Latest Fieldnotes

At 3,196ft, Foel Grach is one of the Carneddau’s – and therefore Wales’ – highest mountains.... a brutal, uncompromising spot, yet perfect for contemplating those thoughts where only a completely clear psyche will do. Although thoughts such as ‘how do I get down again in one piece?’ are arguably more practical.

As such it’s no surprise to find the remains of a Bronze Age burial cairn crowning the rounded summit, a suitably grand spot to be near your Gods – or whatever else the chieftain laid to rest here believed in – I’d have thought.

It goes without saying that the views are awesome on a clear day, though perhaps the experience of being here is heightened when the cloud swirls ethereally around the tops and the wind threatens to blow your insignificant body over the edge? Nature at her most primeval, her most powerful, the human being fully at her whim.

Bearing this in mind it occurs to me that perhaps we may be barking up the wrong tree – not that there are any for miles around up here – when automatically assuming the siting of burial cairns upon mountain tops was for reasons of personal aggrandisement. Perhaps it was an act of symbolic subservience to the natural world by the heads of Bronze Age society? Then again perhaps this is simply a case of imposing modern world views upon those of our ancestors, the two being mutually incompatible? Well, it’s a thought. I’ll stop now......

As for Coflein:

‘...The summit is a base of outcrop on which stones have been piled to form a rough structureless cairn 1.6m high, now with a slight hollow in the centre.‘

Walked here from Carreg Maen Taro 14.8.2009. I had intended a trip over to Blorenge cairn, but by the time I got to the WT station at Cefn y Galchen, the drizzle had become persistent and I headed straight here.

There are two cairns mentioned on Coflein. According to the OS, the named “Carn-y-Defaid” is the SW of the two. One prominent cairn is immediately visible from the WT station, being situated on the horizon. This makes navigation easy, even in the rain.

As I got nearer, it was apparent that the visible cairn is on the NE side of the path, which would not make it the named cairn but the other one. It’s a great big monument, an impressive mound of stones even though the centre has obviously been dug into. The drizzle didn’t encourage me to linger, especially as the exposed situation also added a pretty stiff wind. So, hood up and visibility restricted, I crossed the path the look for the SW cairn. I found two small-ish “cairns” both obviously much tampered with. I wouldn’t like to commit to either of these being the named Carn. Maybe I missed another larger cairn, but really didn’t fancy lingering any longer.

I headed back to Blaenavon along the footpath across Mynydd y Garn fawr, passing a couple of upright (natural?) stones on the left hand side.

[Edit 20.2.2010: Seen from Carn Blorenge on a much nicer day, it looks as though the large cairn is Carn-y-Defaid. There is another large cairn just down the slope to the NE, which was invisible to me in the mist when I came up before. A return trip to check this out is on order.]

Visited 14.8.2009 on a cloudy walk up from Blaenavon. The site is both better than expected and a bit of a disappointment – better than expected as the position is superb, with excellent views north over the Black Mountains, to nearby Blorenge and the Sugar Loaf; a bit of a disappointment as the 1.7m stone in Coflein turns out to be rather smaller – less than a metre in height.

It has the inscribed M and B, and there is another smaller, fallen stone a little distance to the north, nearer to the edge of Blaen Pig. Definitely worth a visit, despite the shrinking size of the stone.

This one is a brilliant little stone circle .
There is room for one or two cars south of the stones on the road where it hoops north round and over a small stream. Access the hillside through two stones (Cant be missed) go up till you leave the wooded stream and cross it, fifty metres or so from here is a modern stone, part of a trackway across the wilderness. From here, after admiring the wonderful Stanage edge, walk directly towards the closest part of the Edge(North East) for about three to five minutes all the time looking for a small but noticable cairn. If you can find it congratulate yourself and carry on in the same direction for a further three minutes looking all the time for grey stones. If you find your way straight there you did better than me, I think the map isnt entirely accurate and it sent me and Arnie the bat faced dog in an exhausting and isolating trek over this almost barren wildeness, but at the same time I found a row of cairns aligned east-west and the weird gurgling of red grouse kept my spirits up.

The stones,of which I think there are seven are set into a bank, and I think the same helpfull guy who’d been chopping back the bracken at Hordrens edge had been here too, and recently judging by the cut marks on the stems and the cuttings hadn’t had time to disperse in the wind.
After taking sooooo long to get here I couldnt sit and appreciate the place as fully as i’d liked, I can imagine sitting here quite a while, but the time I did spend was time well spent, a very nice little stone circle.

Plenty of parking half a mile south east of the circle, where the road meets the pleasantly named Hell bank plantation, there was a dozen cars there when I joined the throng.
Follow the path with the trees on your left then climb a high stile over the wall and take the left track. The circle is about fifty yards from this track on the right, a land rover type track passes right by the circle and goes on towards Hob Hursts house.
The tallest most impressive stones are on the south side whilst some of the stones on the north side are only just poking above the grass and not all of them are original, one or two are quite loose.
Give me a few good men and one afternoon with shears and we could have this place looking postcard presentable, but untill then lets just be glad it’s here at all, for every stone circle thats still here, how many passed away into oblivion ?

Despite the full carpark I only saw three people all afternoon.

Slightly more than a half mile north east of Park gate stone circle, and a pleasant walk up a gentle hillside with the goblins wood to the left and open moor and Harland edge to the right, crossing Harland sick on the way, there are four sicks in the vicinity, looked like a stream to me.
I had seen the pictures on here a long time ago and had since forgotten what the place looked like, so I was looking for a more normal cairn, all’s I knew was it was on my must see list, so given a whole afternoon to myself there was only one thing to do, go round Hob’s house.

Hob must have been livid when he saw what Bateman and his mates were up to, far too angry to have been simply mischevious, he must have exploded in a green cloud of desperate anguish, he could have decapitated them all in an instant, but this was the modern world now and the pact of non interferance with the pink skins left him impotant and empty.

Ive been to a few burial chambers and cairns but this place is unique, as I said, I wasnt sure what I was looking for, but when I found it a big smile came to me and I thought no wonder it was on my to do list. It is a little wonder is Hob hursts house, a big sqaure cist made of more than a dozen stones, on a big sqaure barrow surrounded by a sqaure ditch. It looked very much to me like a teeny weeny little Arbor low.
Someone has been here with the intention of displaying the barrow all the ditch was free of ferns and most of the chamber was clear also, I pulled a few out myself and then reclined for a while listening intently for distant whispering voices but only got bridsong, damn those flying mice.

I approached this site from the north which proved to be an obstacle course. On the way back it was easier as I managed to find a bridge that crossed a stream instead of jumping. Gates instead of barbed wire fences. All the usuals. Take the first minor road east north of Methlick on the B9170. Keep going until this road ends at the Mill Of Sessnie. Walk back to Sessnie Croft and walk thru the field, over the bridge climbing the hill in front which will lead to a track. Turn south for 1/2 mile. The barrow is on the eastern side.

The barrow is has a ditch surrounding it which has all but filled up. Ground from the track to the barrow is also quite swampy in places. All the other details are in the Canmore pages, type Bellmuir. This area has many hut circles, causeways, a standing stone and probably most importantly the River Ythan. There are also rocky outcrops all over the place.

This place with its surroundings does have an aura about it. I know several sites have been excavated in the area and there’s a sense of maybe better things to come. Better to go on a nice day, and for a change when I visited it was.

Visited 23/07/09.

The trial excavation here for the Ness of Brodgar dig has uncovered another ‘great wall’ and it is interesting to note that this is at right angles to the standing stone pair, ‘pointing’ across the gap (centrally ?)

Being the last week of this year’s dig, with today the last predicted dry weather, took my final visit. Finally minded to visit the trial excavation on the other side of Lochview. Disappointingly only one face of the feature has been exposed so far. What they haven’t mentioned yet is that the ‘new’ “great wall” is at right angles to the Lochview/Brodgar stones, possibly bisecting the gap between the pair. If this does mark the southern edge of the site that would put the likely chambered tomb on the putative ‘living’ side, which would raise several interesting questions.

Visible from the road close to the car park for the Kilt Rock viewpoint the broch stands on a promontory at the north end of the loch. Now much reduced and largely converted into a sheep fank

Sighted in the field next to the road and its own handy little car park this souterrain is well worth exploring. The site is complete with info boards explaining the souterrain itself, its discovery and excavation also its associated Round House the remains of which are close by. For the adventurous: hard hats and instructions on where to obtain a torch are available.

I came up here at the weekend for the first time. It was quite a steep climb for a weed with the sun bearing down, but I certainly felt refreshed at the top because the wind coming over the crest was relentless. And that’s what struck me most about this place, that its various sides are quite different. I kept feeling quite disorientated.

There’s the side you see from the road, with the horse and the obelisk, and more interestingly, the swoopy undulating dry valleys (one has a very closed entrance making a better manger than at Uffington). But once you’re at the top, this side doesn’t seem so important. Also the obelisk, which is so overbearing from the road, doesn’t even seem in the ‘right’ place. It points aggressively up to the sky, but your mind isn’t on the sky at all now, you’re looking out over this enormous view. If no-one’s got any objections I suggest we blow it up. It’s only commemorating some toff’s ancestor and it’s falling apart anyway.

Looking to the southwest there are some more intriguing valleys at Calstone Down. I particularly liked that direction. It was fantastically blowy though and I had to sit behind one of the many, many banks and hillocks. It looks so clear on the map, but seems so complex when you’re here. I wondered if some of the rounder dips were dewponds. It was lovely though amongst the woolly thistles and the anthills and the harebells. There are lots of windswept hawthorns that add to the atmosphere too. It was warm and I could have fallen asleep.

Walking round to the flat area ouside the banks to the east, I was delighted to spot Silbury Hill, as large as life. If you’re on the road you have to wait some distance for a glimpse, but up here (as often happens at such places) everything was starting to fit into place. There was absolutely no-one around now, which was surprising considering the numbers of people over by the obelisk. And now somehow out of the wind, that gave the place a strange air too. I walked along the high banks back to near the horse and sat down for a bit.

I felt like my mind was working very clearly (for once). Maybe being up here in the fresh air, elevated above mundane things, encourages a clarity of mind. I wondered if the prehistoric people that lived up here felt the same. Or perhaps they were indifferent once they were fed up of the draught through their roundhouses. I skittered down the chalk path and back to the road.

Crathie Point is one of a number of cliff forts in the area. The Iron Age forts at Durn Hill, Portknockie and Burghead being the nearest. All that is left at this magnificent setting is a northern rampart and a ditch at the southern point. Maybe the ruined wall is the remnants of the entrance. Both sides of the fort are sheer cliff face. Therefore the nearest natural harbour is at Sandend, 1 mile east.

To reach here leave the A98 before Cullen and follow the signs for Findlater Castle. Car parking is there. Just follow the path, the Buchan Coastal Walk, past the doocot and castle (which in it’s day must have been some place, stunning!) for about 1 mile. The ruins of the old wall/entrance mark the start of the fort. A very worthwhile walk and the coastal scenery is wonderful!

Visited 24/8/09.

Syd Halkett, the owner of Knauchland farm, kindly showed me an OS map from 1904 showing the original position of Kemps Cairn. The lid of the cist is kept beside a dry stane dyke up the small hill to the east of the steadings. It is 11/2 (approx) meters in length. Whoever was buried here must have been important as the views are wonderful.

Going south from Glenbarry, on the B9022, take the second minor road east and stop at Mid Knauchland farm. Ask permission from Syd and his wife, who are nice people and will give plenty of local information when asked.

Rhiannon deserves most of the credit as she pointed out that the cist was there in folklore notes for the nearby Conjure Cairn. Thank you!

Visited 24/08/09.

A few years ago I found a marked rock about three miles from here and at a height of 690 m it was esily the highest in the UK and I didn’t think it that likely to find anything much higher .
Until these two .They are not much to look at but the context is astonishing . The boss and surrounding groove is at 844 m and the cup mark is at 1011 m . .When you consider the latter is higher than Skafell and there are only 120 hills above 1011m in Scotland the chances of finding something higher is diminishing .

Bennachie is a the highest point in the rural part of Aberdeenshire and dominates the skyline from all over the North East. Several paths lead up it. The Lords Throat, Bennachie vistor centre, the Rowantree (Maiden Castle and Mither Tap hillfort) and the Back O Bennachie at Oyne. The Garioch walk also meanders over the several peaks of the hill. There are also two Gouk Stones, ancient settlements, cairns and Archeolink. More famously the battle of Mons Graupius, from which the region gets its name, was supposedly fought between the Picts and Romans. It is easy to see why the “ancients” held the place in reverence. Also the legendary Jock O Bennachie giant stories are still well known up here. The hills at Barra, Dunnydeer and Tap O Noth all faced his wrath. Truly magical and always will be.

Most of the paths are well worn but the climb is steeper nearer the top. The Rowantree path leads straight to the Mither Tap hillfort, with Maiden Castle fort being located near the car park. On a clear day the views stretch all the way to the coast.

Visited loads.

Hmm...I must admit I was initially a little confused to find Ysgyryd Fawr defined as a ‘Sacred Hill’ within TMA since the long, elongated summit ridge is enclosed by what appear to be defensive earthworks – a hillfort, no less. OK, these aren’t exactly powerful, but then again they don’t need to be since the only feasible direction of attack is from the south. Case closed, m’lud.

However the presence of the (very) scant remains of St Michael’s Chapel at the summit got me thinking (Uh oh, not that again!) and doing a bit of reading .... why build it here? I can’t escape the tentative conclusion that it may well have been for the same reason the earlier enclosure was laid out – to absorb or appropriate some of the otherwordly ‘sacred power’ this hill was clearly thought to possess, if the local folklore is anything to go by, that is. Handy to utilise for your Christian congregation’s spiritual needs (if somewhat hypocritical, it has to be said) and handy to call upon a bit of divine assistance when your Iron Age neighbours want to do your knapper in as well.

Let’s face it, there are numerous precedents for Christian sites trying this scam (Knowlton Henges, Ysbyty Cynfyn etc). The Iron Age thing is less clear cut, but many a hillfort incorporates seemingly revered Neolithic and Bronze Age monuments within their ramparts. Was a touch of supernatural help the finishing touch to assuring your safety? Not that it always worked, of course.

On a more prosaic level a visit to this wonderful ‘mini mountain’ is, well, wonderful, either by the easy ‘tourist’ route from the south, or the steeper approach from Pen-y-parc to the NE, right on the English Border. The views are superb, particularly across to the Sugar Loaf and The Black Mountains. And then there’s the legends............

Visite 09/07/09. Flamin’ Hell, this is a big, impressive site, with banks and ditches of almost Avebury proportions. Obviously it’s been tamed, and spruced-up a tad, with a modern, slightly-pisses-me-off entrance. But, did I want an overgrown site, which was hard to see and interpret, and an entrance which was overgrown and hard to find? Yes, and no. Can’t have both, can I? So, it’s the modern take, and the huge, cleared centre.
It’s definitely easy to appreciate how massive this place is, and the info boards are full of info, as you’d expect, even directing you to the archaeologist who dug the site, which is helpful, ‘cos so many lay-people who visit the lesser-known sites don’t always know where to find more knowledge.
The area is massive, once housing up to 1,000 people, and it just has to be seen to be believed. The views from the bank are superb, south across the flatlands of Hampshire, and with the various hills in other directions. It’s a very quiet spot, and the wind rustles gently through the surrounding trees. On my visit I had the place to myself, and it was one of the most peaceful places I have ever been, with an atmosphere reeking of the past.

Overlooking the busy town of Crickhowell (Crug Hywel in the native Welsh) which eventually superseded it, a visit to the small hillfort of Crug Hywel is memorable, to say the least. Set upon what is known locally as Table Mountain – for obvious reasons, since the site looks as if some alien spaceship pilot had a few too many ‘Romulan ales’ and sliced a bit off – at 1,480ft the hillfort requires a very steep climb to reach. It is well worth it, however, if only for the views of the wonderful Usk valley alone. I’d recommend an approach from the east, via the outdoor centre at Perth-y-pia, since this is the route myself and the Mam Cymru took.

Despite being in such an exposed position the defences have survived reasonably well, all things considered, the state of preservation probably assisted by the fact that it’s such bloody hard work just getting here, let alone pinching stone and carrying it back down again… I’ll leave the technical stuff to Coflein:-

The fort is tear-drop shape in plan, tapering towards the northwest end, and encloses an area roughly 100 metres northwest-southeast and 50 metres northeast-southwest. The interior slopes towards the southeast end. The fort is entered through the northeast side, through a gap in the rampart and inner defensive wall roughly 8 metres wide. The inner defensive wall has collapsed to 5 metres wide and approximately 0.3 metres tall. The rampart wall is better preserved, standing to a maximum of 2 metres high, although it has become flattened on the south and southwest sides. The vertical distance between the bottom of the rampart and the top of the inner wall is roughly 10 metres. Two hut platforms and a hut circle are located against the inside face of the inner wall on the northwest side of the fort. There is also evidence of a round building to the south of the entrance.

Note that after the initial rigours of the ascent the 2,300ft summit of Pen Cerrig-Calch is a relatively easy onward walk to the approx NW and provides great panoramic views of, well, everything. If you fancy it go prepared, however. This is Wales, after all. Oh, one more thing. Don’t forget that the Gwernvale chambered cairn – well the orthostats at least, since there’s no ‘cairn’ – is a ‘no-walk’ bonus beside the A40 just outside of Crickhowell itself.

Visited August 2009. The site was somewhat overgrown and it was difficult to see the position of anything other than the main cist. We walked up from Chelmorton, but you could easily drive quite close to the site from the lane going past Five Wells Farm. A peculiarity of access to the site is that when you follow the line indicated by the (now broken) finger post, you need to go *past* the site maybe 50 yds to a gateway which isn’t obvious as you approach, meaning the temptation is to scramble over a collapsed drystone wall – I’m sure the farmer would rather you didn’t!

You don’t quite get a 360 degree view now, but when the mound was there you would have done from the top.

Undertaking a weekend tour of a few sites in the vicinity I arrive at Segsbury, the last on my ‘itinerary’ – for want of a better word (since my trips always seem to descend into improvised chaos) – too late to do it justice.

I therefore decide to kip in the car and have a proper walk the ‘morrow, bright and early. Segsbury seems handy in this respect since the road actually penetrates the hillfort’s defences before morphing into a dusty track to meet the Ridgeway beyond. It’s a brilliantly clear, calm, moonlit night, the thought of actually sleeping within a hillfort not at all unappealing – I simply love being in ancient places, me. I check in with home and am ‘jokingly’ told to remember to keep quiet and not upset the ghosts of the previous inhabitants..... Yeah, right. I’d probably have a chat and ask them what they thought about their neighbours on the Sinodun Hills....

All is fine until, some time after 3 am ‘something’ hurtles past the car in the pitch darkness – and in total silence – making it judder with the displaced air. I freak out, jump out of the car to have a look, but whatever it was is long gone – no lights, no noise, nothing. I assume I must have been dreaming...... although there’s no doubt that the car moved without a breath of wind around... ooer. Check the handbrake. On.

Next morning dawns perfectly as I go for a wander around the hillfort’s powerful univallate, D-shaped ramparts. It’s a long walk, too, this being a large enclosure, no doubt home to quite a substantial population and their animals in times of trouble. The surroundings are great, too, even the cooling towers of distant Didcot power station appearing deceptively aesthetic.

Nethertheless Segsbury clearly has the potential to do funny things to a traveller’s psyche.......

Well seen from the summit of Uineabhal, this small dun is perfectly sited within the northern end of Loch Huna

A causeway links it to the shore of the loch, but not well enough to prevent seriously wet feet – so no, I didn’t venture further. I’ve read that some crannogs deliberately incorporated this feature so that invaders – not wise to the intricacies of the causeway – would plunge to the bottom... perhaps that was the case here?

The landscape of North Uist is a surreal, magnificent patchwork of lochs and lochans, an environment where even the most modest hill seems to assume the proportions of a mountain. Uineabhal itself possesses the enigmatic remains of the great Leacach an Tigh Chloiche chambered cairn upon it’s south-western slopes and is only reached by a hard two plus mile slog from the nearest road. Dun Ban is the icing on the cake for those who are able to tear themselves away from the great tomb and clamber to the summit.

It’s hard to imagine a more remote place than this. It’s hard to imagine a more serenely beautiful one, too.

Visited on 06/07/09.
It’s in a lovely setting, this Iron Age hillfort, on the edge of a rolling down, and now occupied by a farm. It’s now a series of ploughed-out banks and ditches, barely discernible in the field, and hardly worth a visit, unless you’re passing. In fact, you wouldn’t know it was there if it wasn’t for the fact it’s marked on the O.S. map. I can’t see many photos of this site being posted. I didn’t bother taking any. Go to the Bell Inn at nearby Wylye instead.

“Small hillfort levelled by ploughing. From the excavation of 1959-64:- a pedestal base and bead rim sherds from the lower silt of the ditch and pre-camp Iron Age ‘A’ occupation material. A collection of brooches and a ring found in 1863 plus an iron arrowhead are in Salisbury Museum. A watching brief during 2003 produced no information or features.” according to Wiltshire and Swindon Sites and Monument Record Information website. Sceduled Monument AM449.

Visited on 08/07/09. This is Burl’s “the last round barrow”, as is the caption of the photo in his “The Stonehenge People”. It is Scheduled Monument, number SM10371.
It is pretty much ignored, except, perhaps, by the occasional interested people passing by in a car. It lies just east of Stonehenge, and most people will be seen with their backs to it, staring at the enigmatic sarsens of that great circle.
I wandered over, as cloud shadows chased across the landscape, the sound of the traffic close by. I have never seen anyone approach it, and I had it to myself. There is an impressive ditch with berm, and a patch on the SE side has been eroded away, probably by rabbits. It is quite an impressive barrow.
The ubiquitous Hoare dug here, discovering, beneath an upturned urn, bone tweezers and a cremation, as well as bluestone fragments.
Next time you manage to dodge the obscene admission fee, and sneak into Stonehenge over a distant fence, walk across to our old friend, Amesbury 11, and keep it company for a while, as it’s a lonely old soul.

Third seasonal visit of the year (2.8.09). The woods are beautifully green and totally empty today, everywhere dappled by the filtered sunshine. I already had a heightened sense of anticipation as I approached.

I spent about an hour here today, in perfect peace with only birdsong for company. Didn’t see a soul the whole time I was here. There have been visitors though, the remains of a small campfire and a rough bivouac attest to that. I’m not sure that waking up next to this wonderful barrow wouldn’t be too much to take. Each time I went to leave, the sun went in (I’m not joking) and came back out when I decided to stay a bit longer. This happened at least three times.

When I finally did go, I set off through the wood in a NE direction, following what seemed a pretty direct path to take me out to the B4070. After about 15 minutes, I looked ahead and found myself facing West Tump again.

“I put a spell on you...”

An autumn visit is clearly required now.