Latest Fieldnotes

I say Park in the lay-by and brave the psychos in lorries.

The site is very sheltered and very missable when charging down the A35.
Me and my best friend love this small circle and have visited it 7-8 times in the last half a year.

We both agree that there is a calm feel to the sight and five of the times that we have been there we have both felt like we were being watched!

Would reccomend this site to be visited at night as the stones take on a different feel. If you do decide to visit at night don’t forget to wear some light clothing that shows up un the dark!

P.s in the spring and summer there is alot of wild garlic plants that give the sites a unique smell!!

The Mynydd March stone, along with it’s neighbours Buwch a’r Llo, has the easiest access of any standing stone in north Ceredigion. It’s right next to the road, and there’s no boundary fence.

The stone has two distinctive cracks running diagonal across it, presumably caused by weathering. From some angles it looks very strange, like some sort of a half peeled megalithic fruit. Of the three stones on the verge of the road, Mynydd March is the smallest and the easiest to miss as you drive past.

Relatively speaking, Arbor Low is quite close to Alton Towers, so went my reasoning on convincing the family we should visit before spending the next day on processing in our pilgrimage in the queues at Alton. They seemed convinced until it started raining and they realised it was an additional 100 mile round trip back to the Stafford Travelodge , all after driving up from Portsmouth. Anyway I still think it was worth it. What a site. We did get a bit lost trying to come in from Youlgreave to the East on minor roads, JC’s directions from the West and the fork on the A515 are far easier to follow.

I’ll go with the ‘designed to be recumbent’ theory and from pictures I’d seen I hadn’t realised just how impressive the henge itself was.

No barking dog, just very wet.

Visited 21st June 2003: This was the successful last megalithic visit of our Solstice. I only persuaded Louise to let me look for this stone by promising her a cup of tea in bed the following morning! Needless to say, everyone else stayed in the car while a yomped across the field to the stone.

By this time my hay fever was really kicking in, and it was getting tricky to focus my eyes, let alone the camera. This little stone was worth a bit of suffering for though. Despite it’s relatively small size compared to the Four Stones it’s very reminiscent of them. I wonder whether Hindwell Stone looked something like this when it was standing.

Just inside the gateway to Taymouth Castle, on a (natural) raised piece of ground beside the driveway, are the two Newhall Bridge standing stones. Both stones have been worked, with their inner faces having been smoothed down.

Seperated by a distance of 16m, they are aligned NW-SE, which would seem to discount the theory that they might once have formed part of a circle. As with other Perthshire “two-posters”, one stone (the NW) is slab-like, while the other (the SE) is more square at the base.

26 July 2003
Fascinating site. Such a mixture of different sized and shaped barrows. And not set out in any pattern, yet seeming to fit together somehow…. Or maybe that’s just me.

For some reason I can’t quite put my finger on, photographs of this site have always particularly appealed to me. And I wasn’t disappointed. It nestles near the bottom of the eastern side of a wide yet sheltered, gently sloping valley. I wouldn’t personally use the word ‘dell’ as Treaclechops did in her fieldnotes, it seems more ‘open’ to me than what I would call a dell. No matter. A very pleasant place.

After spending 20 minutes or so walking up and down between the barrows I took a few photos from various angles, but didn’t feel they were really ‘working’. I meandered along the track up the hill past the barrows, but still couldn’t find a view I was happy with, so I wandered back.

Studying the mounds for a few moments I looked around and behind me noticed that the very far corner of the field on the other side of the track gets up quite high.

The elevation looked like it might give a good shot with a big lens on, so nipping across a handy and sizeable gap in the fence, I strode round the edges of the field pausing only to pick up and study the odd bit of interesting looking flint. I soon gave that up when I realised just how many bits there were and matched that up with my lack of experience of worked flint!

Before I knew it I was in the top corner of the field and, fitting my 300mm lens, I had he shot I wanted…. Very satisfying! I’ve posted it here.

26 July 2003
Up the hill, passing the magnificent Uffington Castle enclosure or fort on my right, I reached the Ridgeway and followed it west for a short distance until a bridlepath appeared on the left.

Orientating myself with the wooded land marked on the map and what I could see on the land, I followed the slightly overgrown path for about half an hour at a pretty brisk pace.

This brought me to the twisting ribbon of woodland right beside the barrow cemetery.

A short distance across the down I could see what looked like the top of a barrow largely hidden by a dip perhaps. Ah. No dip. Not the TOP of the barrow then? The whole thing? Uh-huh.

Making a shape a bit like a little flying saucer sitting on the grassy plain, Idlebush Barrow itself looks to me to have been fairly denuded at some stage. Its outer edge is a very low embankment, with the small mound (less than 20 feet across, at a guess) rising only about 5 feet up from it. (Sorry if these guesstimates are way out, but what I’m trying to say is it’s pretty small!!)

A little further on across the down is another barrow, this time almost completely ploughed out, but enhanced (or at least made more noticeable by the long reedy grass it is covered by. It is just about possible to make out a slight embankment surrounding it.

I’ve posted some photos of both. Retracing my steps and bearing west toward the strip of trees, I went back past both barrows looking for a ‘tumulus’ (another barrow really) marked on the map that I had missed.

Well, if it’s there, I missed it on the way back too, and it must be virtually invisible. I suspect that to most non-experts like myself, it is effectively ploughed out.

A word of warning. Although they still look far from impressive, somehow my photos actually manage to make the barrows look more appealing than they seemed at the time…. Don’t get your hopes up!

A few days after the midsummer solstice and my first visit to this magickal site. Coloured chalk symbols on the flankers and on several other of these seven upright stones. Some may object to this, but for me it enhanced a remarkable place and as long as it’s subtle, then the rain will wash all away soon enough.

Typical of the North Yokshire ancient monuments, the Council has chosen to ignore that they exist and build a motorway next door. Sorry to be political, but North Yorkshire is the county of destroyed ancient monuments, a trend our current council seems content to continue.

The Arrows sit close to place where the Ure changes it’s name to the Ouse. Julian mentions the Ure as the River of the Goddess Ur.

This crannog is in Acharn Bay, just W of Acharn village, and measures 42m from NE to SW, and up to 26m across. A possible landing point has been identified on the SW end. Timbers on the loch-bed to the N of the crannog may be associated.

The Cuigeal-Mairi crannog is now submerged, except at times of low water, and as such is marked with a pole. Made of stones, it measures 30m in diameter, and is due W (on the opposite shore) from the Crannog Centre, and due N from Acharn.

This is a stone-built crannog close to the SW shore of Loch Freuchie, not far from Glenquaich Lodge. It rises to a height of 1.8m out of the water, and measures 33m E to W by 17m across. It has been planted with conifers.

25 July 2003
These stones really are very difficult to spot from the B4022 and it isn’t until you take the turn off right beside the wrecked burial chamber that you can see them. Even then they don’t exactly leap out at you with the trees wearing their summer foliage!

The stones retain a power and atmosphere of their own despite being so ruined that I found it difficult to picture the site as a burial chamber and without the trees. Can’t honestly say I could even see the orientation myself without looking it up.

25 July 2003
Approaching Chiddington from the east, I turned right for Dean. Arriving at Dean, there is a bench set on a verge, where I took an immediate left. After a good few hundred yards this lane bends fairly sharply right (you can see where I mean even on a road atlas).

Right where the road turns there is a footpath signposted heading more or less straight on across the fields. Parking here would have been inconsiderate so I carried on to the next junction and was pleased to see that if I turned right (continuing a loop back towards Dean) there was a small layby.

Walking along the lane back to the footpath described, I realised I could see the Hawk Stone projecting above the horizon on my right. I simply followed the path and couldn’t miss the stone, standing alone in deep crop.

Luckily, distinct tractor tracks enabled me to cross the crop to the stone itself, though photographic opportunities were limited. I still took several pictures hoping that what remained of the interesting cloud formations would add to the atmosphere, but alas, it proved too late.

Deeply textured and looferlike in it’s surface – in a similar way to the stones of the Rollright Stones, King Stone and Whispering Knights etc, the single stone is also a bizarrely shaped beastie. (See Rhiannon’s ‘Folklore’ post on the Hawk Stone page.)

This is one of those single stones that in my opinion calls into question Aubrey Burl’s assertion that single standing stones were usually originally part of a bigger setting. I find it difficult to reconcile the size and proportions of the stone with a burial chamber, yet neither does it fit the style of the Rollrights circle.

Perhaps it’s one of the exceptions. It certainly looks right on its own and I couldn’t imagine how it would look any other way.

25 July 2003
Like Kammer, a look at the map showed me the shorter and simpler path from the west up to Belas Knap. Encouraged by his fieldnotes and in view of the weather conditions I drove round the lanes to the north of the long barrow, through the farmyard at the end of the tarmac and up the unmade lane.

All was just as Kammer describes but it is a measure of my mood having bumped the car earlier, that I drove that far. If reasonably practical I usually leave the car outside farms and go and ask permission, walking from the farm!!!

As I pulled up at the bottom of ‘Kammer’s path’ I found it now has a signpost, so I knew I’d got it right. Which was a relief.

Kind of bigger than I expected, it must have been a long time since I read a description, as I had forgotten (if I ever knew) about the chambers being ‘open’ through the sides of the barrow. Though I did remember that the apparent ‘main’ entrance was a classic ‘falsie’.

After rolling around on the wet ground photographing the low lintelled south-eastern chamber, I stood up and just took in the scene. For the first time, the day was living up to my expectations fully. The frustrations of Inchbrook were forgotten as I stood in perfect peace. Not a soul….

25 July 2003
No ice cream van in evidence today in the filthy weather, I soon realised that I had misread the Landranger as to where the barrow is. As you drive up the short entrance road to the car park, the barrow is on your right as you turn left into the car park proper.

I drove round the car park (one car in residence) and parked as close as I could to the barrow. I still got drenched. In almost any other place this would be a nice enough example of a long barrow, with just enough of it left to make it easy to visualise. But other than out of convenience or completism (guilty) with Hetty Pegler’s Tump just next door, there’s not really much reason to bother.

The picnic area probably has nice views on a clear day and you could enjoy a nice ice cream though. I wouldn’t know – couldn’t see for the mist and rain….

25 July 2003
Spotting the signpost for Hetty’s pseudonym ‘Uley Long Barrow’ on the right, I pulled into the tiny layby, discovering that at the moment at least there is a nice flat piece of grass just inside the field behind where it looked as if people had been parking.

I parked the car and got out. In the time it took me to put on my coat I was pretty damp. I walked a couple of hundred yards in the direction the signpost pointed but the path petered out.

Retracing my steps twenty yards or so, I noticed a slight gap in the hedgerow that had been on my left and was now on my right (if you see what I mean). I stepped through and, as I hoped, to my right stood the long barrow which had been hidden from my sight by dense summer vegetation and filthy weather!

Oh for a sunny day to visit! This must be a pretty wonderful place when the water isn’t seeping down your jeans and you don’t have to have your camera stuck inside your jacket, digging in your chest.

I just managed to keep my knees clear of the growing puddle as I squeezed through the entrance into the central passage. Immediately I’d got in I realised I’d done it again…. I’d left my torch in the bloody car!!!!

I knew from experience that this would probably also scupper my chances of getting decent photos as I wouldn’t be able to focus in the dark….

Squatting in the now dampening chamber I could immediately make out the layout and construction of the passage, the remaining chambers on the left (south) and where the destroyed chambers would have been on the right (north).

As my eyes became accustomed to the dark, the light seemed just good enough that I tried focusing manually and fired off a couple of decent shots. (I haven’t uploaded them as they are too similar to the pictures already included on the relevant page of this website.)

I love seeing ruined barrows and burial chambers, but there really is nothing quite like being able to get inside these things! I often refer to ruined ones being like a ‘cutaway’ or ‘exploded’ diagram, but as the stones of the passage and chambers are visible from inside you still get a clear picture of the construction.

It’s especially nice to find the peace and feeling of well-being which seems, from comments on this site, to be universally felt here. I even sat in the blackness of the south-eastern chamber for a few minutes, unusual for me – not because of any misgiving about the dark, but because I’d usually rather be moving and looking and poking!

Eliean nam Faoileag is a crannog made entirely of stones, built on a sand bank base. It measures 17m in length from N to S, and 10m across, although it used to be much bigger – in the last 30 years the level of Loch Rannoch has been raised about 2m. The sand bank curves round from the crannog and connects to the S shore of the loch, and before the loch level rose, was about 1.2m under the surface.

At some point in the past there was supposed to have been a small prison on the crannog, belonging to the Robertsons of Struan. The present tower is said to be a facsimile of the prison, built by a Baron Granbley in the 19th century.

Visited 21st June 2003: My first visit to the Four Stones left me under-impressed. I got the feeling that the stones were standing in isolation from their surroundings.

Second time round it all felt like it made a bit more sense (whatever that means). I took greater care to look at the hills framing the plateau where the Four Stones stand, and spotted a distinctive distant hill that is obscured by a large tree near the stones (I think this is Burfa Camp).

I also found the three cupmarks that I’d failed to look for on my first visit.

25 July 2003
Regulars will know that I voiced strong reservations about Kapoor’s piece of art. Not from an artistic, aesthetic or conceptual point of view, but from the point of view of someone seeing the Rollrights for the first or only time – visiting from abroad perhaps.

My thinking was that if I’d arrived at say ‘La Table des Marchants’ for my only visit (probably) ever, and found a big chrome blob in the middle of it, I’d have been irritated, annoyed or even upset.

So was I right? Or were the more artistically minded folk around these parts right?

Well. Ahem. Let’s just say I stayed for an hour and took a few photos. Just the 19….

The ‘sculpture’, if that’s really the right word, is somehow unobtrusive, despite being quite big and finished with brightly polished chrome! I guess it’s because the Rollrights is a pretty large circle.

Yet it draws you in. And you find yourself playing games – looking at the reflected stones, trees and countryside. Watching the clouds. Watching the light change. Looking at your own reflection. Standing up. Squatting down. Walking away. Walking back up to it. And great fun to try to capture all this on film!!!

The weather for my visit also made the experience particularly interesting. The sky was dull as I arrived and the chrome looked almost dirty. I quickly realised though that it was actually just refraction of the dull sky from the tiny water droplets left on the highly polished surface by the rain.

As the sun emerged, the whole character of not only the circle, but the sculpture too, changed in unity. The previously dull metallic ‘blob’ was now dazzling with intense reflected sunlight, still refracted by the tiny rain droplets. Stunning.

Count me as a convert. But there wasn’t a quintessential dichotomy in sight. Unless it was behind one of the stones.

I believe it’s still there for a few more days. GO!!!

Rock art in Sheffield?

A large carved sandstone slab with 3 ovals surrounding several cup marks. The ovals have been cut so deep one of the platforms with the cup marks on stands proud of the stone. Several ‘gutters’ are also carved which just about surround the whole of the other carvings. A corker!

I reckon the best place to start is on Whirlowdale Road, near to the junction with Whirlowdale Crescent. Take the path on the corner and follow it thru’ the woods along the line of the gardens that back onto the wood. The first stream you come to (dry in summer) head off left into the trees for about 70m, the stone is in a clearing and is clearly visible.

Arriving at the car park between Knap Hill and Adam’s Grave we found ourselves with company. Today it seemed everybody had decided to visit Adam’s Grave! I can’t say I was surprised – after a torrential downpour the night before the weather had taken a turn for the better, and we found ourselves walking in glorious sunshine.

The view from Adam’s Grave is outstanding. We sat and contemplated for a good long while, people coming and going all the while. When we finally decided to leave I realised I hadn’t actually taken any photographs, I’d been so taken in by the place I’d just forgotten to. I soon amended this, before making our way to Wansdyke.

This impressively large stone stands 90m to the NW of the cairn circle variously known as Sma’ Glen or Giant’s Grave. The stone itself seems to be named the Giant’s Grave, but on the 1867 OS map it is called Clach Ossian. What is now called Clach Ossian is a couple of kilometres further up the glen, however, there appears to have been some confusion regarding these names over the years. Clach Ossian, Giant’s Grave and Soldier’s Grave all seem to have been used by different writers and historians for different sites, and seem almost interchangeable. The names Clach Ossian and Giant’s Grave are supposed to relate to Ossian, while the name Soldier’s Grave is supposed to represent the grave of one of Wade’s road builders. Given the confusion writers seem to have had in the past identifying these sites correctly, who knows what the correct name for this stone is.

[visited 28/7/03] Magnus Magnusson opened this idyllic retreat in urban north kent in 1985. The Rising Sun pub noted by Dyer, is long since gone and has been replaced by a council estate. The closest we londoners get to Ballybrack, I guess.

Nothing to see unless you like pebbledash coverered cubes of cement. The first piece of the skull to be found was where the large ‘plinth’ is now, the next two pieces where the small ‘seats’ are.

As I left the site, the phrase ‘one for the enthusiast’ ran through my head...

I saw this one on CANMORE when I was compiling my definitive list of Perthshire stones, and they had it down as a cup-marked rock with a possible stone circle:

rcahms.gov.uk/canmore/details_gis?inumlink=25168

Well there’s no possible about it, this is definitely a circle! The stone at the centre measures 1.7m x 2.0m across it’s top, and is between 0.7m and 0.9m high, depending which end you measure at. The upper surface is profusely decorated with many weathered cup-marks. CANMORE says at least 28, but I could only count 15 or 16 clearly.

Around this stone is a ring of 10 stones, with a circle diameter of about 18m (I was measuring with my feet, so it’s not exact!). These stones appear to be equally-spaced from each other at a distance of about 4m. There are a few other stones lying about which may or may not have formed part of the circle, but it’s difficult to tell exactly what’s what as there are trees growing all over the place (which is what you’d expect in a forestry plantation I suppose), and the stones have a considerable amount of moss and grass on them. Nevertheless, this site is still well worth a visit, as it has a good feel to it.