Latest Fieldnotes

02/01/2012 – Car Park at NJ 8443 1473. Through gate and head SE over Blue Hill. Pass through cairnfield to hut circle which is on the east side of Blue Hill. I’ve walked past this a few times but it has always had cows in the field. not today :) Great hut circle (my new favourite). Good view from it. Very near the Slacks Cairn and hut circles.

31/12/2011 – Good place to park car at NO 53194 90592 at the end of the road through the Forest of Birse, west of Finzean. The hut circle marked on the OS map is only a few minutes walk west of here. Another hut circle just west of that. Forest of Birse is worth a visit just for the scenery alone. Very quiet. Ancient highways, the Fungle Road and the Firmounth Road, connecting Deeside to Glen Esk pass through here. Nice place for a stroll.

‘All is quiet on New Year’s Day’... so sang that wee Irish fella, Bono... before he began hanging out with politicians, saving the world and indulging in other such important matters. Not to mention wearing silly specs. But I guess his heart’s in the right place, a bit like the Bronze Age round barrow at Old Harlow, despite a continual cacophony of noise from the nearby kennels rendering the opening line of U2’s seasonal song fanciful, at best.

Last year’s ongoing attempt to discover more of my ancient Essex heritage somehow did not include a visit to Harlow... what with the mighty Wallbury just up the road. So what better time to remedy that omission than on the first day of the new year? As with most Essex monuments, the Old Harrow barrow is tucked away from the gaze of the passing motorist, although whether such seclusion mirrors its erectors’ original intention is perhaps something we will never know. Was there always a screen of foliage adding a veneer of mystery to the site, the lowland equivalent of the mountain top cairn being set back from the skyline? Or were these great earthern barrows meant to act as a beacon, dominating the landscape?

Upon arrival, my first impression is that the mound is a lot more substantial than I anticipated [hopefully the scale image gives a good indication], both in respect of height and area covered. Several trees have made the ancient soil their home, the radiating branches of one such youngster curiously reminding me of a natural representation of Bryn Cader Faner. The summit is covered by bramble, although not to an excessive extent, the western flanks more or less clear, allowing space to sit and take in the surroundings. A large pond – or small lake – to the east adds a water feature, although a ‘work shop’ area of some description to the north might be an issue on other days. The aforementioned hounds eventually shut up, the only disturbance then the occasional, friendly local passing by, together with cars in the middle distance. Beyond, upon waste ground to the south-west(ish), air photography had apparently highlighted what was thought to be the course of a cursus, perhaps the least understood of all monuments. I take a look, but see nothing. Perhaps this is not surprising since Essex HER now reckons the linear crop marks probably represent much more recent ‘tracks’. More’s the pity.....

Access to the Old Harlow Barrow is easy.... once you’ve sorted somewhere to park, that is. From Junction 7 of the M11 take the A414 towards Harlow. At the fourth roundabout (with school to the right) turn right upon the B183 (Gilden Way) and, beyond another roundabout, the site is within trees a little to the right, beside a public footpath. I carried on a little further and parked down the next left, walking back. Note that there is ‘official’ access, so no need to climb any fences. Happy New Year!

I had never actually been up to Old Sarum before, though have passed it many times. Today to celebrate the new year I travelled down to Salisbury with a friend intending to walk up to Old Sarum along the River Avon and through water meadows. The weather forecast was for the rain to hold off until late afternoon, this proved incorrect as we just made it to the village of Stratford Sub Castle when heavy rain set in. Not wearing a waterproof jacket today so just at the foot of Old Sarum we decided to turn back, although we still got a soaking. No matter, as we started our return walk a lone swan circled us in flight, always a rare and wonderful sight.

We decided to drive up to Old Sarum on the way back; as reported in the News Section about winter closures there were indeed closed signs. The hillfort is open to walkers, however, as I spotted a stoical runner go through the gate. My friend parked the car for a few moments by the entrances to the hillfort where we stood in the rain looking towards Salisbury Cathedral – just visible through the rain. We also had a very good view of the deep ramparts of the hillfort.

Travelled back via Stonehenge which looked majestic and beautiful in the rain – the umbrellas of the visitors adding colour to a scene which otherwise would have been rain swept monochrome.

Almost seven years on from my last field notes here I visited again, this time with my Daughter for company.

The benefit of visiting on 26th December is that there is no one about at the quarry next door, so this time there was better for exploring the geographical context of the Bridestones and to further explore the connection to the landscape. Just of from the site standing at the quarry building there is the most spectacular view over Staffordshire and Cheshire, truly awe-inspiring in the distance the naked eye can see. I am convinced that this spot would have been of prime importance in relation to the Bridestones, and there reason for being here, I suspect they weren’t placed here in isolation but would have been a small part in a wider use of this area, leading up higher and higher to the peak of the cloud.

Arenig Fach is always going to remain in the shadow of its big sister across Llyn Celyn, the latter attracting far more visitors, assuming my own experiences – not to mention inclusion within numerous guide books – are reasonably representative. Such is life, I guess. We’re never going to overcome the general human tendency to believe that ‘biggest is best’, to take things (and situations) at face value. And, of course, Arenig Fawr is a fine mountain, crowned by the remains of a Bronze Age cairn and dominating the shoreline of the reservoir, whilst the smaller peak is all but invisible to the passing motorist upon the A4212. All I’m saying is that Arenig Fach is very much worth primary focus as well, providing a much more intimate experience, with no reduction in quality of landscape... just on a somewhat smaller scale. To prove the point, take the (very) minor road traversing The Migneint (literally, ‘The Bog’) to descend towards the Machno valley... where the mountain suddenly takes Centre Stage, as if this brutal, hostile – not to mention wet! – landscape and the peak are inextricably linked. From this direction it’s hard to see how any ‘stonehead’ would not want to see the Bronze Age cairn upon THAT?

Suffice to say I have wanted to return ever since a short visit way back in 1995. But then you never seem to get around to things, do you? Carnedd Llewelyn may have usurped perfect conditions for a visit the day before, but for some reason I simply must see Carnedd y Bachgen before I return home. Hell, the weather doesn’t look that bad today. Does it?

It has to be said that, despite rising to the relatively modest height of 2,260ft, Arenig Fach does not tolerate visitors lightly. A-ha! Perhaps that’s why it receives so few, then? The first problem, appropriately enough, occurs right at the start.... where to begin? Unless you are a fan of long distance bog bashing – and fancy following the Afon Serw to approach from the north-west (I’m not) – the only real, practical option that I’m aware of is from the A4212, near the north-western tip of Llyn Celyn. Driving north, I park at the entrance to a concrete track [at approx SH413845] and take a very obscure (unsigned) public footpath opposite a corrugated iron sheepfold, a little north of a prominent waterside boulder, just before power lines cross the road. Advance uphill, with pylons rising above to right and left, cross a lateral footpath and.... basically..... continue roughly uphill to the west, keeping north of Beudy Fron-wen. At (very approximately) SH840413, I chance upon what looks to me a possible trashed, round cairn, or perhaps hut circle? Maybe. Needless to say, what with fence posts piled on top of what looked like the remnants of a cist, the site – if indeed it is a monument – is in a very sorry condition. A small, ruined, drystone structure stands forlornly to my left, a substantial drystone wall impedes progress westwards (there’s a gap a little to the south) towards the ridge of Bryn Du. Skirting the high ground to the right, I eventually arrive at the hidden jewel that is Llyn Arenig Fach, just as the sun breaks through the overcast mantle to flood the landscape with light, drab colours suddenly metamorphosised into hues of indescribable intensity. Worth the effort alone, despite the cloud base which is now swirling across the crest of the majestic cliffline which towers above the lake. This crest must now be attained.

The obvious route is to ascend by a fenceline to the left [although the right hand option is probably easier in retrospect], not as easy as it at first appears, the terrain deep heather, concealing many an ankle twisting undulation. Eventually I reach the top and realise how far conditions have deteriorated, particularly in respect of the wind. Pretty bad. However Carnedd y Bachgen calls and I’ve a fence line as a guide. I follow this to a junction with another, cross over as best I can and head approx westwards to the summit and the Bronze Age cairn. Although clearly heavily robbed – there’s an dry-stone shelter at the actual summit, together with an OS trig point – the monument remains impressive, utilising the form of the crag upon which it stands in the same manner as Foel Grach, and to equally great effect. The interior of the cairn is somewhat camouflaged by moss, but nonetheless appears somewhat hollow, albeit with some substantial stones in situ. Yeah, I’m glad I came. Trouble is, Nature appears progressively peeved by the impertinence of my presence......

Sure, the wind is severe, the lowland drizzle transformed into horizontal, lashing rain. But, hey.... this is Wales. So I’m not expecting to be picked up and dumped unceremoniously on my back as I attempt to venture towards the trig! Point taken, mam. Subsequently I decide the best place to be is on my back within the cairn to see if this front will pass and afford me the views I crave. It doesn’t and I am therefore denied the vistas, too. It’s also somewhat difficult to eat lunch, but I refuse, on point of principle, to use the shelter. Oh no. If you talk the talk, you have to walk the walk. And besides... Carnedd y Bachgen is incredibly, evocatively ethereal today, what with the mist swirling around. Eventually, however, I must begin the descent, shaken and most definitely – definitively, even – stirred. But the waterproofs hold and, after pausing lakeside to reflect upon past times with mum and dad, I reach the car none the worse for wear.

So, yes. Arenig Fach is very much worth the effort. Even in some of the worst conditions Snowdonia can throw at the traveller.... I reckon you can suss why this isolated summit was chosen as ‘somewhere special’. Quite simply, it is.

As alluded to in previous fieldnotes, it is perhaps somewhat ironic that the great, domed summit plateau of Carnedd Llewelyn is not crowned by a monument more ‘worthy’ of the position.... particularly bearing in mind the association with the Princes Llewelyn (never been quite sure which was given the honour, if not both?) and the much more substantial cairn gracing Foel Grach, below to the north. But there you are. The Bronze Age peoples of Snowdonia did behave in strange and wondrous ways, did they not? And, of course, the Carnedd Llewelyn cairn has undoubtedly suffered far more erosion from the boots of walkers than the much more obscurely sited Foel Grach monument, not only surmounting the highest peak of Y Carneddau, but also standing at the ‘crossroads’ of four of the range’s main ridges. Yeah, it was a suitable spot, all right.

I reckon most aficionados of the mountain would agree that the most exciting route to the summit is via Pen Yr Ole Wen, the most taxing probably the very long approach from Bont Newydd to the north. Another possibility, however, is a high level circuit of Cwm Eigiau. I arrived by way of the northern arc of this last option this time around, via a very worthwhile diversion to Foel Grach en-route, descending in more or less the same manner.

Carnedd Llewelyn’s Bronze Age cairn surveys a brutal landscape of rock. Gone are the grassy, whaleback ridges of the northern Carneddau, the main ridge, connecting the sentinel peak to its neighbour, Carnedd Dafydd, narrow and precipitous in comparison, anticipating Tryfan and Y Glyderau across the Ogwen valley. Ha! This truly is a warrior’s grave, a spot suitable for martial heroes hewn out of the metaphorical granite. Hell, for Arthur himself, even. Never mind Llewelyn. All is on a grand scale... save the cairn itself... the towering crags of Ysgolion Duon (’The Black Ladders’) visible across Cwm Llafar to the south west, the be-cairned summit of Carnedd Dafydd rising above; the vistas stretching to all points of the compass, none more so than toward a veritable tsunami of cloud pouring over Tryfan to periodically engulf me, sat upon this stone pile, in clammy, opaque vapour. I feel terribly vulnerable (Carnedd Llewelyn is notoriously difficult to navigate from in mist, so please have your compass bearings to hand), yet paradoxically more alive than I’ve probably ever been, at least in recent memory. The cloud suddenly disperses, as if a drawn up by an unseen, giant hand, leaving a ‘Brocken Spectre’ of myself in the void above Ffynnon Llyffant. It is a special moment. Yeah, clearly it’s not the size, but where you put it that counts. At least in respect of Bronze Age cairns....

Another possible funerary cairn – Tristan’s – (again attributed much folklore) lies below, to the south-east, above the source of the Afon Llugwy. There is a further, more certain example gracing the summit of Pen Llithrig Y Wrach, beyond Pen Yr Helgi Du. These monuments lie upon the second half of the Cwm Eigiau skyline route. However I do not have the stamina today – and probably will never have again – so consequently must return the way I have come. In many respects this is a blessing in disguise since I’m thus able to truly chill out (tell me about it... it’s freezing) upon this fabulous mountain top for an extended period. Nothing to do but simply use my senses. There is an awful lot to perceive, it has to be said. Little details, like the cairn footprint suggesting an orientation toward Carnedd Dafydd... to pondering the biggest questions of all.

According to author Terry Marsh (as related within his guide ‘The Mountains of Wales’) there exists in Los Angeles (of all places) a religious sect which believes that Carnedd Llewelyn is one of nineteen ‘holy mountains’ throughout the world to endow the visitor with ‘cosmic energy’ enabling him/her to give enlightenment and unselfish service to mankind. Hmm. I’ll keep an open mind in that respect.... and would like to find out who they are and on what basis they think that.... but I have to admit a visit to Carnedd Llewelyn is memorable, to say the least. Probably need to work on the altruism, though.

This solitary barrow sits on the edge of a track which diverts from the South Downs Way at Springhead Hill leading South West towards Burpham and North Stoke. There are superb views across the rolling downland hills and on this particular day a spectacular sunburst above Arundel Castle (Camelot!)

I like the fact that this barrow has a name as so few round barrows do, although I suppose they all did to begin with, they just got lost in the mists of time. This one, I believe, is a Saxon name and might possibly be connected to the strange earthwork slightly South of it. This looks like a giant dew pond but apparently isn’t. Possible explanations include a siege fort or animal enclosure. The latter would seem a more obvious choice as there are nearby field systems (celtic or medieval?) and it’s deep in livestock grazing country.

This was to be Eric’s first real mountain climb, his slack jawed expression of disbelief when I pointed out where we were going wasn’t very encouraging.
We parked as close to the dam on Llyn Cowlyd and started the walk, we probably spent too much time at the dam, messing about as children are wont to do, but then we got going.
There is no certain path from where we started, so we were free walking a path of our own choosing, through bogs across deep icy snow drifts, it’s his first snow of the year so this was particularly fascinating. (long drawn out wistful sigh)
All the way up thus far the low clouds had veiled the summit, and Eric had his first taste of mountain walking, that is, when you crest a ridge thinking your nearly there and then thump, still loads left yet.
We got right under the summit, only a 150 vertical meters to go and Eric had his second mountain lesson, heights are scary.
So scary in fact that he didn’t want to go right up to the top, I tried some gentle persuasion, some bribery, then some reverse psychology, but he had become firm, Pen Llithrig Y Wrach summit would have to wait for another day.
He said at the bottom, back at the car, that he regretted not going all the way to the top, Daft head Bear Grylls was on the radio after and he convinced Eric to trust his Dad and give it another go, so the first Sunday with money and good weather, we’ll give it another go, only without the two mile stone hunting walk beforehand.

Pumlumon... and the Cwmdeuddwr Hills rising above Elan... may well share the distinction of forming Wales’ true wilderness, Y Rhinogydd that of possessing, arguably, her roughest, most uncompromising terrain... but I reckon Y Carneddau is the premier mountain group in the land, all things considered. Its summits also play host to Wales’ – if not the UK’s (?) – most extremely sited Bronze Age cemetery. It is a potent combination, providing all the more reason for the megalithically-minded traveller to pay a visit, in search of that psychological ‘essence’ which prompted our ancestors to intern their VIP dead in such places. If it is indeed retained somewhere in the modern psyche, where better to unlock the mind?

Perhaps it is no coincidence that, like Pumlumon, Wales’ other – and to my mind finest – great upland Bronze Age cemetery, Y Carneddau does not advertise its attributes to the passer by.... the soaring crags, deep rocky cwms, isolated mountain tarns – even Yr Elen, the crown jewel – are all cradled within, hidden from the prying eyes of the casual tourist. Yeah, one has to actually walk the great whaleback ridges to discover what lies between. Consequently it is the brash Glyderau, the incomparable bravado of Tryfan to the fore, and Snowdon (Itself) which grab the attention and the plaudits, Y Carneddau remaining a mysterious, secret land, an unknown quantity to all but those who don the boots. The ‘lost world’ aura is all too often accentuated by the mist which rolls, unhindered, across the high, domed tops. At times like these it is advisable to keep well away... for route finding becomes a very serious business indeed.

So, what of the ancient cairns which crown a significant number of the Carneddau’s high summits? Arguably the finest, albeit restored following excavation, is that upon Drosgl to the north. However the monument which stands upon the brutal, windswept, 3,196ft summit of Foel Grach is perhaps not only the hardest to reach, but also that which – for me – best embodies the primeval ‘essence’ alluded to earlier, that which maybe invokes the instinctive ‘intuition’ signifying that here is the perfect location to perhaps enter an altered state of consciousness, to use parts of the brain not normally utilised in order to attempt to perceive something out of the ordinary. Whether this is due to shortness of breath, reduced oxygen levels, sheer fatigue, autosuggestion.... wishful thinking, even... I cannot say? What I can say is that these places affect me. Deeply.

Although approaching something like 2m in height, the great Foel Grach cairn does not dominate its surroundings like other such monuments. The scale of the latter is perhaps too great, the eye drawn across the boulder-strewn summit plateau to the striking Yr Elen across Cwm Caseg to the west.... and towards the Menai Straits, sparkling beyond the be-cairned northern ridge of Y Carneddau to the approx north-east. To the east, the cliff line of Craig y Dulyn conceals a pair of reservoirs at its foot, two of the darkest, most secretive pools of water in all Wales, the valley of the Afon Conwy and the Great Orme crowning the skyline. To the north-west there is an uninterrupted view towards an ancient settlement sited below Gryn Wigau.... the former inhabitants perhaps the people who erected this monument.... although, admittedly, there is another such settlement below to the east at Pant-y-Griafolen? Finally, Carnedd Llewleyn, summit peak of Y Carneddau rises to the south bearing the highest surviving monument in Wales. Jeez, this is some spot. If insight can be forthcoming, ‘tis the place alright. Whether the individual can make any sense of what he feels today... is another matter entirely.

Perhaps the most straightforward route to visit the Foel Grach cairn is to start from the small car park north of Llyn Eigiau and follow Cefn Tal-llyn-Eigiau to the col between the peak and Carnedd Llewelyn. A well graded, green track affords a good beginning, the traveller gaining the ridge by way of an obscure path just beyond a ladder stile. Alternatively stick with the green track all the way to Melynllyn, ascending direct to the summit to the right of the lake, although admittedly very steeply. I took the latter option this time, carrying on to Carnedd Llewleyn and returning via Cefn Tal-llyn-Eigiau. It is also possible to descend from Carnedd Llewelyn – incidentally via Tristan’s Cairn – to Pen-yr-Helgi-Du and Pen Llithrig-y-Wrach (the latter also crowned by a Bronze Age cairn), so completing the high level circuit of Cwm Eigiau. However at some 11 miles, this is a serious walk indeed. Check the map... there are other options, too.

Re-visited 21.12.11

Those familiar with this great site will know all about it, but two things struck me this morning as I waited alone for daybreak – why the junk and vandalism and the mysterious ‘Owl Stick’?

A piece of broken, candle-wax encrusted vase at the base of the mound and plastic bottles and mud-hand prints and dawbings across the concrete lintel (the modern unsympathetic strenghtening) inside the chamber.

Who placed the ‘Owl Stick’ in the top of the mound?

This is one of my favourite sites, but have not yet ventured over to view it from the gorsedd stone. As the farmer was already inhis fields tending to his flock in the breaking light I chose to walk around the other side of the gorsedd, down the lane towards his farm and got a great new perspective of the site.

Until next time.

With Eric in tow we arrived suited and booted and on time for the winter solstice sunrise, I know it’s tomorrow but i’m off work today so it will have to do.
Unfortunately the weather doesn’t give a damn what I want and the sunrise remained stubbornly veiled behind cloud. I bet the sun shone at Stonehenge.
Unable to prove or disprove any solar alignments, which are most likely to be casual and arguable rather than obvious and easily proved.
Oh well winter comes round every year, but I don’t.

Visited 21.12.11

I decided to spend the morning on Anglesey to revisit Bryn Celli Ddu & Bodowyr and make another attempt to get to Bryn yr Hen Bobl. I arrived before daybreak, overcast and damp. Like others before me I have tried to access Bryn yr Hen Bobl via Plas Newydd and failed and have been refused entry via the Plas Llanedwen driveway, but today I chose to drive further down the lane towards Moel-y-Don, past the entrance on right to Plas Coch holiday park and turned left down the approach lane to park at Llanedwen Parish Church. If you take a look at the OS map there is a ‘path’ (not a Public Footpath) marking the way from the church running parallel with the Straits towards Plas Newydd. Judging by the substantial gate pillars and steps/stone stiles this is quite possibly the route taken for Sunday services by residents of both Plas Newydd and Plas Llanedwen in days gone by. You can also pick out this route on Googlemaps.

This discovery was the highpoint of my day. Nobody but the sheep for company, no stealth required and polite ‘please close gate’ signs on the gates leading straight to the monument! There is a gate out of the grave yard at the rear of the church with another on the rise in the distance. Following the line of the hedge, through the distant gate you arrive low down in the field where Bryn yr Hen Bobl is sited. Tucked into the field perimeter I followed it about 250yds and there it was at the top of the field to my left.

The tree line on the right obscures the magnificent views of Snowdonia which were obviously one of the main reasons for its position. Looking up the field towards the mound you can appreciate its once grand appearance only spoilt today by a picket fence built around its one visible entrance.

This probably is private land, so just in case the ‘man with gun’ should appear or be watching me from afar today I went undercover of ‘birdwatcher’ (book & bins around my neck). This was also because when previously refused entry via Plas Llanedwen last year I was asked if I was one of ‘those metal detectorists?’. Today it was smug smiles, coffee and home for tea – job done!

There’s an old saying, isn’t there? That first impressions count for everything.... however I’m not so sure. Perhaps we shouldn’t be so hasty in making final judgements, take a moment or two to appreciate what may well not be readily apparent? Consider The Nantlle Ridge... a linear series of grassy summits set to the south-west of – and very much in the shadow of – the Snowdon Massif, rising over 1,000ft above. Hmm, it would appear at first glance that Nature has allocated very much a supporting role to these modest hills. However this is strictly not the case, connoisseurs of the Snowdonian landscape regularly citing The Nantlle Ridge as second only to the (frankly awesome) Crib Goch arete. What’s more, and of great interest to armchair pre-historians and ‘hands on’ stoneheads alike, is the series of Bronze Age cairns located at the ridge’s extremities..... something, of course, that the aforementioned Snowdon no longer possesses. Assuming it ever did, of course. Yeah, let’s hear it for the underdog!

The Nantlle Ridge rises to a respectable – although by no means excessive – 2,408ft at Craig Cwm Silyn, the summit crowned by the remains of one of the Bronze Age cairns alluded to above.... there is another upon Garnedd-Goch to the south-west. Paradoxically, however, it is the lowest summit (Y Garn [’The Cairn’], 2,077ft) at the extreme north-eastern apex which was chosen as the site for two of Central Snowdonia’s most substantial (remaining) funerary cairns. Clearly placement was everything for the locals, the reasons lost in the mists of time, vapours which are not exactly infrequent nowadays in a far more literal sense. Maybe it was a tad warmer then, venturing up into the hills not such an extreme undertaking in those days? Perhaps. One thing is certain, however... Nature sure hasn’t lost its wonder, its ability to take the human psyche to another level. Sheer theatre, created upon the biggest stage of all.

Significantly the true summit of Y Garn (or Carn Mynydd Drws-y-Coed, if you prefer), with exquisite views across Drws-y-Coed to Mynydd Mawr and down to Llyn-y-Dywarchen (the lake incidentally cited in Welsh folklore as once possessing a magical ‘floating island’ – unfortunately the existing island is very much linked to terra-firma)... amongst other sweeping, mesmeric vistas... was, somehow, not deemed suitable, nowadays surmounted by nothing more than a rather small, modern cairn. ‘Jeez.... what did it take to satisfy these people?’, this traveller is probably entitled to ponder as he stands, fair foaming at the mouth at the beauty of this landscape? Clearly there were other, more important criteria to be taken into consideration, the pair of ancient cairns instead situated a little to the south, duly denied the views. But also denying a skyline profile to those down below. Hmm... Perhaps that was the whole point? Bronze Age elitism superseding Neolithic all-inclusion?

So, the overwhelming presence of Yr Wyddfa Fawr (Snowdon) to the the north-east excepted, focus for visitors to the Y Garn cairns – then, as now – is firmly to the south.... The Nantlle Ridge itself. It is more than enough, the jagged crags of Mynydd Drws-y-Coed providing a deceptively difficult passage to the graceful arc and domed summit of Trum-y-Ddysgl rising beyond. Both Bronze Age cairns are large, albeit hollowed out to form the unforgivable – but completely predictable – ‘storm shelter’. But why here? Follow the ridge to the south and I’m pretty sure all will become clear..... it would appear (to me, at least) that they were simply MEANT to be viewed from the castellated rock formations of Mynydd Drws-y-Coed, the latter a natural proto-temple, perhaps? The moment is worth the effort....risk, even... but please take great care, particularly if the rock is wet. Do not underestimate the danger and ensure every footfall is sure. I carry on to Trum-y-Ddysgl for lunch and gaze across to the be-cairned Moel Hebog, Craig Cwm-Silyn and Mynydd Mawr, amongst other great landscape features. As is often the case when upon such terrain, I feel completely humbled, privileged to be here – insignificant even – yet 100ft tall at the same time! Perhaps this is a predictable reaction to what is often felt to be ‘soulless’ modern living? Or perhaps this is the way it always was? The way it was simply meant to be. I decide to return the way I came, retrospective views highlighting an immense wall of grey vapour tracking my progress. The cloud finally engulfs me as I stand upon the ancient cairns once more, a claustrophobic, ethereal world where previously the boundaries stretched to infinity. Well, at least as far as the eye could see. The mind races, but the compass bearing is true and Llyn y Gader emerges reassuringly from the gloom, below to the east.

Y Garn and its cairns are most directly reached by taking the Nantlle road from Rhyd Ddu... park roadside a little before Drws-y-Coed Uchaf farm and take the obvious, signed footpath leading up the mountainside to its left. This is very steep, but without technical difficulty. Persevere and the monuments will eventually be found beyond a transverse drystone wall, crossed by a ladder stile. If you decide to carry onto Trum-y-Ddysgl, there is an option to descend to the south and swing round back to Rhyd Ddu through forestry, via Bwlch-y-Ddwy-elor. Or, of course, if you have a car waiting at the other end, to walk the whole ridge and descend to Cwm Silyn. Needless to say a double traverse is a very serious undertaking and best left to the exceedingly fit, young or mad.

I visited this site for the first time last weekend, driving back from Cheshire I decided to make a detour as I’ve wanted to visit the Rollrights for years and this time the time was right.

I found this to be a truly amazing place, walking around the circle, spending time looking out across the landscape. I love the perspective over to The Whispering Knights and while at their looking back to The Rollright Stones, if it wasn’t for the hedges the view across to The King Stone would have made the sites seem completely connected, which of course they are.

For me the proximity of the road didn’t matter, maybe it’s down to so many visits to The nine stones of Winterborne Abbas with the heavy passing traffic, but the traffic here at the Rollright Stones wasn’t so distracting. The lay by does make it very early for folk to stop off for a visit though, including napping truck drivers, perhaps re-charging their weary batteries in more ways than they are aware. I usually enjoy a bit of a track to a site, a welcome opportunity to detach from the trappings of the everyday modern life into an ancient landscape, however on this occasion my excitement at being there took over and I took a good long walk around and about the whole area making up for the pilgrimage of finding the place by foot that I would have enjoyed..

I recommend making some time to visit this pace, spend a while there, allow yourself to slow down and let the place unfold.

Just a quick nip out to my nearest hill fort on a sunny winter Sunday afternoon.
A lesser known Maiden Castle on the Sandstone trail, it was cold and windy and with both dogs pulling me all over the show it was not a mellow visit. But it’s always a worthwhile visit when the fort is named after you, or you after it or both from the same Bee keeping tradition. (so i’m told)
A short time ago an experiment was performed, on the line of the Clwydian hill forts fires were set, to test intervisibility, they said the fires may have been visible from here at Maiden castle, and I can well beleive it, the view west into Wales is extensive to say the least.
The view North to Beeston crag and its Iron age fortifications is blocked by more sandstone crags, the information board proclaiming Maiden castle as an historic monument is either overgrown or gone.
Plenty of people up here , even at sundown in the winter, S’goood.

Visited 11.12.11

As luck would have it we stumbled upon St Mary’s Church within minutes of entering Welshpool – which was just as well as the light was starting to fade.

The gate at the bottom of the steps was padlocked so I walked around to the other side of the churchyard and found this gate to be open.

The stone is easy to spot being right in front of the church entrance. It was smaller than I was expecting – only about 1 metre x 1 metre.

After reading the folklore associated with the stone I jumped on top, spun around 3 times and made a wish. No, I’m not going to tell you or it won’t come true!

Easy stone to access and worth a quick look when visiting Welshpool.

‘Visited’ 11.12.11

Directions: close to the A5 – just south of the village of Cerrigydrudion.

There are two possible candidates for this Barrow.
It is either the low ploughed down mound in the middle of the field or the large gorse covered mound a little further to the east.
I can’t be sure.

COFLEIN has no site description – so no help there!

Visited 11.12.11

Directions: close to a minor road off the A5 – south east of the village of Cerrigydrudion.
Pretty much opposite Pen-Y-Gaer Farm.

The minor road running past the farm is very narrow with nowhere to park. Karen sat in the car at the farm entrance and I promised to be quick as she was blocking the road.

The ramparts of the Hillfort can be easily seen from the road. I of course wanted a closer look so I hopped over the barbed wire fence, squelched across the muddy field and headed uphill.

I only had time to explore the southern section of the Hillfort and the single ditch/rampart was in pretty good condition. The rampart still stood in places 3 metres high from the bottom of the ditch and 1 metre high from the inside of the Hillfort. Part of the rampart is covered in the dreaded gorse.

The weather was misty with drizzle in the air. On a sunny day I am sure the views would be marvellous.

Well worth a visit although it would probably be best if you asked permission first at the farm as there is no public right of way.

COFLEIN has this to say:
‘Caer Caradog is a later prehistoric Hillfort crowning an isolated mountain spur overlooking the Cerrigydrudion valley basin. The Hillfort is an irregular oval enclosure defined by a massive rampart and ditch with a counterscarp bank beyond. The rampart still rises some 6 metres above the base of the ditch. Excavation showed it to be a simple dump construction. There is an entrance to the east facing along the saddle connecting the spur to the main massif of Y Drum. The enclosure is about 166m east-west with an area of 1.7ha. Excavations failed to identify any structures apart from the ramparts: notably no trace of a gate was recorded. This gave rise to doubts about the identification of the Caer as a Hillfort as such. However, it is possible that any features present were missed’.

18/12/2011 – Car park at NJ 4856 0508. Sign posted circular walk. Robbed burial cairn with modern cairn on top of it. Go on a clear day as the views are fantastic.

Although by no means an expert in such matters, I’d nonetheless be very surprised if the high level route crossing the main ridge of Y Berwyn at Bwlch Maen Gwynedd hasn’t been in use for millennia... travellers braving such a hostile landscape perhaps reassured by the presence of ancestors interred within numerous round cairns upon the surrounding peaks. Possibly even pausing to give thanks for safe passage at the wondrous Moel ty Uchaf before the final descent to the Dee valley? Or vice versa. Now whether the eastern section of the route was through Cwm Maen Gwynedd itself, or following the crest of the high eastern ridge of Y Berwyn (rising above it to the north) is perhaps a moot point. Needless to say there are many precedents for such high routes which may well have been far more practical back in days of yore.

Mynydd Tawr – the Hill of the Bull – is very nearly the most eastern 2,000ft summit of Y Berwyn (Moel Fferna actually just shades that distinction) and, as such, does not feature on many walking itineraries.... least of all mine for the past 20-odd years. However it has the added attraction (for Stoneheads, that is) of a quite substantial Bronze Age cairn crowning its 2,234ft summit. So guess I had to pay a visit sooner or later.

The ‘phone box at Tyn-y-fford – minus ‘phone, as I recall – to the south of the mountain (at SJ118309 where a car can be carefully parked) is a good starting point for an ascent, locals passing in well used land rovers proving to be a lot more friendly than the dogs in the nearby farm... the latter somewhat noisy blighters, it has to be said. Anyway, follow the dead end road uphill, beyond Maes farm, until a gate gives signed access to a field, forestry visible to the north encompassing the eastern flank of the mountain. The traveller can either follow a byway ascending diagonally to the left, or simply put the head down and climb VERY steeply beside the treeline, directly to the summit. Yeah, brains or brawn. I ‘choose’ brawn’ because I don’t read the map properly. Appropriate, perhaps? Incidentally one is inclined to wonder if the byway may have had an ancient origin?

Nourished by the excellent retrospective views, the summit is attained, the cairn proving to be a slight disappointment in comparison with the Pumlumon monuments visited a few days earlier. At approx 1m in height and containing a large ‘storm shelter’/ sheep shelter / shooting shelter (dunno which, although this is grouse country) the cairn is not the finest of monuments, but nevertheless still covers a fair old area. The views – northwards toward the Clwydian Hills, southwards to the beautiful Tanat valley and the rolling hills of Mid Wales and, in particular, westwards along the twisting ridge beyond Foel Wen and Tomle to the main summits of Y Berwyn – are more than worth the asking price of the ascent in their own right.

I head to the west, then, pausing at the excellent crags of Cerrig Geneugiaid for a while to savour the unbridled wildness of the landscape. Although a fenceline guides the way (handy if caught in mist) the going is tough, thanks to very poor drainage and trademark Berwyn heather. Foel Wen is supposed to possess a ‘mound’ of unknown origin (not sure it now does, to be fair), 2,431ft Tomle a small quartzite summit cairn and at least one, additional ‘mound’. Whether these are clearance or not I guess only excavation may determine. Must admit that the grassed-over example near the quartzite cairn looks too substantial to these eyes, but perhaps that’s wishful thinking in light of the ancient route hypothesis. What is certain, however, is another large, round cairn on the shoulder of Cadair Berwyn beyond the bwlch. Not to mention another crowning Cadair Bronwen to the north-west..... and several more a’top Cadair Berwyn and Moel Sych, the flanks of which dominate the whole western scene. The standing stone marking the path across the bwlch is apparently a boundary stone. But of Bronze Age origin?

So there you are... the walk arguably raises a lot more questions than it provides answers. But it is nonetheless an integral piece of the Bronze Age jigsaw of Y Berwyn. And it’s also bloody enjoyable at whatever cerebral level you care to mention. Late evening sun illuminates the Mynydd Tawr cairn as I squeeze every last moment from time before the final descent. Too late to find a camp-site for the night, I settle for the Arans’ Bwlch y Groes as the night’s stop-over ... with my beady, cormorant eye upon a possible visit to Craig-yr-Aderyn tomorrow.

Visited 11.12.11

Apart from anything else I wanted to visit this site as I have read a fair bit about Owain Glyndwr and wanted to visit the place where he lived and was proclaimed Prince of Wales in 1400 (the English burnt his house down in 1403)
What a lovely location to live.

Obviously, whilst I was there it would have been neglect of me not to go searching for the cup marked stone!

The directions given by Postman are spot on.

The stone is easy enough to spot right next to the ‘spiky’ grass – near a couple of other stones.

I think I managed to spot 15 cup marks – but I could be wrong!

Visited 11.12.11.

The cross can be found in the graveyard to the right of the church entrance.

I am far from being an expert on prehistoric rock art but I have to say that the cup marks on this stone are far from convincing. Perhaps they are just very worn – a bit like the cross!

Still, the graveyard is worth checking out. The path leading through the graveyard is made up of old headstones! Most seem to be from the 1700s – never seen a path like that before!

The church was all locked up so I wasn’t able to have a look inside.

Visited 11.12.11

The stone can be found inserted into the church porch entrance on the left.

The stone is approximately 1.8 metres high and certainly looks out of place amid the more ‘normal’ stone work.

Directly in front of the stone is the head stone of Hugh Thomas 1734.

As an aside, when in Corwen don’t miss the opportunity so see the fantastic statue of Owain Gyndwr on the main road outside the newsagent. It really is impressive.

Visited 9.12.11

This was my last site of the day and the light was fading fast. It was so dull in fact that I was in two minds about attempting to find the stone. In the end I got there just before it became completely dark.

Parking opposite the farm drive in a small lay by I jumped over the gate and headed down the track. The stone was a lot easier to find than I was expecting. As you walk down the farm drive you soon come to a passing place on your left (5 minute walk).
The standing stone is easily seen from here on your left.

The ground towards the stone is very boggy and I was lucky that I had my wellies on!
The stone itself is about 1.5 metres high and leaning to the south west. It is covered in lichen.
Right next to the ‘main’ stone is a smaller version – about a third of the size.
I have no idea if this is prehistoric and connected with Maen Llywd or just a random stone which happens to be here?

By the time I got back to the car it was black. I am glad I didn’t get here 10 minutes later!

Worth a quick look when in the area.