There is no public right of way to the fields the Barrows are in.

E.H. report:
‘A Bowl Barrow with a mound 18m in diameter and 1.25m in height at its highest point. The ditch surrounding the Barrow has become infilled but survives as a buried feature c3m wide. A drystone wall runs east / west across the Barrow mound’.

Another Barrow directly opposite Drove Cottage Henge (on the other side of the road).

There is no public access to the Barrow and the fact the farmer was still watching me meant I had to again settle for a view from the road.
The Barrow is easily seen on the brow of the hill and looks to be much mangled.

E.H. state:
‘A Disc Barrow 18m in diameter and 1.25m in height. A level berm 7 m wide surrounds the mound and separates the Barrow from a ditch 3.5m wide and 0.75m deep. An outer bank 3.5m wide and 0.5m high surrounds the ditch. Quarrying in the area has disturbed the ditch and bank on the eastern side and there is further quarrying on the northern edge of the monument’.

Visited 7.4.12

Directions: Take the A39 north out of Wells and after a couple of miles will come to a minor road to the left sign posted Priddy. Turn here and the Henge is a short distance on the left just past Priddy Road Farm (on right).

The Henge is clearly visible from the road, looking a bit like a large doughnut with a circular ditch and a raised centre. Big for a doughnut but small by Henge standards.

I was tempted to nip over the fence to get a closer look but there was a farmer in his tractor keeping a close eye on me in the next field.
I therefore stood on the low drystone wall and viewed from the roadside.

E.H. has this to say:
‘The henge includes a circular bank 11.5m wide and 0.4m high, inside a ditch 6 m wide and 0.3m deep. Both bank and ditch are broken by a single entrance on the North West side. Near to the entrance is a low oval mound. The overall diameter of the henge is 54m’

The last of this mornings trio of hill forts on the way to somewhere else, and the only one that is actually on top of a hill.
We decided to stick to the footpath as much as possible, coming from the south west at a house/farm called Glan Tren, but alas we couldn’t find hide nor hair of it, perhaps my powers were waining but me thinks it’s been removed or hidden, not on.

So we went round the other side and parked by a playground, jumped an overly barbed wired fence and slipped and slided up the slippery slope in our well used wellies. This was another field full of sheep and lambs, I guess it’s that time of year again, when a young mans fancy is easily diverted up a hill, is that right?
The best part of the fort is on the northern side, tall banks and silted up ditches, with sheep and lambs either running away bleeting or strangely following you round.
Other parts of the fort are fenced off, this is private property, and they really don’t want you up here. I know it’s lambing time but really I’m no threat I promise. Trees block the view down over Llanybydder, but south east is open and pretty.

Difficult to visit even for the most hardened traveller.

We parked in a passing place, naughty I know but I crammed the car into one end still leaving space for passing, then walked back down to a house whose name we couldn’t make out from the road. Next to the house is a gate which we quietly crossed and made our way through another sheep and lamb infested field, why do we have so many sheep ? I don’t eat mutton or wear woolen clothes and only eat lamb rarely, who is eating all these sheep?

We made our way up to the fort, it’s quite steep but it only takes ten minutes to get to the top. This is one great hill fort, the map shows it as a spiral earthwork. The banks hiding the central summit are well over fifteen feet high, they don’t really leave much room for habitation inside, maybe a hundred, no more. There was a digger in between the two high ramparts and it had scraped back the top layer of earth, exposing much stone and some bones (probably sheep), I’m no law student but that seems illegal to me, digging inside a scheduled ancient monument. Eric wondered if Time Team had been here and we’d come during they’re tea break, he then set about trying to hot wire the digger, so I left him to it as I’d seen the battery not hooked up and the whole machine looked pretty knackered, but at least he wasn’t asking if we can go now.

We then walked a little to the north west and up hill a bit to get a view down over the fort, it was an epic view, the fort really is very impressive, and the hills gain in height to the south west where Bryn Y Gorlan stone circle is. then as we walked back down to the fort a Red Kite flew by, it’s fantastic they’ve made such a come back, and they’re so willing to fly right over you’re head instead of scarpering like a cowardly Buzzard.