Latest Fieldnotes

The first image is from the official web site relating to the dig and has been taken from an oblique angle distorting the image and requiring the engraver to have had 2m long arms to get near the motifs .The second is mine taken directly above the motifs .Why were no pics taken from the obvious position and shown on the web site .?

25 August 2010

Devonshaw is one of a string of hillforts planted along the western edge of the Upper Clydesdale Hills. Arbory, Kirkton, Bodbury are others within a few miles. I can see my work’s cut out for the next couple of weeks...

There is a draw-in at the side of the A702 on the Northbound side of the road. Look for the gap in the crash barriers and draw in. If you miss it drive on, turn around a mile ahead and come back. This road is a death trap. There’s a bit of nfty traffic dodging to avoid getting splattered by the stream of artics and juggernauts and a great opportunity for a barbed wire wedgey getting over the fence and onto the hill. The fort is then a ten minute scramble up the steep side of Devonshaw Hill.
Gradually the sound of the traffic disappeared as I climbed higher. On a terrace high above the road I paused for a breather and leaned back against an outcrop of rock. My nostrils were hit by the most hideous smell, when I checked behind the rock there was a half eaten, half decomposed sheep whose partial evisceration was spread across the green, green grass in a scene reminiscent of The Killing Fields meets Shaun the Sheep. My movement set up an immense cloud of blowfly and bluebottles from the carcass and I stumbled away across the maggot crawling grass trying to retain my dinner.
Like most sites in South Lanarkshire, Tinto is always somewhere over your shoulder and she looks onto Devonshaw Fort with a real massiveness. The fort itself is a delight, perched daintily like a fifty pence coin on a western spur halfway up Devonshaw Hill. The hut circles in the interior are clearly visible and the ramparts still very intact. The steep inner rampart is a real challenge to get up.
There are some big boulders which occupy the end spur of the outer rampart which look rather interesting. I’d often seen them when driving up the A702 and noted their monolith-like appearance. Frost shattered and earth fast, they are a group of sizeable stones which mark one side of an approach to the South entrance. On the hill above the fort there is an unremarkable grassed over cairn with a superb outlook.
I stretched out on the high western rampart of the fort for a while watching the lowering sun strafe the valley below, picking out its greens and setting diamond reflections dancing on the waters of the Clyde. Tinto looked on and said nothing.

Panoramic views and atmospheric. Highly recommended.

Not much to look at this one, but it’s there, just a smallish heather covered bump in the landscape.
I was passing by anyway, so thought i’d log it.

Access is via a very rickety stile by the roadside 100 metres or so down the road from Toads Mouth rock at SK 25880 80545.

It’s only 100 metres or so from the road so if your passing anyway it’s worth a look, maybe.

Despite a slight feeling of ‘too-perfectness’ of one of those ‘show’ sites, you still can’t help feeling in awe of such a great monument. As others have said, Pentre Ifan does have great views from here, but the thing itself is the great view!

Apologies to the new age old guy, with the 2 ladies (one seemingly just come from a wedding – nice hat!), for the not-great view of myself in Bermuda shorts and almost day-glo t-shirt, straight from Newport beach. Not exactly TMA garb, I suspect, but at least I drew the line at flip-flops....

I was torn between feeling a bit sad for this small, but sturdy-looking dolmen, overwhelmed by the nearby bungalows, making it look like a puppy put out in the backyard, or admiring its determination to hold its ground and ignore its neighbours.

It’s a lovely, lovely dolmen, but it was hard to feel a sense of place, however much I tried to focus up towards Carn Ingli.

Boskednan circle, or Nine Maidens, is without doubt my favourite circle of all (and by extension my favourite site of all). It’s not a perfect or pristine circle, many of the stones lean alarmingly or have fallen. It’s not on a dramatic peak, or surrounded by a fairy ring of trees. Instead it sits on a bare moor, exposed to the elements and sticking its figures up at ‘em. We’ve been here in dreadful weather, rain, mist (never snow though) and it’s never less than brilliant. Today, under a cloudless cerulean sky, I think that there can’t be a more perfect place to be.

Time passes and we reluctantly drag ourselves away, for there’s still a way to go.

From the Castle, after a bit of bracken-exploration, we find a vague path heading northeast, which clears a bit as it finds a route between two hedges. Some lumps and bumps appear in the field on the south side of the path, telling us we’ve found Bosullow Trehyllys, one of the best preserved courtyard house settlements in the area. Much less visited than Chysauster or Carn Euny, this settlement has been dogged by restricted access and impenetrable vegetation, so we’ve never tried to visit before. But the barbed wire has rusted away and the little gate is open to us, so we go and have a mooch round. Thanks again to Chrisbird for pointing out that the site had been cleared. The vegetation is actually already pretty high again, but we easily found simple round-houses in the south-western field and the impressive courtyard houses in the field next door. We’re joined by a fellow enthusiast, who tells me this is his first visit to the site for over a decade.

This time we’re heading up to the nearby Chun Castle hillfort, which actually we rarely visit on our trips. Its circular walls are satisfyingly chunky and provide a wonderful 360-degree panorama, including the engine house at Ding Dong mine, which is such a ubiquitous landmark from much of the peninsula. But we don’t hang around here for long, as our main reason for heading this way is another site we haven’t visited previously.

Chun Quoit is another of the area’s “show sites”, but to see it ahead of you in its beautiful setting is still enough to cause a flutter of anticipation. Watch Croft, Penwith’s highest point, rises behind and the blues of sea and sky meet over to the north. The Quoit itself needs no introduction, so we’ll just sit and have a snack and enjoy the view for a little while.

We head east off the moor and, on reaching Boslow Stone, swing north along a little track. Still almost hidden, in a triangle of land next to the track is Portheras Common barrow. I have looked for it before but always been defeated, but Chrisbird’s photos from earlier in the year have given me fresh heart and sure enough, the barrow has been freed from the mess of undergrowth for the first time in years. This is a terrific little barrow, with a near-complete kerb and a central chamber/cist still boasting its capstone. Already the vegetation is growing back, brambles are trailing the barrow and patches of purple-ish campion sprout around the centre and the lovely Cornish foxgloves are doing their thing nearby as well. But it’s great to finally see this barrow, especially to see how well-preserved it is.

Tregeseal stone circle, or more properly the eastern circle, is the first stop-off today. Almost always deserted on our visits, today is no exception and we can sit undisturbed in the sunshine, breathing in sea air and generally chilling. I mess about in the bracken looking for the remnants of the western circle and g/f lets me get on with it – she has more sense. It’s only just gone 11 o’clock and it’s already shaping up to be scorcher, so sun-cream is liberally applied. I love this circle. If it wasn’t for one other (more of which later) it would be my favourite of all.

As Postman says, the gap in the hedge is easy to find, with a short walk over strewn stones until you circle ‘round to face the court and chamber. On such a beautiful day, and with it’s wide open vista, it really felt very impressive. That capstone really is a biggie, isn’t it.

Of all the Pembrokeshire sites I visited (including the obvious Pentre Ifan/Carreg Samson/Coetan Arthurs) on this trip, Garn Turne was my favourite.....despite nearly getting run over heading back through the hedge onto the (unbusy) road. Still, no pain no gain.

Although I did better than Carl (my namesake, actually) and managed to find Garnwnda, the scramble up towards it was too brutal-looking today. Merrick’s directions are pretty comprehensive, except to add that if coming from the church, head uphill and look out for the outcrop on the right. The capstone looks strikingly out of place, being a flat, rectangle seemingly thrown into the side of the cliff.

Some fine previously unrecorded finds from today .
first or last pic, depending on how you look at it is good example of bad light not showing up eight cup marks three of which have rings .The next pic is the same rock surface in decent light .

August 24th 2010
Went to Brodgar day before end of dig as though they have made lovely discoveries on last days much will be be going back under black plastic early on the day. Past Bridgend went around the back of the Kokna-Cumming mound to come upon the Lesser Wall of Brodgar from behind by a gentler slope. Glad they have realised that this is a late feature as otherwise what would one make of the Brodgar standing stone pair straddling its view eastwards and the tomb outside its supposed remit. To me the point of it is to face the Staneyhill Tomb – I forget what they call it in political science but it is like gardeners “borrowing a view” by bringing a further vista into the visitor’s eyeline. What does this mean for the hypothesis that the Greater Wall of Brodgar was meant to form a northern boundary to the whole Ness assemblage ? It doesn’t seem to have any similar alignment [and perhaps too thick to find a statistically valid one anyhow] but is it equally late, performing a non-liminal function yet to be identified. At the bottom of the Lesser Wall’s southern side there is now a pavement just under the level of the Wall base by the remains of what is to my eye another wall at a slight angle to the later Wall. Near the bottom of the Wall it looks to me as if there are what is left of two cruder walls parallel to one another over and at right angles to my putative earlier wall, and hence the pavement below. To my dismay the area of trench behind the Wall has still not been dug below the level of its top. Probably a “health and safety” thing. Here there are two arcs of collapsed wall, perhaps an inner and outer section. Not that this necessarily means one or both had not been straight when still standing. Oh, I can barely wait for their investigation. And then maybe sometime they can go down to the Wall base here to see if the Lesser Wall might be part of some other structure yet.
On to the main Ness of Brodgar site a bit of height not only gains you perspective but also frees you of photographing beige stone against beige stone and having to decipher it later ! First up is the new to this season next-to-roadside observation platform with a long ramp for wheelchair access. Then there are the large spoil heaps by the northern and western sides, as long as you don’t mind the shifting soil underfoot in places. The space between Lochview and the dig is too smaa for anything but a photographic tower for the bosses, so you can’t use that. It amazes me that at first glance it all looks practically the same as last time. Up on the platform on this side of the site the bulk is taken up by Structure 10 on your left with its, ahem, standing stone. No work is ongoing in the ‘cathedral’ now. In front of the platform’s near end Structure 8 is divine. Along the western edge are what I see as three sub-square interior cells but on plan I see are duplicated on the opposite side, forming two rectangular and one long oval sub-divisions of the whole. This is basically how it has looked since last year. But on my third visit of the season exterior to the northern wall at the trenches edge are (I think) three small strucures that make you think of mini-roundhouses. All this mixing of linear and circular or sub-circular forms throughout the site strike me as less a striving for a practical form [and/or effective ritual space] and more the search for an artistic vision, squaring the circle to put the art into architecture. Very nice, whatever. Next is the small Structure 7, pinned between 8 and the Structure 1+9 combo.
The latter can be seen from the first spoil heap. Up here the first thing you spot is a large circular wall arc [?9 – the structure plan on Orkneyjar is from the season’s start] in front of which work has been going on in a linear structure apparently leading up and terminating before it with what I take to be either a wide facade (pehaps fronting a courtyard entrance) or two flanking ?guard-cells. Looking left from this by the edge of the trench is a short length of low parallel orthostats that catch my eye but have been left behind for now.
From the top of the next spoil heap is a clear view of Structure 1, a large structure (oval or semi figure-of-eight) with rectangular niches or cells scattered along the interior edge. These are formed by the drystane walling (but multi-coloured) and tall thin orthostats. Near the trench edge to the right a double wall or pair of walls with pavement between them is nicely exposed. At the far end of the mound I look south to Structure 12, a large clean-looking oval with a couple of long cells. On my previous visit I only noticed the one nearest the spoil heap after I got back from an image taken near Lochview. That nearest the road looked as if someone had taken the Great Wall of Brodgar and removed the flesh to leave a rectangular skin.
The space between 12 and 10, or in 10, has three or four standing stones. I think they are roughly in a square. It is remarkable how many odd stones are scattered about the site, different in colour (red maks a change from beige) or shape (proper looking standing stones or blocky forms mostly). Not too much rhyme or reason for the most part, so I am thinking this is just a monumental version of picking up a pebble on a beach and taking it home.
All the above is only how I have this eclectic site in my mind’s eye. Carefully as they excavate still there are different stages in any season’s dig, structure’s co-mingle and turn out to be part of other’s. During an extended period of experimentation you can’t even sort features out by materials used. And any single structure can be such a glorious mix of drystane walls, slabs, orthostats and standing stones, along with what I might call exhibition pieces.
By the time I am done with all three cameras there are still twenty minutes until the next tour and I give a moment’s thought to tagging along for the display of new finds at its end. You are never sure what will be displayed or whether you will be able to take piccies, the latter depends on the group more than the presenter.

Unlike Stu, luckily i managed to find this first time, ably guided by my gps and a 10 figure GR, i admit though, i almost missed it, went back for another look, as you do and found it.
The site is quite overgrown now but a dozen or so stones are still easily seen, especially the ones to the North East, one of which i measured at 97 centimetres in length.

The best preserved part of the ringcairn is to the North East with the bank easily visible, though you can trace it’s circumference all round, the entrance to the south is well defined.

To the North Higgor Tor looms large maybe a kilometre away, whilst Over Owler stands proud to the West.
I was amazed how close to the brook this site is, no more than a metre or two, this lead me to think i was looking in the wrong area as i’ve never encountered a site so close to water before.

This is an amazing little site well off the path though not to much of a struggle to get to if you start off at Over Owler where you’ll need to head down hill towards the brook.
I was very impressed with the size of the stones and i could easily be convinced this was a stone circle and not a ringcairn at all.

Go have a look, you’ll be impressed, though i will say this one is bordering on “anorak” territory.

The final row of the day climbs Burford Down, towards a visible terminal cairn circle at the high point of the hill. This last site pulls my tired legs onwards. As the row climbs the hill, I turn around for a last look towards Stalldown behind, what a wonderful landscape this is.

The terminal cairn-circle isn’t a match for the Dancers. There is a hollowed mound in its centre and many of the stones are missing or fallen, but this is still a grand enough way to finish the row.

As I reach the bottom of the hill, I’m into the best-preserved settlement of the day, a selection of variously sized roundhouses and larger enclosures. But I don’t stop for long as there’s still one more hill to climb and a stone row to follow.

After another of the Blatchford Bottom settlements, this one with a suspicious bullock keeping a wary eye on me, I start to climb again, this time up to Stalldown. As I reach the crest, the tips of the northernmost upright stones of the row come into view. This is the tallest of Dartmoor’s stone rows and the four uprights at the northern end are the tallest stones in the row. They are all about 2-2.5 metres tall and very shapely, leaning in slightly different directions, which makes for a very photogenic site. There are a couple more large stones lying fallen to the north, which may well have been part of the row – the northernmost is a large slab. What a lovely setting of stones this is, who could ask for more?

Following the row roughly south as it heads off the top of the hill, the stones become markedly smaller after those first few, and there is the additional treat of a small cairn- or kerb-circle adjacent to the row. Towards the south end of the row is a recumbent slab, which would have been much taller than its neighbours if erected and the final upright is a rounded, boulderish stone – it may be that the row continued beyond this point, but no uprights remain. Plymouth Sound emerges from the gloom to the southwest to show I’m heading in the right direction.

And here it is! The uprights of the cairn circle come into view – empty, miles from anywhere, this is a real treat of a circle. Some of the stones lean alarmingly, the ground is wet and muddy around the stones, but I’m grinning from ear to ear. Without doubt worth the effort of the long walk, the circle is a gem that I doubt has many visitors, except the cows that graze a little way off and pay me no attention at all. Coming to places like this makes the heart sing, makes me feel glad to be alive and all the transitory worries of life seem so far behind. After a good while spent circling the site, then sitting in the ring (devoid of much sign of a cairn, by the way) I am reluctantly reminded of the long walk back to Ivybridge and the further delights still to be had on the way and head off south. The stones hang crooked on the skyline behind me for a moment, before disappearing back into their timeless solitude. I hope to come back here again one day, for this is a wonderful circle.

I’ve joined the row less than a quarter of the way along its length from its southern terminus – it continues much further north, all the way up to Green Hill, making it the longest row on Dartmoor by some way. The stones of the row are miniscule to say the least, but there are a few notable individuals, such as a weirdly eroded one that stands more than twice as high as its neighbours, and a lovely row of three differently marked quartz stones next to a small brook that the row crosses. The stones get gradually bigger as they head south, where they disappear over the brow of the hill. By this point I am buzzing with anticipation as I have passed the furthest point out of my walk and am nearly at my main objective, tantalisingly close just over the ridge.

The cairn is large but ruinous, having been heavily dug into. It lies slightly to the west and uphill from the row, from where it commands good views over the Erme Valley and southwards towards the Dancers.

There are two decent cairns on Piles Hill and one less certain one. The southern cairn is an unusual bell cairn, with a definite raised perimeter of approximately 30m diameter surrounding it. The central mound is very low however and is exceeded by that of the smaller northern cairn. The less-certain cairn lies a few metres further to the north-east and is a low green mound with no visible structural stones. Sharp Tor cairn, with typical walker-excrescence, is an obvious monument on the skyline to the NNW from here.

When I approach the Longstone, a wild pony is having an enjoyable backside-scratch up against it. It think my arrival must have been a disappointment! This re-erected stone is over 2 metres high and is a big old lump, standing next to a much more modern boundary marker. From here there are extensive views across the moors.

Anyway, I have found my first Dartmoor cairn circle and from here I can find the start of my first row. It heads roughly north, consisting of small (a foot or so tall) stones and crosses over a mile of moorland to a terminus on Piles Hill. On its route it passes the sandcastle-esque Butterdon Hill (north) cairn, which has gained its unusual look by excavation followed by a covering of turf. The direction of the row changes slightly north of this cairn, possibly suggesting that it was erected in more than one phase.

As the row starts to head up towards Piles Hill a taller and more modern boundary marker creeps in amongst the lower stones of the row. Further north Sharp Tor and Three Barrows are now in view, more hills topped with bronze age cairns. As the row approaches Hobajons Cross it still consists of very low stones, and the cross itself is merely a taller upright that has been christianised by the incision of a small cross near its top. It is possible that this stone was once the terminus of the row (see Jeremy Butler’s “Dartmoor Atlas of Antiquities”). From here most of the stones are missing as the line of the row climbs Piles Hill to its leaning terminal stone (shown as “recumbent” on the OS).