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Thornborough.......A henge for everyone.

After a lovely time at the Druid's Altar four poster stone circle near Grassington we got stuck, not in mud or anything like that but in a bicycle race, the pestilence, the niche absurdity that is the Tour De Yorkshire.

Druid's Altar — Images

07.05.18ce
<b>Druid's Altar</b>Posted by postman<b>Druid's Altar</b>Posted by postman
They kindly closed the road behind us whilst we were at the Altar, then demanded we go no where til the race had passed. Even after it had passed we still got held up by the race, diverted to within an inch of our sanity, we headed for Boroughbridge, and the Devils arrows, and hopefully out of the reaches of the tour de effing Yorkshire.

The Arrows, are always very entertaining, tall and perfect, and very brilliant.

The Devil's Arrows — Images

07.05.18ce
<b>The Devil's Arrows</b>Posted by postman<b>The Devil's Arrows</b>Posted by postman
But the presence of teenagers sharing a fire, beer and smokes on the fields edge, didn't lend an air of tranquility. So off we went to the last sites of the day, the three Thornborough henges.

I thought what I'd do was start at the north then go middle and then of course south. A good idea, I thought.
There was already two cars parked by the woods, but experience tells me that just because there's a car by an ancient site doesn't always mean that's where they'll be, apparently some people walk for fun, don't laugh, it's true, I promise

Thornborough Henge North — Images

07.05.18ce
<b>Thornborough Henge North</b>Posted by postman<b>Thornborough Henge North</b>Posted by postman

I left daughter in the car and entered the woods, immediately transporting me to another world, a world where the dominant life form on the planet is Bluebells. There were roughly 9.4 people dotted about the henge, bluebells outnumbered us like a million to one, because of the trees, banks and ditches, even if there are other people here, you can still get a very personal visit with this henge.
It's all very much intact as well, some of the banks are higher than in other places, but very well preserved, a sleeping giant beneath the trees. But a shadow loomed, even here, in this quaint and quiet part of the Shire, whilst looking through the southern entrance I saw a worrying thing, a thing that does not go well with ancient sites, it wasn't a bicycle race, but it was lots of people.

Back in the car we go round the block looking all the time towards where were going and inwardly groaning, there appeared to be something going on at the central henge. I parked on the roadside and gingerly approached the henge.
This wasn't good at all, there's hundreds of people here, camping around almost the entire perimeter of the henge, stalls selling crap and trash, portaloos, burger vans, and dread locked wastrels eyeing up young girls, not good at all.

Thornborough Henge Central — Images

07.05.18ce
<b>Thornborough Henge Central</b>Posted by postman<b>Thornborough Henge Central</b>Posted by postman

Immediately I climbed the bank west of the entrance, to photograph the disturbing scene, and was shouted at by greasy fat lady with her husband Krustie "get off the henge" they shouted, I looked around, "good lord, they mean me" they shouted again, "get off the henge" . Natural curiosity got the better of me so I asked "why?" "Because I said so" was the reply, who was I to argue with such clarity of thought, a well planned out argument. I demurred to there outlandish ways and descended the bank, stopped when out of view of most of the hoard, sat down and skinned up.
I've never been, but this is what I imagine a summer solstice at Stonehenge would be like, unbearable. I strolled across the interior of the henge to where it is at it's lowest, and crossed over into the refugee camp cum Beltane celebration. A nearby oaf sitting in his plastic chair noticed me and burbled something at me in some southern drawl, "what?". He said again, "good job no one saw you do that, they don't like it at all". I went over.
"Whats going on here,? I've never been to a henge and not walked all the way round."
" Celtic festival of Beltane innit mate, my misses makes us come every year, I've been here since Friday." He gave me quite a sad look. I inquired further "There's hundreds of henges all over the country, why have you all come to this one?" He shrugged.

Long drawn out sigh.

I decided it was time for a different henge, leaving, I photographed the ugly monster that is a Beltane celebration. Honestly, I like marking the solstices and equinoxes as much as the next guy, maybe more, but it's a bit much to do the half way points between them too, unless of course all's your after is beer, burgers, bangles and under dressed teenage girls.

Returning to the car, I relayed my misadventure to my under dressed teenage daughter. Then told her I'm going to the other henge in that field right there, pointing, Ok she said. She's a good girl.
Now, having a look at these henges on here the day before, I noted Carl couldn't find this henge, I couldn't remember it much either, only that its the most worn out of the three henges, so I picked the bridleway pointing in the direction of where the last henge should be, and entered the field, almost immediately I could see a rise in the land that must surely be it, I got closer, it was, it was the last henge.

Thornborough Henge South — Images

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<b>Thornborough Henge South</b>Posted by postman<b>Thornborough Henge South</b>Posted by postman
It was indeed much more worn down than the others, but still clearly visible, the northern entrance being really quite good. I walked around the henge on top of the bank, there was no Greenham common relic here to tell me off, so I dug my heals in, not really, but I did wave my arms about wildly and shouted I'm walking on a henge, not really, there was a bath on the henge, Oh right, so its OK for bathrooms and camp sites but not for heroes of prehistory such as myself. Humph.
I sat for a while, I found a quiet henge at last, one all to myself, listening to the fine lovely birdsong and the audio equivalent of poo or torturing.
It's been a mixed kind of day.

Then it was time to go home, so we went home.
postman Posted by postman
7th May 2018ce
Edited 8th May 2018ce


Comments (3)

Brilliant, good thing you have got a sense of humour! The bath is probably for any farm animals. Obviously you have problems with crowd gatherings but it will probably not harm the henges. moss Posted by moss
7th May 2018ce
Thanks,
I'd guessed what the bath was for, crowd gatherings aren't my preference, especially when they look like the reject cast from Shameless.
The other year we had a problem with a farm vehicle left in the middle of Nine stones close in the Peak district, we'd have surely melted if they were a row of portaloos. Crowds should stick to football and inner city rioting. Having said that I didn't mind them too much at the Rollrights a year or two ago.
postman Posted by postman
7th May 2018ce
Hahaha, laughing throughout that. I know you have such an affinity for Yorkshire too. Having just survived a bank holiday train trip to Aberystwyth and back I still think you probably had the better deal. thesweetcheat Posted by thesweetcheat
7th May 2018ce
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