Latest Fieldnotes

Eventually I head on, with so much more to see. I head back up to the northern end of the ridge, called “Bessie’s Meadow” on the map. There is another cairn shown, as well as a burnt mound, an enigmatic type of site that I have yet to encounter.

I’m not sure if I find the cairn, although I think I have. I’ve certainly found a mound of stones, but it appears to be part of a much larger low bank of stones. Perhaps another very large platform or ring-cairn? I hunt about for anything else, but eventually give up. More post-visit Cofleining shows that the cairn is overlaid by the wall of Bessie’s Meadow. Perhaps this was the bank of stones I found?

I head north to look for the burnt mound, but in truth I haven’t got much hope of finding it. The heather is dense and I’m not sure there would be enough to make identification possible, so I don’t waste any more time. I’ve still yet to encounter one of these then!

Back in the village, a path leads round the back of the church, past a modern standing stone and upwards to the gorse-clad Down. It’s a pretty stiff pull upwards, but thankfully quite short. Worth pausing to look back at the excellent views of the peninsula’s south coast as well, where a number of small cliff forts cluster above the waves.

The main group of cairns clusters around the trig-topped Beacon. Some are difficult to make out under the prevailing heather, but this is nevertheless a terrific group with wonderful views.

The first cairn encountered (Cairn IV) lies to the right (east) of the path. Apart from a few stones protruding from the heather, it’s not obvious. Some of the stones in the centre are substantial, but it’s probably the least impressive of the group.

The next cairn however, you can’t miss. The Beacon is a large stony mound with a trig pillar mounted onto its top. It has a possible/probable kerb of large blocks, particularly apparent on the northern side. It sits on the highest point of the Down and in fact of the whole Gower peninsula, so inevitably it has terrific views. The sea lies below to the west, while to the north and east the other main hills of the peninsula are all laid out, Llanmadoc Hill to the NNE, the hillforted Hardings Down closer at hand, then across the centre of the peninsula to the Cefn Bryn ridge. But the views stretch much further, even on this overcast day. To the northwest the round tops of the Preseli Mountains can be made out across the bay, while to the northeast the familiar shapes of Y Mynydd Du are visible, from Garreg Lywd to Fan Foel, then the view stretches further to Fforest Fawr and the highest central Beacons, Corn Du and Pen y Fan. Wow. Another bit of the Wales jigsaw falls into place.

The path heads northwards, downhill. The next cairn – Cairn III – sits on the right-hand side of the path and is a fairly prominent mound, buried in heather. There is an obvious central crater to help ease any doubts of identification.

To find Cairn VII, I have to head off the path, eastwards across the thankfully low heather. This one is less impressive, not much more than a slight pile of stones. The blocks do have an attractive pink tinge though and are liberally studded with quartz pebbles. The Beacon and Cairn III are silhouetted prominently against the skyline from here.

Back up to the path and onwards to the most impressive cairn of the group. Much lower than the Beacon, what it lacks in views Cairn II makes up for in stony glory. An almost contiguous ring of stones, stood up on edge, marks the extent of the cairn. You can’t miss this one! It’s a bit battered and disturbed, but a fine example of a ring cairn nonetheless.

The path continues on to Cairn I, covered in heather and quite low. Underneath a wide spread of stones shows that this one would have been massive. On the north side there are the remains of a clear kerb, again using fairly substantial stones. The material of the mound itself has been spread outwards, some spilling over the kerb into the surrounding heather.

The OS map shows one last cairn in the group, the “Ring Cairn”. This one lies further down the slope than the others, off the ridge. It is still fairly easy to locate though, due to the light colour of the stones against the dark sea of heather. A number of orthostatic blocks protrude from a clear ring, reminding me very much of the embanked circles of the Peak District. I could almost be on Stanton Moor! From here, Sweyne’s Howes is clearly visible to the north and it’s in this direction that I head next.

As I continue down the slopes towards the burial chamber, I notice a suspiciously round shape in the heather to my right. There’s nothing shown on the OS map, but it’s definitely a manmade something or other. Closer inspection reveals what appears to be the low remains of a very large cairn. There’s not much of a mound and in fact it could easily be a platform cairn, or a larger embanked ring cairn, with a raised rim around a shallower interior. Post-visit investigation of Coflein reveals this to be Cairn V.

From here it’s an easy cut across the slopes to Sweyne’s Howes.

Rhossili boasts some shops and a National Trust shop/info place (closed today), plus public toilets (handy). It also boasts a small cliff fort, a short, easy stroll from the village along the coast path leading to Worm’s Head.

Old Castle fort is a small, semi-circular earthwork perched above near vertical cliffs and occupying a small flat headland. The banks back onto the coastal path. At some point in the more recent past a building or structure was built inside the enclosure, all that’s left now is some rusting posts. Worm’s Head can be seen to the west, the wide sweep of Rhossili Bay to the north. The tide is out at present and in the distance the promontory fort of Burry Holms is currently attached to the shore, although it will sever its connection later as the tide comes in. As I walk along the cliff top inside the fort, a cloud of jackdaws explodes noisily from the cliff face below me, as wild and windswept a perch as you could find.

Along its western side, the rampart has been badly damaged by what appears to be quarrying, leaving a lumpy, bumpy area in place of the smooth banks surrounding the rest of the site.

25/03/2012 – Slightly different approach than Drew. I parked on B992 at NJ 61092171. Headed west on the Gordon Way which leads all the way to the cairn at summit of Knock Saul. Lovely sunny weather today and the walk is a good one. Better, I think, than the approach from the Suie carpark west of hill. Cairn is a good size and has a great view of Tap o Noth. It’s worth mentioning the Gordon Way. A 11.5 mile linear walk from Bennachie Vistor centre, east of Mither Tap , over the Bennachie range then Knock Saul, Suie Hill to Suie Carpark. Nice walk but probably needs two cars unless you want to walk back again!

It’s no more than two hundred yards, a five minute walk from No51 to No8, I spied a farmer seeing to his flock so I went down hill a little to put some earth between us, and I got to No8, the stone circle, without any strange looks, which can arise when carrying step ladders across Welsh hills.
I proceeded to photograph the stones from aloft, which is the best way to appreciate these stones as they are on a knoll and at ground level only one side of the circle can be seen at once.

Ladders to one side I circled the circle, leaving the interior untill i’d got everything from the exterior that I could, then the dreaded farmer came over. To begin with I thought he was talking Welsh to me, but it turns out he was talking English, just incomprehensible, I only got part of what he said, nice day and ancient cemetry was all I got, oh and he asked if the ladders were mine, with a daft smile on his face, apparently you don’t see that very often.

After he left I retook to inspecting the stones a bit closer, The biggest stones in the circle and they really are quite large are on the west side, those at the east are much smaller and trying to burrow under the grass. Inside the circle are a number of other earthfast stones suggesting a cist maybe or something else. The equinox sunrise would have appeared from the same notch in the hills, but was it for this ring cairn or the bigger one up hill, does that even make sense?
Enough, iv’e got to get to that last cairn I’ve only just learned of, time is still on my side and one word keeps me moving, Mountains, i’m off to Snowdonia in a bit.

After much oohing and aahing and lots of will I won’t I, it all fell together perfectly, like one of Hannibal’s plans. The weather, the time, the funds, all coming together at one point in time, granted the actual equinox was two days ago, but my day off is today, Thursday, and that will have to do.

I ignore the car park by the big ring cairn and carry on down the track with the Llyn to my right and hills to my left. As the lane bends round to the right I parked by the building, not very discriptive is it but I wasn’t paying much attention as I passed, I was hurrying up, getting the ladders balanced just right on my shoulder, checking out the sky and so on.
The footpath is well used, by foot, by 4x4 and by tractor and almost unswervingly takes us to Brenig 8, but I want Brenig 51 so a quick detour up hill, a wooden post marks it’s spot and there it is, possibly the most interesting, mesmerising and captivating chamberless cairn there is.
The cairn originally had an open center like the other ring cairn, in the very center was a large wooden post, but it didn’t last long as the cairns middle was filled in, finally a semicircular cairn covering a charcoal filled pit was added to the northern arc.

The first thing I noted was where the equinox sun would be rising from, two low hills cross the horizon forming a shallow V from which the sun bursts forth, shining brightly and warmly all across North Wales, I wasn’t expecting that, the suns non coincidental rise from a place of note, or the sunny day.
The second thing I noted was just how brilliant this cairn is, this is my third visit and it’s only just sinking in how much of a singular spectacle it is. The stones of the platform seem to fit together so well the architect must have sat for years determined to get them all to fit in perfectly together, like some huge prehistoric mosaic.

Then there’s that semicircular cairn, who ever heard of such a thing, stuck into the platforms northern arc, and covering a charcoal filled pit, prehistory never seemed so full of mystery as it does right now. Lets not forget the stone circle at the platforms center as well, just that ring of stones on it’s own would have been enough to get me here, maybe not this early in the morning but I still would have come, oh and three small quartz boulders are in the center also but they are more than likely recent additions, they’ve been there more than a decade at least.

Then the sun starts to rise, I turn to the thronging possy of sun worshippers at my side to gauge their reaction, only to find that i’m well and truly alone on this hill side, no one else but me to watch over the celestial magic, I wonder whether anyone else has seen this, since, you know... back then, surely not.
But times getting the better of me as it always does at these places, it’s time to go and see Number8, and if time stays on my side, there’s that special guest star later on.

This small restored kerb cairn can be visited at the same time as the platform cairn and the stone circle cairn, but it’s the evil twin in a cupboard compared to the other two.
It just tries to be too perfect, the kerb stones are nice and all, but there’s not enough cairn material to go round the cairn. I’m not at all sure if it’s still in it’s original position or not, but it sits quite well in the old field boundaries and it is in a good place to look down on the Llyn. Tractors race around the field it seems looking at the tracks around the cairn.

I visited the Stone on the 19th March 2012 CE.
It’s now very dimly lit. The entire building empty, a To Let sign hangs from the building. Through the window to the stone I could see abandoned display and merchandising displays, perhaps left behind by the sports shop that last occupied this space. The stone deserves more. Opposite the space aged facade of the new loo Cannon St station, mood lit in comparison to the empty and forgotten space that the stone resides in on the other side of the road.
There are barriers and road works currently slightly dividing a symbol of the ancient past and the modern reality of modern commuters passing buy with take away coffee and laptops unaware of the almost hidden stone. If you stop though, even just for a second then you can still spend time at the stone, consider it’s past, hope for a better custodian than an empty shop space to let.

If the remainder of the stone is still beneath ground level and you believe in the ley line theories by Iain Sinclair and others then this is still a magical place, albeit one that requires as healthy dose of imagination and romantic thought.

This is the one that everyone sees, it’s closest to the car park, and closest to the road round the Llyn, and it’’s sufficiently interesting to engage even the most casual of visitors.
A perfect ring of well fitting fist sized boulders maybe two feet tall, and about a dozen four foot tall wooden posts surrounding it, Clava like.
I don’t know if it’s perfect form is due to it being restored or moved and restored when they flooded the valley, but either way you’ll not see many like this in one country.
Greylag and Canada geese patrol the shores and nearby fields, always good to get a bird or two in the picture.
From 44 it isn’t far to Boncyn Arian, the blue eyed boy of the Llyn, and its not far to 41 aswell but that one is off the table unless your an avid wild swimmer. Like Carl says it is a peaceful place, hours well spent watching the world turning if you ask me.

With all the big complex cairns around it is easy to overlook this shapely barrow, but it is easily the most accessible and tallest of the llyns barrows, some are hidden in the forest, some are on the far shore and one even in the lake on an island, but this one is just a few yards from the big ring cairn with wooden posts in it and from the road.

It only just survived as well, when they flooded the valley to make the reservoir, Boncyn Arian was right at the edge of the water, if the wave action continues to wear away at the shore, further undercutting the banks it is only a matter of time before it will need some rescue, it’s safe for now though.
Situated at the head of the Llyn, it seems to command the whole area, most of the sites here are on the hills surrounding the water, except this barrow and the island barrow and a couple on the far shore.

From the car park cross over the stile by the gate and information board, and head up the hill bearing left, the cairn is on a knoll at the end of a prominence below the slightly higher hills, in all maybe ten minutes from the car park.
Once more were ladders slung comfortably over the shoulder and in the warm spring sunshine this would be the last of the Brenigs seen this morning.
I’d saved the best till last, but best in the sense that I haven’t seen this one before, three others seen earlier this equinox morning are more interesting, but Iv’e been here three times before and never knew it was here, it’s not marked on the map, the only one who knew of it was Victor, our old chased away freind Whatisthat, nice one Vic.

I reached the becairned hilltop rather more puffed out than I’d like, three hours of lugging step ladders round will do that to you I guess. The sheep in this field unlike their scardy friends
from earlier all crowded round me and the cairn, one in particular seemed very interested in my doings. The cairn doesn’t have the too perfect look of the other restored cairns down the road, stones poke out of it’s circumference at odd and painful angles. Grass covers the inner cairn leaving the outer kerbs to suggest maybe a ring cairn, it isn’t it’s a round cairn, a round cairn with a superb view. One of the odd jaunty angled stones has a smooth scoop in it’s top, a more comfy stone can’t be found, those with ample rears may fit better than my bony behind.
On my leaving the cairn the sheep followed me,
but not far, they were just interested in me and the cairn not just me.

Situated in rough bogland South West of Knocknaveigh.
Drainage channels have been dug right through it exposing the buried half of the stone ! Hopefully this won’t destabilise it too much.
For access,there is a gate by a ruin just south of the radio masts. Go through the gate, the stone is quite obvious some 200 metres South. The terrain is rough but not really wet. Just make a bee line straight for it,picking out the best route as you go !

The third in a line of alignments in Keilnascarta Townland. This one is of two stones and is situated about 100 metres SE of the middle row, seperated by a deep and overgrown disused railway cutting.
Both stones are of a similar height (around 1.5 metres) and are against a field hedge and are overgrown with brambles. They are aligned NE-SW.

Just south-west of the 619m summit of Windy Gyle is the place name “Split the De’il”. David Dippie Dixon (Upper Coquetdale, 1903) describes this as an upright rock, some three feet in height. Another contradictory description (1915/16), reported by Rhiannon below, describes an upright slab of porphyry, about 6 feet high, on the southern slope of Windy Gyle, in a south-easterly direction from the cairns.

Pastscape describes it as a prehistoric standing stone at grid reference NT 8563 1502 pastscape.org.uk/hob.aspx?hob_id=1184023 a location where it is correctly shown on 1:10560 scale maps prior to 1925. However, it appears to have been descheduled (as a scheduled ancient monument) in 1998.

The place name has migrated to the west on modern large scale maps, where it has become associated with the cross border tracks, and the original map position marker (an open circle) which showed at its correct location, removed.

A recent visit geograph.org.uk/photo/2851698 shows that 3 feet is the more reasonable description of its size, the stone is no longer standing, and probably originally set up as a marker, rather than having a prehistoric origin. The place name though may indicate its former prominence.

A small cluster of other stones around the toppled slab may however indicate that it could have originally been part of a cairn. Many of its stones could have been depleted by the habit of generations of walkers removing stones to place on the greater eminence of Russell’s Cairn just to the north. Interestingly, Sir W Aitchison described a Bronze Age burial mound just south of this location in 1951, something that later surveyors couldn’t subsequently find keystothepast.info/durhamcc/K2P.nsf

A medieval cross known to have been set up somewhere in the vicinity, named as Maiden Cross, is discussed here canmore.rcahms.gov.uk/en/site/59012/details/maiden+cross/&biblio=more

The site consists of a three stone row and a single standing stone.
The standing stone is about 25 yards away and is around six and a half feet high.
The row is aligned NE-SW. The middle stone has fallen and is partly buried. The SW stone has split in two giving it quite a dramatic look. This is the fourth example of a split stone that I have seen in West Cork.
Access is through a farmard at the end of a private road. The people are very helpful and friendly.

Visited 5th March 2012

This really is the most idyllic location for a site, I’m blown away (and not for once by the incessant Manx winds).

We initially found it tricky to find, no signposts indicate its presence, and there are a maze of little lanes around the village of Cregneash. We took a narrow left turn just after the village car park, heading towards the coast, having spotted a sign to ‘The Chasms’. The lane soon ended near the cliff tops at a bumpy car park. Heading towards the old cafe building, now just used as a shelter, we opened the gate and entered the chasms.

They are well named, as yawning gaps litter the area. Picking our way through them we initially head left, (as it turns out the wrong way!) and spend about twenty minutes clambering around and trying to find the site. Eventually after heading back the other way we spot the circle and work our way down to it.

Now the sky is a gorgeous blue and it’s wonderfully sheltered here at Cronk Karran. I’m sitting in the circle listening to the call of the gulls and watching the sun sparkling on the sea.

Although there is some argument as to whether Cronk Karran is a cairn circle or hut circle, to me it clearly feels like a dwelling place rather than a site of burial or ritual.

One section of the wall is double skinned, but this only extends for around six feet and has clearly defined ends. It reminded me of the stone beds built into the houses at Skara Brae on Orkney, and I wonder if it was used for this purpose here? Certainly after reclining in it for a while it was just large enough for me to stretch out fully, and in the warmth of the sun, on the relatively soft grass, I’m almost dozing off.

After reading Kammer’s fieldnotes I had high hopes for this site , and it doesn’t disappoint, it’ll be hard to tear ourselves away. Cronk Karran is a definite must visit if you are on Man.

A wonderful stone pair. Both stones are 2.5 metres high and aligned NE-SW.
Access is the same as for the row, which lies about 50 yards away to the SE across the bohreen.

There are two Stone Pairs and a three stone row here at Keilnascarta. They are in a line NNW-SSE and are all in different fields.
The three stone row is the middle of the three.
Aligned NE-SW, only two of the stones are still upright. The NE stone laying prostrate.
A Hawthorn tree has grown up the middle stone.
All the stones are of a similar height.
Access for this and the NW pair is nice and easy.
Coming from Bantry about 100 yards before the Ballydehob turning there are two bungalows on the left. A small bohreen runs up between them past a farmhouse. The Row is in the field to the right and the stone pair in the field to the left.
Ask at the bungalow on the right or the farmhouse.

Fieldnotes with a changing heart (17.3.2012).

The 501 bus driver obligingly drops me off at the end of the Ivington Park drive, along which a metalled bridleway heads straight up to the fort. I don’t really know what to expect from this, a supposedly fine hillfort with a farm in the middle of it. This obviously has the potential to make access a little tricksy.

So with some trepidation I head along the bridleway. Past Ivington Park, a couple of farmers are busy rounding up sheep in a nearby field. This approach affords a decent view of the hill, but trees cover the slopes and you can’t see the fort. As I get closer, movement in the field immediately below the treeline catches my eye, and I realise I’m looking at a small group of deer, some in full antler. They look over in my direction (I’m a couple of fields away), then languidly turn and head back up into the trees.

Coming from this direction, the ground slopes gradually and it’s worth pausing to look at the views behind and to the sides. To the northeast, the unmistakeable scarp profile of Titterstone Clee Hill can be seen, with the flatter – but higher – Brown Clee to the left. Over to the WNW, the view is of the hills of the Welsh border and Mid-Wales. I think Wapley Hill may be visible, as is the ridge that Offa’s Dyke follows between Presteigne and Kington. Beyond, although it’s an overcast day, I can make out the much higher Radnor Forest tops, Black Mixen, Bache Hill and the Whimble. To the north, the highest point is The High Vinnals.

Reaching the northwest corner of the trees, I momentarily size up the options for a scoot around the outside of the ramparts, but the fences are very barbed and the vegetation is very dense. Besides which, the right of way is going straight into the fort. I carry on up the bridleway, past a green sign telling me that entry is only permitted on foot and horseback and that there is to be no parking (Carl). Interestingly, a scratched-out part of the sign states “By order of English Heritage”. I’m not aware that this fort has ever been in state care so presumably there may have been some kind of stewardship arrangement with the landowner.

To my left the hillside slopes steeply under cover of the trees and what appear to be ramparts become visible. There are lots of “no entry” type signs everywhere here. The bridleway, still metalled, now cuts through into the rampart. The banks on either side are steep and formidable, I’m not sure that this was an “orginal” entrance though (looking at plans later suggests not).

Once through the banks, the surreally manicured lawns of Carl’s fieldnotes come into view. I’d seen aerial photos of the fort which show Camp Farm as a working farm with barns and so on. Now the farm buildings have been turned into rather nice stone-built cottages. But that’s not why I’m here and I don’t really want to intrude into the domestic scene.

Immediately to my left as I enter the fort, another decent rampart curves away past the houses. This was a fort of two very distinct phases, a smaller wedge-shaped promontory fort now inside the northwestern corner of the much larger camp. This bank on my left is the outer bank of the original camp, which I am outside of. Over to my right, the open interior of the later, larger camp stretches away to the trees. The inside of the rampart is clear to see and well-preserved, showing a decent amount of counterscarping.

The bridleway however follows the metalled driveway of the houses and I follow this round, feeling somewhat under scrutiny from the blank eyes of the house windows. Past the houses, the bridleway continues alongside the rampart of the earlier fort. A hedge has been planted on its top. At this point, I’m feeling quietly irked. I could go and ask at the houses for permission to explore more thoroughly, but something in my nature would prefer to miss out than have to ask. Typical bloody-minded Englishman probably. So I stick to the bridleway as it follows the rampart around. A gateway (possibly the original access) offers a sight of the grassy interior of the earlier fort.

At length I reach the northern edge of the fort. Here a choice of routes awaits. A footpath heads through the rampart before dropping away down the northern slopes, while the bridleway follows the northern rampart to the northeastern corner of the fort. I haven’t entirely decided on my route away from the fort yet, so I start off by going through a gate onto the footpath. The gap here is another non-original access and reveals the steep slopes of the hill, as well as showing the stone-construction of the bank. There are more signs on either side indicating that there is no access but in any case the slopes are heavily overgrown and the ramparts not at all easy to see. I elect to return to the interior and take the bridleway, which passes some old quarry pits and then follows the inside of the northern rampart. The rampart itself is fenced off as a nature reserve.

Arriving at the northeastern corner, it’s clear that I’ve found the original entrance at last. Impressive inturned banks flank a curving passageway, which the bridleway follows. This is the most impressive accessible bit of the fort. Passing through the banks reveals a deep ditch, with another lower bank thrown up on its outer side. The Malvern Hills come into view in the distance. It appears that a path runs south along the ditch, but again a number of signs indicate that this is not accessible. At this point, shooting starts up somewhere in the woods close by, just to reinforce the point. I hope it’s not the deer that are copping for it.

However, reaching the northeast corner changed my view of this site rather. As well as the bridleway sign, a small white sign stating “permissive path” indicates that it is actually possible to walk all the way around the inside of the later fort. There’s even a bench, which I take in the spirit in which it’s presented and stop for my lunch. Although the shooting goes on, somewhat reducing the ambience!

Unobtrusive signs mark the permissive way around the inside of the rampart, allowing a good view of the counterscarping. Another access into the fort opens in the southeast side, possibly original but not entirely obvious. As I make my way back to the northwest, to rejoin the bridleway, noise overhead makes me look upward, to see the brilliant sight of five buzzards and a single red kite, all wheeling above me.

Sadly at this point it starts to rain, but I’ve come to appreciate this fort much more than I expected. The permissive path is a real breath of fresh air, after all this is essentially someone’s garden (albeit the fort was here first!). So even the rain taking a turn for the heavy, just as I leave the cover of the trees and take a footpath across fields south-westwards, can’t detract from the experience. There are some minor whines of course, not least that it would have been nice to see the impressive eastern bank and ditch from the outside. But a word at the houses might allow that too (possibly not while there’s shooting going on though).

The footpath emerges onto another bridleway north of Gattertop, where another good general view of the hill can be had. A fine fort, well worth a visit (on foot or horseback, naturally).

Like the none too distant Gallows Hill round barrow – incidentally the wondrous Therfield Heath barrow cemetery lies between the two monuments – this seriously mutilated round barrow surmounts a small hill crowned by an iconic copse of trees. Another commonality is the negative attitude of the landowner toward visitors, or at least the casual, unannounced sort, a high set ‘Private – No Public Access’ sign... (or words to that effect) ... albeit consequently easily overlooked by a traveller approaching (with eyes fixed upon the knoll) along the track leading from the A505 to the south-east... making this clear.

In retrospect, upon studying the map, it is probably advisable to take the Melbourn road and approach Summer House farm from the east in order to ask permission, particularly if you wish to make an extended visit to the site. To be honest there is not a great deal to report, the round barrow, as mentioned, seriously damaged by a myriad animal burrows and much fallen tree debris.

Nevertheless an authentic vibe remains beneath the hilltop woodland, the monument consequently well worth my brief diversion from the road where, incidentally, there is a handily placed layby.

Spring Equinox arrived so a trip up to Moray beckoned with Tor Sliasg the number one priority. Head west from Buckie on the A98 turning south at the B9016. Keep going until the second minor road heading east and stop at the Oxhill Woods car park. From here it is a steady climb of about 2 miles in the pleasant Corsekell/Stonyslacks Woods to the top of the hill. However radars, telephone masts make the place look like a retirement home for spaceships. Just beyond these monstrosities a hardly used track veers south. Follow this for about 300 meters and the cairn is spotted slightly to the south.

After reading Canmore’s description I feared the worst and the cairn would be full of rubbish etc. However somebody has cleaned the place up to such an extent that cairn is clearly visible. It sits at about 14 meters wide and is 1 meter high. Unfortunately it has been robbed, trenched and quarried but it still survives. Cairn material can also be seen popping through the grass. As usual if it wasn’t for the trees (who look ancient themselves) wonderful views of the Moray Firth and Highlands to the south could be seen. Today only the view east can be seen.

If very lazy the track to the space station could be driven to but don’t do that. Moray is a beautiful place so get out and have a walk.

Visited 20/3/2012.

This is a reasonably upstanding round barrow sited upon Gallows Hill – as you might expect – overlooking the busy A505 at Odsey Corner, below to the north. The iconic, attractive copse of trees engenders a somewhat ‘Minning Low’ vibe, although a trashed red brick building footing of some description encroaching upon the mound to the north-west, together with an ugly concrete shell of a building to the south, the latter preceded by remnants of a large fire, ensure this is (nowadays, anyway) not exactly a classic location. Not to mention aerial and large, linear compost mound to the east. Then again, I’ve always been a sucker for woodland, especially a tree line viewed in stark profile against a glorious early Spring sky, the viewer bathed in sunlight, perched upon a Bronze Age barrow whilst drinking tea. How very English... what could possibly be wrong with that?

Clearly nothing. Unless you happen to be one of the occupants of Heath Farm, standing below to the south, that is. Checking the map, I was pleasantly surprised to see Gallows Hill ascended by the ‘Chain Walk’ public footpath, said route passing literally within a whisker of the round barrow’s unfenced eastern arc. So, allowing a violent shower to pass overhead, I set about attempting to make sense of the site. Suddenly a rather comical labrador appears and decides to noisily confront me. Ha! Now don’t get me wrong, I like labradors – why, the Mam C used to own one, and Ceri was one day literally mauled by the cat at the top of the street, the pathetic creature. Some light relief, then. Except this dog’s owner was far from pleasant, the woman seemingly a cold, acerbic mixture of overbearing pedantry juxtaposed with ignorance of the significance of her own surroundings. Yeah, she is very hostile, completely unable to comprehend why I – why anyone – might feel the need to take pictures of ‘her’ hill top. Apparently I’m trespassing, despite the public footpath being literally a few feet from the mound, grossly ignorant for not walking all the way down the hill to ask permission to deviate a few feet from an unfenced public path. I beg to differ, the traveller consequently only able to feel pity toward what would appear such an unhappy soul.

Needless to say I won’t be rushed and, happily, my perseverance is rewarded when Nature decides to take a hand, the rain clouds duly dissipating to a pristine blue sky, the round barrow illuminated in a golden glow. A wonderful moment well worth all the aggravation. And at least the landowner’s wishes are now on record, should any other member happen to be passing by. If so – and why not? – arguably the best place to park is within the layby leading to a petrol station just north-east of the Ashwell junction of the north carriageway of the A505 (hey, why not pay a visit to Arbury Banks as well?). Needless to say, please, please be careful when crossing the road... and beware of the landowner!

A row of 3 stones aligned NE-SW situated just 2 metres South of a radial cairn.
Two of the stones are still upright, whilst the SW stone leans heavily .
A fourth stone lies prostrate alongside the row, but is probably connected with the cairn.

The remains of a radial cairn sit 2 metres to the North of the row.
There is an arc of 7 kerb stones at the Southern end and a number of loose boulders dotted around the interior.

Visited 17.3.12

Directions:
Take the first turning (minor road) north/west off the A429 immediately after the junction with the A436. (This is the first turning on the left after the Bourton-on-the-Water brown tourist information signs pointing to the right) when driving north along the A429. Follow the minor road for about 2km and there is a space to park at the junction just before Manor Farm
All you then have to do is jump over the new shiny metal field gate to the west (left), walk around the edge of the trees and you will see the Barrow directly in front of you.

The Barrow is surrounded by a dry stone wall and covered in trees. A fence surrounds the wall but has collapsed in places.

E.H has this to say about the site:
‘This is a Bowl Barrow just below the crest of a south east facing hill between the rivers Eye and Windrush. The Barrow is 25m in diameter and is 1.7m high. Surrounding the mound is an infilled ditch which can no longer be seen at ground level but survives as a buried feature 4m wide’.

This is a very easy site to access (as long as you don’t mind a minor bit of trespassing) and is well worth a look when in the area.