Latest Fieldnotes

Well.......... I eventually mentioned to get to this excellent site, albeit in a somewhat, er, roundabout way...... and was not disappointed.

I arrive at the tiny, model settlement of Burnbanks, at the eastern end of Haweswater, in pouring rain – as per usual – taking the stony bridleway, which climbs above and along the northern shore of the reservoir. A mini range of craggy hills rise above, but I’m put off the direct approach to Four Stones Hill by the waist-high fern cover (seriously, just try walking through it, particularly with concealed brambles to catch the unwary), so carry on to take a look at the roaring ‘The Forces’ waterfalls. Impressive in their raw, unbridled power in spate. A footpath climbs the left hand (west) bank to arrive at a footbridge over the stream and it’s here the fun begins. Hmm.

The mist has come right down so I a take a compass bearing on Four Stones Hill on my map and .... doesn’t seem quite right, so have another go. Anyway, climb as indicated and, breaking free of cloud, find myself upon Low Kop....... damn, but while I’m here may as well have a wander to take in this magnificent Lakeland scenery.Well, it’d be rude not to. Upon returning, I head for Four Stones Hill and am duly engulfed in cloud once again. Suddenly the vapour peels away and there are the two stones below to the south, the position highlighted by the tiny tarn, the cairn also visible. Two further fallen stones lie a little way to the west of the uprights, down the broad, green track.

Of course, the whole vista is now dominated by the reservoir, a modern intrusion into the scene altering the whole landscape context of the monument. But then again none can deny that it does look bloody magnificent as a backdrop. Much rather this than some power station. Awesome, in fact. The ground around the stones is seriously waterlogged, although the pool between the upright stones is, judging by previous photo posts, a permanent fixture.

My compass says the reservoir lies to the north (!!) so duly goes in the bin upon getting back to the campsite. Luckily it didn’t stop me reaching these fantastic stones set in glorious scenery.

Chisbury is a small pear shaped hillfort above the hamlet of Chisbury. It has bivallate & trivallate defences which are mostly wooded over but the northern sides defences are easily visible. Within the northern side of the site is Chisbury manor and farm and on the western end is the 13th century Chisbury chapel, which has a nice reproduction of a 16th century map of the site on the wall inside.

Not marked at all on my Landranger map but thankfully down as a cairn on Coflein and presumably the bigger map.
On the B5106 turn west in Tal y bont, take the only left turn off that nightmarishly steep lane and continue all the way to end of the road at the reservoir.
Moel Eilio (546m) stands above the lake and half way up the mountain on a plateau is this “cairn”, as close to the mountain as it can be without being too steep.
I came across this neat sounding description on Coflein whilst broad sweeping the blue dots just to see whats been missed...
Remains of a probable Bronze age cairn situated in a prominent position on a terrace on the NE-facing slopes of Moel Eilio, overlooking the Afon Porth-Llwyd valley. Circular in plan, measuring 13m diameter and up to c. 1.2m in height, over a slight ring bank following the rim of the platform and a partial stone circle offset from the centre. At least 10 orthostats are visible, several being of considerable length (up to 1.8m) – the cairn has partially collapsed or has been disturbed in the past
Calling this site a cairn is doing it a bit of a disservice, it’s a stone circle, the stones are quite large the ring obvious from a distance and marked by a wind oppressed tree.
The plateau on which it was built is quite large and of all the places it could have gone they chose to build it as close to the mountain as they could, from here you can see Pen y gear hillfort, Hafodygors wen and Waen Bryn-Gwenith collapsed dolmen and hill top stone.
Maybe it could be seen as the southern extreme of the Tal y Fan sites, including others such as the Cerrig Priffaid stone circle and Maen y Bard dolmen.
Further south about 500 metres is Moel Eilio standing stone, I found three likely contenders but none of which I’d stake my name on, but i’m not alone, not only does Coflein fail to describe the stone but they too failed to find it, I did find a well preserved enclosure of undetermined age though.

There is room for two cars to park at the side of the road near to the footpath sign, on the Trelawnyd to Llanasa road, east of the mound and caves.
The path through the trees is a nice walk especially in the autumn (funny how nine months of three other seasons dulls the mind to the memory of this most beautiful season) when you arrive at the foot of the mound turn left and go through the stile and down the hill about twenty yards , take care not to run, the cliff with the cave comes up quick.
I love a good cave, and now apparently so does my daughter, gee I wish I’d brought a torch she wanted to explore it more and so did I but it was a bit of an opportunistic visit so I was ill equiped, next time maybe (how many times have I said that). we did see two sheltering butterflys hanging from the cave roof they were a velvety dark purle/brown in colour and quite lovely.
George Nash, doyen of Welsh dolmens says there was an actual burial chamber constructed inside the cave, unique in Wales. It was rectangular in shape three walls erected with the roof and back wall formed by the cave wall itself, though I didnt know precisely where in the cave I was supposed to be looking but I still didnt see owt that looked manmade.
Finds found at time of excavation include a Graig Lwyd polised axe, a discoidal polished flint knife and a jet slider or necklace, allegedly sold by a worker to a tourist.

A short but steep-ish walk up the hill and we were there; then there was the obligatory crawl through the passage into PITCH BLACKNESS. We had a couple of torches but there was no real sense of the size of the place until we managed to get all 9 of us in there! There was lots of hilarity as we tried to work out what was there and I used my camera flash to illuminate the whole chamber a couple of times but this felt like the real thing.....discovering little side chambers and squeezing inside with just a pin prick of light from the torch was just incredible. Even better than Unstan which, with its helpful glass skylight at least allows you some perspective, Cuween leaves it up to you to find your bearings and create your own light. All 9 of us trying to talk at once, someone suddenly saying “oooh, there’s a wee chamber here, give me some light” and constantly bumping into one another, I am not sure we gave this tomb the respect it deserved but we had a fabulous time and we all agreed that Cuween was the unexpected highlight of the trip. Emerging back out into the most beautiful, bright sunshine with 9 sets of muddy knees and bums, Alan pointed out places where other excavations had taken place and we pin-pointed the cairn on Wideford Hill opposite.

I feel like a bit of an old grump saying this but Skara Brae left me feeling a bit disappointed. My favourite part of it was the re-constructed house, which has been built with care and attention and you are allowed to go in and have a wee play.....but the site itself? I think I have just read too many books and seen too many programmes about it but it just didn’t have the expected “wow” feeling. I know that Jane and Hob both suggested going after hours, which would probably have helped, but the officious little signs everywhere and the HS woman having a hissy fit because one of us dared to lean over a bit of grass (grass, for gawd’s sake!) to get a photo just felt really rubbish. I only hung around for a few minutes then headed back up to the visitor centre to read a bit of George Mackay Brown and have a cuppa. Isn’t that awful? This is such an amazing site that I should have been awestruck but I was more impressed with Barnhouse – it isn’t the site itself but the way it is managed and I think I probably expected too much. I have since told myself off for being such a grumpy bugger and wish I had been a bit more interested in it all but it just didn’t grab me on the day. Bah – and indeed – humbug.

So, what to say about the Ring of Brodgar? It completely and utterly blew me away. I know, I know, I have said that sooooooo many time before but I could happily have stayed at this site all day. Other sites, that I have longed to see and then made the pilgrimage to, have sometimes had an anti-climatic feeling about them, but not here. As I approached the circle, I decided to take a slight detour and instead of heading straight to the stones, I turned away and walked towards the striking mound of Salt Knowe. I think I was just too overcome by the enormity of Brodgar and felt like I needed to get a different perspective of the stones and I am so glad I did. The view from here was just fabulous; looking towards the circle, you could really see the lie of the land and how the stones sit in the landscape. I finally headed towards the stones, skirting around them and then decided I still needed a different view, so headed straight towards the Comet Stone so see how the site looked from here. Again, a completely different perspective and from here you can see the whole circle against the horizon whereas from Salt Knowe you see the site within the landscape. The stones themselves are mighty beasts and almost too numerous to comprehend. Bloody hell, it is just awe-inspiring – this is a site that I need to return to and (hopefully) soon.

49 stones (of 51 or 52). 41 m long, 9 m wide. Endstones both about 4 m high. There are about ten graves around the stone ship, excavations have shown urns containing burned bones (dated about 400-600CE). One of Swedens largest and most magnificent stone ships. The E6-road is close and there’s a constant rumble of cars.

Brochs are not my strong point, having only ever visited Carlway on Lewis previously, but Gurness was something to behold. The sheer amount of archaeological remains were stunning; evidence of buildings left, right and centre! I could see how the whole village worked, with the defensive structure (with possible kennels at the front doors!) surrounded by what appear to be domestic houses. Looking across the Eynhallow Sound to Rousay from Gurness, to the site of other brochs (and the location on Mid Howe) gave a real sense of perspective and we spent a good couple of hours mooching round the site. On the beach, Vicky even braved the elements and went for a paddle and we found what appeared to be cup marks in the natural stone shelves.

Lucky owners of Mr Cope’s great orange tome will need no introduction to this, Lakeland’s most southerly 600m mountain, or ‘fell’ as they call them in these parts. If ever there was a ‘mother hill’, Black Combe is surely the archetypal case within Britain. Not only does it possess Sunkenkirk (Swinside), one of these Isles’ finest stone circles, upon it’s north-eastern foothills, there are also the elegant Giant’s Grave monoliths and Lacra circles/rows to the south and three (count ‘em) now virtually obliterated stone circle sites to the west, upon the coast. Clearly Black Combe was the object of significant ritual focus, of that there can be no doubt.

It is fitting, therefore, that Black Combe appears a ‘friendly’ mountain, with a clear track leading from the church at Whicham northwards to the 1,968ft summit at a pretty steady gradient. Also, since it is located upon the coast, it is a fabulous viewpoint – famously celebrated by Wordsworth – the vista including not only coastline ‘luminaries’ such as Blackpool Tower and, er, Sellafield, but virtually the whole of Lakeland. On a clear day (ha!) the view apparently extends all the way to Wales and Scotland. Nearer to hand, the eastern flank of the mountain is enlivened by some fine cliff lines, no doubt the eponymous ‘black combes’. It is indeed a splendid mountain.

Needless to say friendly appearances can be deceptive, my visit to the mountain coinciding with winds gusting in excess of 50mph, with a band of driving rain and cloud sweeping in from the sea later on. Nevertheless, or perhaps because of the conditions, it was a wondrous experience to visit Black Combe. In a way I think I now know what those ancients were thinking when they venerated it ......

Like many others, I guess, I’d always found excuses NOT to go to Greycroft..... mostly since I imagined myself being like Winston in 1984, under constant surveillance from Big Brother and suddenly hearing that totalitarian voice bark out ‘stop right where you are!’ as I bunked the barbed-wire fence. Hmm, perhaps not, then. Coward.....

It’s therefore great to be able to confirm Fitz’s October 2007 experience that Greycroft is now officially ‘on limits’ (about time too and so gracious). It is also quite simply a fantastic stone circle facing out to sea, which in any other circumstances would have been top of the list many years ago.

Anyway on a Saturday teeming with rain – nowt else to do, so why not finally have a go? – I head for Seascale and take the southern approach road towards the ‘Works’, as my OS map somewhat ludicrously describes the power station. Looking for the footpath sign it’s nowhere to be seen, so I do a three point turn in front of the main gate, tailed by a Police car as I do so (obviously also with nowt else to do). Noting that this road is a clearway, I decide to park back down the road at the entrance to the bridleway leading to How Farm and walk back to the bridge. Here a stile is set unobtrusively below to the left. Cross this, head beyond the ruined mill and you’ll eventually come to another stile allowing access to the circle.

Despite being sandwiched between two very unsavoury things – golf course and power station – Greycroft nonetheless has a really great vibe today. The tree screen is working wonders with reducing the visual impact of the latter, the weather keeping most of the muppets away from the former.

Having just heard news that Sellafield is set to receive another nuclear power station in the not too distant future, I’d suggest now is the time to get yourself here and take a look at this beauty before the mutant cows take over!

Isn’t it great when you chance upon a site that you assume will be a minor deviation but ends up blowing you away? Well for me such a site was Sunbiggin Tarn stone circle last Wednesday.
Simple pleasures.......

After spending a good chunk of the day at the frankly wondrous Rayseat Pike Long Cairn, I find I’ve an hour and a half to spare before dark. Although not shown on the 1:25 map, a quick delve into my trusty TMA list reveals directions to the site (cheers Fitz). Oh go on. Why not, then?

The scenery roundabouts, here in the ‘no-man’s land’ between Lakeland and The Yorkshire Dales, is truly worthy of much more than a passing visit, a wild uncompromising landscape to lose yourself within – in a metaphorical as opposed to physical sense, you understand. Couldn’t be doing with the latter.

Climbing the small hill, the first impressions of the site were ‘hang on, there’s nothing here’, until the very diminutive stones, surrounding what appeared to be a cist, slowly materialised from the long grass. The sinking sun flooded the landscape with golden light, sparkled upon the waters of Sunbiggin Tarn and highlighted Rayseat Pike standing on it’s ridge to the south-east. What with the Howgills crowning the horizon it suddenly dawned upon me that this was a very special place indeed and I didn’t want to leave.......

You see it’s true. Size isn’t everything. Sometimes it’s of no consequence whatsoever.

Having tried and failed miserably to find White Hag from Oddendale last year (my excuse being it lay just beyond the coverage of my OL5 map), another predictably ‘dodgy’ Cumbrian day gave rise to another attempt last week.

This time I decided to start from the minor road leading south from the little village of Crosby Ravensworth, parking the car a little north-west of Holme Bridge, near Town Head. A bridleway leads roughly south-west from here known as ‘Slack Randy’, for some reason or other, starting as tarmac but soon becoming gravel, then grass.

The wind was up and the mist was a’swirling, but, upon taking a left hand fork, the route heads towards and then alongside the sanctuary of a large drystone wall. This eventually swings sharply away to the left, the path continuing in more or less the same line to pass right by the circle. Being a bit of a wimp when it comes to mist ‘n’ moors I took a bearing here just to make sure. Better safe than sorry......... the result being success!

Lying between the limestone scars of Wicker Street and White Hag, the circle is set in a wonderfully wild location – to be honest in the middle of nowhere – several trees gamely attempting to relieve the harshness of the moor with their spartan profiles, but not achieving a great deal, it has to be said. A large glacial erratic lies a little to the south (ish), not to mention a brace of nearby cairns, with other cairns prominent upon the distant hilltops. The circle stones themselves are pretty substantial, but low-lying and thus lacking the visual drama and haunting profiles possessed by other moorland circles. Nevertheless the vibe here is superb, the peace total, disturbances none. Couldn’t really ask for more. Well, a bit of sun, perhaps?

On the way back it’s also well worth checking out a settlement site near Ewe Locks. Not sure of the ancestry of the place, but several good hut circles are in evidence. Nice one.

At 2,375ft the great mountain of Ingleborough may not be the highest in the Yorkshire Dales – that distinction going to nearby Whernside – but nevertheless eclipses the latter in terms of sheer stature and bulk. Not to mention, or so it would seem, the attentions of the local walkers.

What’s more, the spacious summit plateau is girdled by the remnants of once powerful dry-stone ramparts. Yep, that’s right.... this inhospitable mountain top was once a hillfort. Not only that, but the highest hillfort in Britain, to be precise. Crikey, the Iron Age people who lived here must’ve been hard, whether the average temperature was a couple ‘o degrees warmer in those days or not!

Somewhat short on time following an early morning dash from Essex – if you can exactly ‘dash’ in an old Rover 45, that is – I choose the ‘easiest’ ascent starting from near The Bull Inn at Chapel le Dale to the North.... a little too ‘touristy’ for Gladman tastes, perhaps, but with the compensation of passing some wonderful limestone scars, the enormous ‘shake hole’ known as ‘Braithwaite Wife Hole’ and crossing ‘Humphrey Bottom’ before the steep rock staircase to the final col. They certainly have a great way with words around here. But then it seems they have lots of practice using them, too.

Arriving on the summit my initial sensation was bi-fold and contradictory; elation at the views, disappointment at the lack of rampart preservation. Several, pointless, large modern cairns probably go some way to explaining the latter, I guess, not to mention the mass of visitors. However after going and finding myself a quiet(ish) corner overlooking The River Doe, the atmosphere kicks in and I’m suddenly totally transfixed by this mighty place. Imagine if this was where you lived? I try, but the thought is too much, it really is. Couldn’t exactly play ‘knock down ginger’ on the main gate, could you?

All too soon I must leave to beat the onset of darkness, the circuitous route via Simon Fell much preferable to my way up. Too late to carry on to Cumbria, I spend the night beneath this superb natural fortress. Sure, Yeavering Bell may remain my favourite Northern hillfort (with Carrock Fell not far behind), but Ingleborough is still the daddy of them all.

P.S. Real Ale fans might be interested to know that The Black Sheep brewery lies just up the road. Very appropriate for a TMA’er. Baa! baa! baa!

Fosbury camp is the site of an Iron Age bivallate hill fort. It Would have commanded great views in all directions but is now heavily wooded on the northern side. It is still an impressive looking site and the picture does not do it justice.

Bevisbury was an Iron Age plateau fort on Hampshire’s border with Wiltshire. This site is now greatly mutilated and overgrown. The southern ramparts are the best preserved. There are several pits that have been cut in to the site which were probably quarries, and a private house within the north east corner.

Ashleys copse is the earthwork remains of an Iron Age hillfort .The Hampshire Wiltshire border runs right through the middle of this site. The site is half wooded where you find the best preserved earthworks, but you can still see some of the earthworks on the eastern spur of the hill. Not an easy site to get to so pictures taken from footpath to the east of the site.

Some more new finds from yesterday . The 4x4 grid is uncommon .

When we reached Unstan the wind was really picking up a pace and standing on top of the mound was a feat in itself but the views back across the loch were stunning.

We dutifully crawled in to the passage and into the chamber, torches lighting the way. After the pomp and ceremony of visiting the “big” sites we had all dreamed of, Unstan was breathtaking and stole the show for me. This is how I like to see archaeology; on my knees with a torch in my hand and a slightly hysterical sensation coursing through my body! We all got a bit giddy again and kept bumping into each other and talking over each other – 9 of us crammed into the central chamber, just awe-struck by it all. The almost luminous green of the algae reminded me of the covered cairns at Cairnpapple. This was definitely my favourite site of the day.

Whilst we were “ooohing” and “aaaahhing” at the wonder of it all at Stenness, Alan had wandered off towards the Barnhouse site. For him, this was an incredibly personal journey, returning to Orkney for the first time since he worked on the excavations at Barnhouse in the late 1980s. Again, I was almost dumb-founded by the archaeological remains of this site; where else can you see such outstanding remains of what was clearly a domestic location, situated so close to monuments such as Stenness and Brodgar? One of the things that has always frustrated me when I have visited sites across the UK and Ireland is “where the bloody hell did they live?” Barnhouse goes some way to easing that frustration and gives an insight into the domestic lives of these monument builders. To me, this is as important and revealing a site as Skara Brae and yet we had the place to ourselves. No tourist buses, no visitor centre and no guides telling us what we can and can’t do. Alan explained that the Loch had not existed during the Neolithic period and there was likely to be more archaeological remains under the water. We wandered around, stumbling upon large stones in the landscape and raised mounds, wondering at what it all meant. Fascinating.

It was a typical Orkney day in-so-much as the weather changed constantly and the wind was howling. Living where I do, I am used to REALLY windy weather but still found it exhilarating and was just amazed by how big the sky was. The flatness of the landscape and the ferocity of the wind was just fabulous. When we got to the stones, we were giddy with the sheer beauty of it all and ran round like a group of school children at playtime! Again, these are stones I have seen many times on TV and read about, so finally seeing them up close and personal was just amazing. I knew all about how slender some of the stones are; we have all seen pictures where they look like they are made out of balsa wood and are about to break in two, but was I was not aware of was how beautifully patterned the actual stone was. What must this have looked like when it was a complete circle, with 12 stones standing proud, instead of just the four that remain?

I was surprised that we had to book in advance as it was hardly tourist season, but we dutifully turned up at 2.45pm and all got slightly hysterical! This was our first real site and there were 9 rather excitable amateur archaeologists just itching to get inside! The first disappointment was the “no photography” warning. Why do they do this? Is it so you will buy the guidebook at the end, so you can have pictures of the place? Grrr. It always really annoys me (having said that, the Historic Scotland “Maes Howe and the heart of Neolithic Orkney” guide book is rather good!)

Anyhoo, the 9 of us and 3 other visitors dutifully filed in and the first thing that struck me was how small it was! I have seen Maes Howe on TV many times and it always seemed so much bigger. When you see in on The Modern Antiquarian, it looks positively roomy – and Julian Cope isn’t exactly small, is he? – but once in there with 12 other people, the place seemed really compact. The guide spent a lot of time talking about the inscriptions and less time about how and why it was built but it was generally an interesting visit. There was some discussion as to whether the internal stones had been part of a stone circle- or possible 4 Poster – and the burial mound built around it at some later date, which was thought-provoking and set us amateur archaeos off on one of our rambling debates (more of which to come later!).

Maes Howe is spectacular and interesting and worthy of more than a 20 minute tour – I just really wish they would let you have some time in these places to really get a feel for them. Lord only knows what it is like in high season when the tourist coaches are pulling in, one after the other but at least we had a fairly small group and no one else queuing to get in behind us.

03/10/09 The Siren Call.

Autumn truly arrived to the fell country on a day that saw me wandering alone amongst the Great Langdale stone axe factories. What lay in store should have been obvious when I was halted in my tracks by the wind, a fiendish rushing of air that nearly flattened me, raging down Mickleden, as if it was trying its best to pick up the ancient cairns dotted around and fling them as far as Ambleside. What followed next can only be described as taking an outdoor power shower. It was hard to see through the deluge, and, with the wind, it was painful to any exposed flesh. Well, the forecast had said to expect gusts of 85mph.

My main objective was an exploration of the Martcrag Moor site. At the head of Mickleden, by the old sheepfold, I headed up the Stake Pass track, the beck roaring down on my right. Some of it was roaring down anyway, with the exception of the waterfalls, which were being blown vertically upwards.

With some relief I managed to cross the beck at the top, and was soon on the top of Martcrag Moor, taking welcome shelter behind the rough grey rocks that mark the highest part. By now shafts of sunlight were stabbing into the valley from a tempestuous sky, storm-wracked and spectacular. Would the axe-makers have turned out in these conditions, I wondered.

Between Martcrag Moor and Pike of Stickle there is a flat col, known for its peaty, boggy ground. Erosion repair was under way, the workers absent, with sheep fleeces being laid as a base, before compressed gravel was laid on top, in order to prevent the repaired track from sinking. An ancient practice, apparently. It is around this spot that I had found flakes from axe production before, exposed where the peat had eroded away. They were there again, more being exposed by the increased erosion. There is a certain excitement for me in seeing the clean stone, as if it had been worked last week, with the purcushion marks clearly visible. The outer stone is a whiteish colour, but inside it is a wonderful blue-green. No doubt other evidence of working floors exists beneath the carpet of peat, but I can’t see any excavations taking place in the forseeable future. Despite a good search, I couldn’t find any other sites.

I went up onto Pike of Stickle, with the wind rushing up its precipitous slopes, before going down to the top of its huge axe factory scree. This is a very impressive place, with a humongous amount of stone. Pity most of it has headed valley way.

Not for me the precarious descent today. I was heading for the Thorn Crag site, taking in the Loft Crag site en-route. It was still a tad breezy, the difficulty not being finding the prehistoric evidence, but keeping on my feet. Loft Crag has stone chippings emerging from the peat on its eroded sections, but the peat is a much shallower deposit hereabouts. The clean chips are easy to spot, with very sharp edges. It’s hard to believe what your eyes see. Prehistoric “finds” are usually to be found in museums, not to be found at random on a days wanderings.

A couple of hundred yards away, over at the Thorn Crag site, I inspected the stony depressions that mark the quarry. Here again is evidence of stone-working, with flakes, and larger pieces, broken to expose the beautiful blue-green core, surrounded by a shell of white or terracotta. A lot of the debris lie over the edge, down in the upper reaches of the aptly named Dungeon Ghyll. As an aside, “Ghyll” is a Victorian affectation for the Norse word “Gill”. Both spellings can be found on maps of the area. I made a note to go down into the gill on another day, and take a look at the spoil.

I hadn’t met another soul, which was hardly surprising, as the saying goes that only mad dogs and TMA-ers go out in the morning storm. I finished the day with an ascent of Harrison Stickle, just for the view, as there were one or two sunny spells appearing, and the wind had reduced to a mere gale. Down by Stickle Tarn I went, where evidence of temporary occupation and working by the stone axe makers has been found, followed by a descent to the valley beside Mill Gill, a truly spectacular waterfall today, foaming white the whole length of its dash to the dale.

I had been a rewarding day, what with the battle with the elements, the stupendous mountain scenery, and last but not least by the site of something tangible from the past: a link with the industry of our Neolithic ancestors, the by-product of their labours.

This cairn overlooks the villages of Pitmachie and Old Rayne along with the busy A96. As can be seen it is grass covered, sometimes cow covered, and is 9 meters in width, half a meter high. It wasn’t a day to look about but there are a few rocky outcrops, it would be good to do a Tiompan, Cian etc...

When leaving Pitmachie on the A96, going north, turn left at the telephone exchange. Follow the track until the quarry, the remains of the cairn are on the hill behind. This ground at the best of times is boggy, so maybe it’s better to follow the tree line to the hill top, then walk north (climbing one fence) on firmer ground.

Visited 25/10/09.

Devil’s Den – 2nd August 2009
I should have posted this under field notes back in August, the day after Lammas when the sun was shining. As autumn sets in with the wind and rain its good to remember that sunny Sunday and Devils’ Den.
I didn’t set out that morning to find the Devil’s Den, only to participate in a 10 mile walk ‘around Marlborough’. The person leading the walk lived in the small village of Fyfield so knew the area very well. It turned out to be the sort of day that is feels like a gift, sunny, warm with butterflies everywhere.
When the walk-leader led us into a field of wild flowers, predominately poppies (apparently the second flowering this year) there it was on the far side of the meadow. To the best of my knowledge, Wiltshire’s only dolmen, Devil’s Den. I understand the field is now under Natural England’s Countryside Stewardship Scheme so the dolmen is a lot easier to get to. I believe there was previously an issue about going onto private farmland.
I had only seen Devil’s Den once before and then only from a distance as I walked across Manton Down. It looked very beautiful in the sunshine and meadow of wildflowers in August.