thesweetcheat

(22.1.2022) Leaving Ebbw Vale town centre behind me after my descent of Mynydd Carn-y-cefn, I carry on with the second half of my horseshoe walk of the two ridges either side of the Afon Ebbwy.

My route follows roads into the suburb of Briery Hill, then from a sharp bend turns onto a track which will take me onto the open hillside. It’s still bitterly cold, with ice lying in the ruts of the track untouched by the early morning sun that quickly got smothered by the afternoon’s cloud.

Ahead of me to the south Y Domen Fawr rises with the appearance of a steep, conical dome. It’s partly an illlusion, as it’s actually the northern end of a higher section of ridge, but from here it looks like a solitary lofty peak.

Somewhere off to the southwest I can hear the buzz of off-road bikes. I’m hoping to avoid anymore tire damage after the mess encountered on the Mynydd Carn-y-cefn cairn.

My mind is soon distracted by the steepness of the climb and my protesting leg muscles. At length I crest the hill and the parlous state of Y Domen Fawr’s own monument becomes apparent. It’s a very large mound, but its size and prominent position obviously attracted the attentions of the British Army, who decided it would be a brilliant idea to insert a brick and concrete emplacement into the northern side of the monument. To add insult to injury, a sturdy wooden bench has now been added to the top of the mound. Next to the bench, a rusty iron rod has been draped with blue and yellow ribbons, fluttering in the light breeze. In a couple of weeks’ time, Russia will invade Ukraine, although I don’t know that yet.

Ironically the obstacles caused by brick, concrete and wood may have spared the surviving mound the threat of motorbikes, and the tire tracks here just about skirt the western edge of the mound.

I decide to make the best of the bench and stop for my sandwiches. While I’m finishing off, I’m joined by an older gentlemen who tells me he’s from Nant-y-Glo, a couple of valleys away. We have a chat for a while, he tells me that the brick building was used for radio transmissions at one time. I point at distant hills and talk about Bronze Age barrows and how much I like visiting the Valleys. I enjoy his company and our chat; the “Covid years” have suspended these sort of chance encounters and it’s nice to re-engage again.

As he leaves, the sun finally comes out and I get some nice winter light for a while. Eventually I head south along the ridge, before deciding to head straight off the escarpment down the precipitous slopes to the east. A scramble and tumble through bracken, scrub and quarried areas, this may not have been especially wise but it is quite fast! Eventually I regain roads and head back to Ebbw Vale Parkway for the train back to Cardiff. It’s been absolutely brilliant to get back into the South Wales valleys after such a long time – I won’t be waiting so long for a return.

A hot, sunny trip involving a horseshoe walk around Mynydd Coety and the ridges above Blaenavon in May 2021 reminded me how much I have been neglecting South Wales recently, but even so it has taken me until the turn of a new year (22.1.2022) to act.

It’s freezing cold when the near-empty train drops me at Ebbw Vale Parkway station, a hard frost rendering the pavements slippery. The sun is shining though, and as I start to make my way uphill on a zigzag path to Waun Lwyd, there is a great view of Y Domen Fawr across the valley westwards. If my legs permit, I hope to get up there later today, but it looks like a long walk to get all the way around the head of the valley and up the other side.

First things first though, I already have one steep hill to negotiate above me. The scruffy path climbs to a reservoir, where further four-wheel vehicle access has been blocked by huge stones. Sadly two wheel vehicles are not prevented, as will become apparent later.

Above the reservoir, the escarpment climbs steeply and I’m soon feeling pretty warm underneath layers of clothing. I’m relieved to make it onto the top of the ridge, although the path becomes increasingly lost in heather and grassy tussocks. From the south a big cloud-front is now moving overhead, and my hopes of a lovely blue sky are quickly smothered.

Still, it’s great to be back up on the ridges again. The views are fine despite the overcast sky. My only company as I make my way across the heather to the summit trig is a herd of ponies, wary of me but no trouble. The trig is placed on the highest point of the ridge, giving good long views but absolutely no good views of the valleys either side. For that you need to head to the edges of the escarpments either side. It’s not a great place for a Bronze Age cairn and the builders of such monuments have clearly taken this to heart.

To find what I’ve come up here for, I have to keep heading north along the ridge. Unfortunately the damage caused by motorbikes now becomes apparent; a broad black line cutting through the surface vegetation into the peat below, stretches all the way to the end of the ridge and the solitary cairn at its end. The tracks sadly continue onto the ruined monument itself, no respect given here.

In truth the cairn is in a pretty sorry state even without this latest desecration, a ragged rim of earth and stone around a central scoop, the southern edge almost down to ground level. However, the views and location make up for the state of the archaeology. A sweeping panorama stretches from Y Domen Fawr across Ebbw Vale to the west, taking in the Brecon Beacons (mostly hidden in the cloud), the limestone plateau of Mynydd Llangatwg and Mynydd Pen-cyrn, with the Black Mountains behind, and the solitary peak of Mynydd Pen-y-Fal (The Sugarloaf) beautifully framed by valleys to the northeast, then across eastwards to Mynydd Coety with Blorenge peaking out beyond. A superbly placed monument, for all its unloved, battered state. It’s 11 years and a handful of days since I wandered across the limestone of Twr Pen-cyrn and got my first long distance views of Mynydd Carn-y-Cefn. It’s taken far too long to get up here.

I stop at the cairn for a good while, partly hoping the cloud will lift but it’s not happening. Eventually I follow the scarred tracks steeply down to the flat area below, named Bwlch y Garn (Pass of the Cairn) on the map. At the north-western end of this flat area is another irregular mound. GGAT dismiss this as a clearance cairn and they may be right, but the setting would be excellent for a Bronze Age monument. From here the definite article is clearly visible on the lip of the escarpment rising behind me to the south.

I head off downhill via crumbling paths to Ebbw Vale town centre, a drab place on what has become a grey day. But I’m not stopping, I have another hill to climb, and set my weary sights upwards on Y Domen Fawr.