Latest Fieldnotes

An impressive large quartz boulder burial. West of the cairn and standing stones. About 200 metres West of the Stone Circle.
Two support stones are barely visible.

in a line of monuments – a standing stone – this cairn – Boulder burial.
The cairn (probably a radial cairn), was turned into part of a penitential stations. The area takes it’s name from St Colman and became the focus of a pilgramage, with the pilgrims doing their rounds on Beltaine.

Standing Stone about 60 metres to the North West of Cullomane East Circle. It has now fallen but stood atop of the hill overlooking the circle. When upright it stood 1.17m tall x 0.85m x 0.48m and was aligned E-W.
measurements from National Monument Survey website.

There’s plenty to see on Masson Hill. Crowning almost the very top is this barrow. the barrow is surrounded by caves, victorian show caverns (if you know the still open secreted entrances to them), mine shafts, mine levels, q-pits, gardens, cable cars and meres.....

11/03/2012 – Parked car at NT 23763715. Headed up through trees to summit of Cademuir Hill (416m) then west to first hillfort, the Whaum (NT 23523794). This is more of a complex. A little hard to make out as most of it is grassed over. Next we went SW up to the highest hillfort, Cademuir Hill 1 (NT 23043748). Wow, this one is big and great views down steep southern slope. Then on to the slightly lower hillfort, Cademuir Hill 2 (NT 22473708). This is the pick of the three for me. Coming from the NE you have to cross a chevaux de frise before climbing over the best walls on the hill. Great forts. great hill, great walk.

11/03/2012 – I’d been looking forward to visiting this well for a long time. No antiquity but anything connected to fairies is good with me. Parked at Traquair village hall (NT 3308 3458) and climbed Minch Moor via the Southern Upland Way. The well is very near the top. Many coin offerings there. Lovely view. It didn’t disappoint.

Visited 4th March 2012

Parking up in the small village of Ballugh outside the church of St Mary, the bells were calling the faithful to Sunday morning service, but we were in search of a place of older gods...

Taking the footpath opposite the church a pleasant walk down a tree lined path takes us over a stream and soon the asphalt lane becomes a mud track, with high gorse hedges shielding the fields. The OS map indicates the stone will be to our left, but the embanked gorse makes it maddeningly difficult to see anything.

Soon however a conspicuously trampled path up the bank where there is a gap in the gorse allows me to spot the stone. There is no sign of any gate into the field, but with the Ravenfeather mantra of ‘It’s not a visit unless you can hug the stone!’ ringing in my head, I endeavor to clamber over the bank and fence to gain access to the field. Trying not to do myself an injury on the barbed wire I step over the low fence, but Ellen very sensibly elects to stay on the bank to view the stone from afar.

A short trek over the ploughed field brings me to the stone. Well ooh err missus! This is one of the most phallic stones I’ve seen, the bulbous bit of stone at the base (use your imagination) and veiny, ridged (for her pleasure) sides, adding somewhat to the effect, and not for nothing is it known as ‘Mannanan’s cock’. It must be around 6’ in height and fairly chunky. A fine and unusual stone to visit, it’s just a shame the field it stands in isn’t more accessible.

10/03/2012 – Parked car in A702 layby (NT 10904752). Took signposted path to West Linton and half way there headed to top of Mendick Hill. Fine view of the landscape these three cairns are set in from here. Descended NW to first cairn, 450m NE of Upper Cairn. A lot smaller than the other two (3ft high). Grassed over with disturbed centre. Next we visited Upper Cairn, a short tussocky walk away and then on to the Nether Cairn. This one is brilliant. Followed track to Garvald than back to car. The weather was not great but still had a great day. Thanks to Gladman for his photos of this cairn which made me make the visit here.

This is a truly magical place and (disputably) the highest place in Dorset, I believe it is as everything else in sight from here is below.

The approach I took was from Broadwinsor on the B3164 and then onto the B6132 and then take the bridle way at the old farmhouse across the filed and up towards Lewesdon Hill.

Before the steep climb begun I crossed what I’m told is an old drovers road or route, this place feels incredibly atmospheric from here right until you reach the top, with trees ranging from relatively young beech trees to ancient looking Oaks.

Oncve at the top there is a clear and quite flat plateau, surrounded almost completely with trees but still offering amazing views to Pilsdon Pen, Golden Cap and Lambert’s Castle. Maybe with a pair of binoculars and on a clear day you could even see across to Glastonbury Tor, as my guide and fellow walker on this day has.

On visiting yesterday I found the ever growing housing estate of Pounbury growing closer, in fact in places the view is dominated by the faux historic architecture.

Even so Poundbury Hillfort still retains its soul, housing estates, construction works, railway lines all play a part in its modern day perspectives but do not disconnect this place from Maiden Castle or the landscape as a whole. Although very easily accessible from the road this still feels like a hidden place, perhaps because it’s somewhat on the edge of time. Well worth a visit if you find yourself near to Dorchester.

Nice boulder burial to the NNW of Mount Corrin. A fence which ran across it has been partially torn down. Two support stones are visible.
It’s in a pretty boggy corner of the field I find out, as my foot sinks into the black smelly peaty goo.....

As mentioned by Ocifant – it’s a confusing site.
A complex of a five stone circle, three boulder burials and a stone pair, as well as a host of other stones laying around.
The boulder burials are laid out on a N-S line.
It is thought by some that originally there was a multiple circle here, which was destroyed, (a lot of stones do indeed lay by the field hedge beside the river). Too much damage has probably been done to ever really know.
But still a wonderful site to visit and ponder over.

Pumlumon.... ‘Mother of Rivers’, extreme Bronze Age cemetery... and all round bloody natural marvel... dominates this area of Mid Wales, not so much in profile as by sheer, green, soggy mass. Its magnetic pull is such that the previous day’s visit is extended to more or less nightfall, the traveller simply loathe to waste a moment. Consequently, too late to find a place to camp before dark, I settle down for the night at the Waun y Gadair picnic area overlooking Llyn Clywedog. Surely no man-made reservoir has a right to be so damn attractive. Surely? But credit where it’s due, I guess.

The morning dawns overcast, ethereal even, with occasional shafts of sunlight piercing the gloom. Noticing a small ‘fort’ marked upon my (old charity shop procured) 1:50k OS map above the southern tip of the reservoir, I decide to pay a ‘quick’ visit... no time for another apparently ancient earthwork, Dinas (yeah, very linguistically prosaic, these Iron Age inhabitants of Wales), immediately west of the car... or yet another, due south of Bryn-y-Fan. But there you are. Needless to say things do not go to plan for, like the poverbial ‘just the one’ in the bar, a visit to Pen-y-Gaer intoxicates... not by way of alcoholic inebriation, the progressive dulling of the senses, the somewhat comforting sensation of retraction of self awareness... but by an euphoric explosion of thoses senses – at least today, battling high winds – each straining at the leash to experience the promise of heightened perception! Ha! Time to cut the restraints, methinks, and let the spirit fly... or something like that. I really don’t have the words.

A minor road leaves the B4518 and heads towards the reservoir dam, crossing the outflow, the Afon Clywedog, en route to the remains of a lead mine. Fine, if that’s your bag. However if not, stay calm and carry on, the road rising steeply, and after negotiating a sharp bend, park verge side near a cattle grid. Looking back, the hillside rising immediately to the right is Pen-y-Gaer, stone rampart clearly visible, the dam lying more or less immediately below to your left. Simples. A fence bars progress upwards, but as I recall this was in pretty poor repair.... a short, grassy ascent all that is required to reach the summit of the hill, girdled by the aforementioned single dry stone rampart, collapsed, but still pretty substantial (sadly the summit cairn is cited by Coflein – and to be honest, appears – modern).

The wind is sharp this morning, but sunshine continues to periodically light up the landscape which, it has to be said, is pretty special. Ironically it is man made Llyn Clwyedog which makes the biggest impression aesthetically speaking... but the surrounding hills... chief amongst them Pumlumon itself, are not really in need of a supporting act. As for the hillfort fabric, here and there original courses of stone work appear to have survived the millennia. But, as is often the case with such sites, it is the location, the very manner with which the visitor must interact with the landscape, that leaves the most lasting impression.

Or is it that, somehow, time has left Pen-y-Gaer to enjoy its retirement in obscurity. How come?

Here’s one to which to take your kids – assuming you have any of the little blighters, of course – and chuckle whilst imagining prim Ms Wilberforce (all starchy white blouse and heaving bosom) wishing she’d never asked little Johnny what he did at the weekend.... much to the amusement of the other children in class. Ha! But, hey, I kid you not, this is what it’s called. Check the map.

The monument upon Bummers Hill is actually quite an upstanding round barrow, albeit heavilly overgrown and sited behind barbed wire immediately north – and in full view of – Mutfords Farm. An adjacent farmyard of ancient, rusting cars adds a somewhat ‘hill-billy vibe’ to proceedings, but (thankfully... not to mention obviously) shotgun wielding country dudes are conspicuous by their absence. In fact there is no answer at the farm, so I assume no-one will mind if I go and have a little look at close quarters.

The positionning of the barrow is interesting, overlooking Little Hormead Brook to the north and the River Quin – not that ‘mighty’ (hence just the one ‘n’)... but it does the job – to the west. Other minor streams complete the water features, the presence of these perhaps a significant original factor, perhaps not?

Bummers Hill will not blow visitors away with its size, siting or vibe. No, there is a softer... dare I say it, more ‘mundane’ feeling in the air here, set upon a working farm in a sleepy corner of Hertfordshire. But to me that is precisely its charm. It’s just... well.... here. No fanfare, no information board. Almost as if it’s always been here, a part of the landscape itself. Which, if you think of it, is not that far from the truth. And, somehow, it’s survived the millennia. Right on!

I approached from the north, parking in a dedicated ‘field car park’ set aside for visitors to the church. Reach the latter by taking Worsted Lane from the B1368, then turning right.

In the corner of a small field just off the road. In the shadows of Mount Gabriel which lies to the North West.
The stones are alignes NNE-SSW and there is a boulder burial marked on the map some 40 metres to the South South West, the other side of a small stream.

07/07/2009 – Visited this hillfort a few years back. Parked at NO 04124045. Climbed west up path to King’s Seat then on to Craig Obney hillfort. Nice feeling of middle of nowhere about this one. Went north and followed Inchewan Burn back to car.

As we drag ourselves away, time is pressing on rapidly. We decide to make a final stop off at the two western Hafotty-fach cairns as the sun starts to sink. The overcast gloom that has dogged most of the afternoon has largely lifted, except on the highest slopes, and the light transforms into that beautiful evening glow that illuminates the best of winter evenings.

The cairns are in a field next to the road, access land with a ladder stile providing easy access. The field is very wet and boggy near to the gate, but relatively dry where the cairns themselves are. We make for the southwestern cairn first, as it’s the more obvious of the two on the ground. It turns out to be huge, but denuded to little more than a low ring of rubble. It may have been a ring-cairn in the first place, but equally the surrounding drystone walls may tell a tale of robbing out. The sun sinks lower, brushing the hilltops to the west and painting everything with a soft glow.

The northeastern cairn is even more robbed out than its companion, so it’s not easy to see until you’re practically on top of it. Stones protrude from the grass, but you could easily be forgiven for walking past without a glance unless you knew what to look for.

But who cares? The surrounding hills, the soft evening light, the end of a brilliant day out, all make such quibbles sound petty. I would like to think that the builders of these cairns would appreciate their purposeful, infrequent visitors, providing a continuity of interaction stretching back into the long distant past. As someone once said, “all those people, all those lives, where are they now?”

The road winds ever on, passing through a series of tedious gates and below the lovely-looking Waen-Bant stone. After this we turn north, descending a steeply sloping lane to park up at the end of the Llys Bradwen track. Postie knows what’s in store, but I have no idea. The map is inscrutable, merely showing “stones” in non-antiquity script. A short walk along the track brings us to a lovely clapper bridge, which could happily grace chocolate boxes the world over. Over it we go, noting the square footprint of a (presumably medieval) building next to the path. We head straight up the hill, where the wrecked remains of a very large cairn come into view.

On reaching the cairn (definitely wrecked), Postie points towards the stones. And I’m hooked instantly by the huge blob of quartz, before I even see the other stones, arranged in a ring. Sorry, arranged in a line. No, it’s a ring. And a line. I have no idea what it is. Apart from the quartz block, none of the stones are anything special in themselves. But the arrangement is so weird and inexplicable that the site is a complete winner. My own view is that the locals decided to try something different, an abstract piece, modern art. They would have invited the neighbours round, to inspect this addition to the area’s megalithic creations. “Oh yes, I can see what you’ve done there, very thought-provoking (aside: what the hell is it meant to be?)”. I’m entranced. This is the highlight for me, today.

On our way again, we stop briefly in the “fishermen only” parking area, where I get ready to pretend I’ve just misplaced my rod, so that I can have a quick scoot up to Carreg y Big. What a lovely stone, what Burl might describe as a playing card. I always like stones that present different aspects from each side, this is one of those. Squat and chunky looking from the south, it becomes thin and pointy from the west, looking along the valley. The mist-wreathed Tyrrau Mawr provides the unbeatable backdrop to the south. The view of Pared-y-Cefn-hir to the north is entirely blocked off by a little hillock that the stone seems to shelter beside.

Our descent has been guided by an obvious bulge in the drystone wall below, as the map shows a cairn right next to it. At length we reach the bulge, but at first can see nothing of the cairn. Eventually it reveals itself as a barely visible bump in the heather, slightly lighter in colour than its surroundings. A bit of poking and prodding in the vegetation reveals about three stones, enough to convince us we’ve found the cairn, but not enough to get us overly excited. Anyone planning a visit should perhaps bring a flamethrower (not really).

There’s a handily placed (and free) carpark next to the picturesque Llynnau Cregennen. From here the hillfort takes on a daunting aspect, what Postie describes as a mini-Matterhorn. An obvious path winds up from the lakeshore, looking like a fairly straightforward ascent. And so it turns out to be, although steep enough to leave me puffing and panting as we get near to the summit ridge. The views are lovely, the twin lakes below us and the Mawddach estuary away to the west, crossed by its neat rail/foot bridge. The higher we climb the more we find ourselves entering the drizzly mist that clings to the much higher ground of the Cadair massif to our south. A choice of paths, little more than sheep tracks takes us up to the top of the ridge. The name of this hilltop, “the Wall of the Long Ridge” I think it translates roughly as, is certainly apt. There is little to show in the way of a fort, even the interior space is cramped and rocky. I get the impression this would a place of desperate refuge, somewhere to make a last stand after abandoning homesteads and farmland in the fertile valleys below.

For all its wild desolation, there is a compelling grandeur, even in the wind-lashed rain that prevents photography in most directions. The views on all sides are stunning, from the mountains, past lakes to the still-shining sea. To the east, serried ranks of lower hills, including Craig y Castell where we were earlier, march away into the gloom. The ground drops away vertiginously over slick black rocks.

We have a good nose about the interior, but at this western end of the ridge there are no signs of any ramparts. Postie suggests we make for the next mini-summit eastwards, for a retrospective of the fort. The path now takes us along a gully between rocky walls, slightly odd but at least sheltered from the rain and wind. Emerging from the other end we realise that we haven’t left the fort at all, as in front of us is the first tangible proof of manmade defences. A clear rampart of rubble cuts across the neck of the hill, with a gap in the centre, now partially choked with collapsed stones, indicating the (presumably) original entrance. Rather better than we had been expecting!

We decide to carry on eastwards along the ridge, as there is a cairn and hut circle shown on the map to look for below the hill’s slopes. As we turn away from the rampart, we are rewarded with a spectacular rainbow arcing over the eastern end of the hill, its pot of gold ending somewhere below us. A breathtaking display of nature. She comes in colours, indeed.

A final climb up to another mini-summit (this ridge sure ain’t level) gives us yet another perfect retrospective, the hill behind now a near-black mass before the bleached-out seaboard beyond.

We finally make our way down, as the clouds are lifting and the slopes below are lit up, revealing what appears to be the patterns of a small field system, very like the “British” fields you find in rural Cornwall. As we descend, we also come across the ruins of a circular structure, which could easily be a hut circle, or maybe it’s just a sheepfold. Neither of us can say for sure. There is no clear path down, or at least if there is we’re not on it, instead it’s a matter of cutting through knee-deep heather while trying not to fall flat over the slippery rock hidden beneath. I’m tired by the time I get to the bottom!

20/03/2011 – Parked at NT 70545604. Walked west through gate and followed track which leads up this steep hill. The cairns are very overgrown and hard to make out. I remember more about my knees giving me grief that day to be honest than the cairns.

21/03/2011 – Room for a car at NT 57943722. We walked along track towards Cowdenknowes Mains than SE up Black Hill to fort. Great little hill. You can see why they built a fort here.

20/03/2011 – Good parking at east side of bridge over Whiteadder Resr (NT 64576421). We followed track north then east to Gamelshiel Castle. Bit of a pull up from here to get to the cairn on summit of Spartleton Hill. View’s changed a bit since Martin’s fieldnotes, big wind farm to north now.

19/03/2011 – Parked the car at Ranger Centre (NT 23426311). Good path leads west up steep hill then SW to cairn on summit of Carnethy Hill. This is a big cairn with a great view. We continued on to Scald Law, the two Kips and looped back over Black Hill to car. Great day out with lovely weather for this time of year.