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After stepping through the fence next to the circle we walked rather blindly into the fog with no more than my memory to go on, it was adequate, we went straight to it, first it was my imagination , then it was a sheep, Eric said its a tractor, it wasn't, it was the fallen stone. It looks like a big door wedge or block of cheese, with lots of smaller stones about it.
If it was standing it wouldnt be much more than a couple of feet tall, but from the circle it might have been edge on and a perfect horizon marker.
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The journey here had been full of ideal photographic conditions, but once we had driven up the old track, the fog closed in and stayed there.
The first time I came I found the shouldnt be there circle first, which confused me greatly when I found the actual circle on the way back down, further musing and reading (with sweetcheats help) have proved that the less impressive of the two is the real macoy, whilst I was there the first time I could see the fallen stone from the circle and that should have said something to me but it didnt, the circle on top of the hill had thrown a big spanner in the works, dont know why it just did.
But this second time I knew where everything was, even in the fog. Up to the trig pointed barrow first, over the dilapidated fence to the confusion circle. Still dont know what to make of it, if it was farmer, I would say he has been to a few real carn circles, if it was missed by ordnance survey and CADW and Aubrey Burl then , well its just unthinkable.
The stone circle is right next to a fence, which should help with locating it, if you were a "hillwalker" you might walk right through it without noticing it. The stones are small, some flush with the ground, two or three a foot or so high, two bigger fallen stones there are, one inside the circle one outside In the next field there is a fallen menhir, perhaps marking a festivals sunrise, Burl said as much I think, memory not as good as it once was.
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The weather had been perfect on the way here, blue skies and golden morning sunlight and fog covered the valley floor between the hills, but it was only just the way there, there was as foggy as you don't want it to be. No sunrise and no view, it was just Eric, me and the the foggy ancient left behinds.
The barrow is much bigger than it looked from a distance through the fog, some exposed cairn material has a couple of big stones in it, and I liked to think of them as remnant cist stones.
Erics feet are starting to get wet now so were off to find the weird shouldn't be there circle.
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Ive not been to many places round the world but this one is up there with Samaria gorge, Mont Blanc and Australian old rainforest, its that good.
We arrived early, but after taking a couple of wrong turns, not early enough, two other cars had spewed its occupants across the carpark and another had pulled up a few isles down, we payed the money grabbing ticket monster and headed off into the autumnal woods in the direction of the smartie tube ?
We came here a few years ago but Eric was too young to remember, he was too young to clamber freely then, this place is a childs dream come true and an over protective parents worst nightmare, but with only one to care for at this time we roamed as freely as the wind. Eric was almost beside himself with excitement he wanted to climb them all but there are still some that we didnt dare try.
Along the edge of the rocks is a platform with a big rocking stone on it, the first time I sat on it, it gave me a scare when it moved as if it would continue rolling down the cliff with me still on it. I climbed atop and gave it the old Elvis the pelvis whilst Eric photographed my rock n rolling.
We tried to get up onto every rock stack because I knew there was another rocking stone on one somewhere, but in these later years rediculous vertigo has gotten me and I'm as scared as an eight year old boy, but in the end we did get upon top of one and from there I could see the neighbouring rock had what looked like three in a row, Tsk!
The autumn leaves and early morning glow may have added to the experience somewhat, but it was just magical, for about an hour or so, then the place started to fill up with people, some with more monkey powers than me, after a while every rock stack had its person point on top, like roving anarak wearing trig points.
It became what I thought was a reasonable time to return to the car, then found out that four hours had flown by, we never did see the smartie tube or maybe we did but didnt know a smartie tube when we saw one. Off to Foutains Abbey now, never been before, is it any good?
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From the northwest henge driving southish a track is on the other side of the road and map says it goes straight to the central henge, we plumped for the shortcut, because thats the way I am. I really should mend my ways, the track doesnt go all the way but degenerates into something like a footpath, it was really difficult reversing over rough ground encased in brambles. But when I did turn round I could see we'd got within a hundred yards of the henge so me Eric and maggie scampered over and climbed over the fence .
The henge is stunningly impressive, if it was on its own I would still have come here but three in a row is just stupifying. The henge is higher in places than others by the southeast entrance the bank has so eroded that a barrow like structure appears at the entrance. It had been a long day and the sun was low in the sky, it would be dark before we were half way home, we left the henge to the fearful sheep and monument destroying rabbits.
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Untill now I'd only been to the other two henges which are both easy to see and get to as theres a carpark between them. This northern henge has no carpark though there is room for a couple of cars at the side of the road but a few no parking signs deter this, not me though.
This was a good vibe place for me though, a tarzy hung over the henge bank and occupied Eric for the whole time, Maggie the Jack Russell kept reacting to something only she could detect, and more than half my photos came out blurry, adding to the mystery of the place very muchly. As if the trees and age of the thing weren't enough. The henge was bigger and better preserved than I'd thought they'd be, a perambulance will pass by both entrances and the henge will reveal itself to you in good time.
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These stones are easy to find as long as you have an OS map and can read it whilst driving, I can, which is why Ive been here twice now, but unfortunately not to the Stripple stones henge located on the south flank of Hawks Tor, it looks a fair old yomp from the Trippet stones here past the farm and up the hill, i'll definately be back, my day on Bodmin has been wild, strenuous, wet, enlightening and sometimes scary.
As I approached the stones I heard a noise behind me, upon turning I saw a big red pickup truck and farmer, the cynic in me groaned.
But it shouldn't have for the red faced rotund agrarian was not only a comedic genius but a life lesson all in himself, we talked of the stones themselves, the government, new agers and of course the weather, after twice using my lighter to relight his gnarled roll up he coaxed the old truck back into life and bid me good day, I watched him drive away whilst removing my camera from it's bag, I thought to myself something had just happened, something to remember. The stones as ever are widely spaced, grey, tall and shapely, the two nearby tors are Carbilly and Hawks and both need you to clamber over and explore every rock and crevice, but the star of the day was either King Arthur's hall or the old farmer chappie.
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I'd already been to King Arthurs hall and Leaze stone circle, and as this one was only a 10 minute drive I just had to come, even though I had no idea which one it was.
I was able to park the car really close, which is always nice, and as I approached it felt like Christmas, "Yeeesss"! I said "it's Stannon."
A large ring of many many low stones, how many I don't know I got a quarter way round lost count and gave up....there's lots.
Never saw another soul all the while I was here, unless ponies count, they might do in there spare time when no-ones watching.
Upon leaving the stones i went past the car and jumped the fence and stream and climbed up the china clay pit earthwork to look down upon the old stones, it was good place to sit, the moor stretches off into the mist and over my shoulder rugged and craggy Roughtor winks at me through the low clouds, and asks why don't you climb me. No time thats why.
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