thesweetcheat

A summer’s day revisit (11 June 2021). Fancying a trip to the Wye Valley and realising it’s been a decade since my previous visit, this seemed like a good place to combine with a couple of quiet hills on the border between Herefordshire and Gloucestershire.

The bus drops me at Goodrich, and a steep climb takes me up Coppet Hill from where I can survey most of western Herefordshire, across to the Black Moutains in the west and even as far north as Titterstone Clee in Shropshire. Everything is beautifully green and lush. A superb start to the day.

From here I can also see The Queen Stone, which I’ve never visited but which I really should. The excellent aerial view unfortunately also reveals that the farmer is busily spraying the crop in the stone’s field today, which puts paid to that idea. Instead, after a pleasant wander along the ridge to take in the excellent views, I drop down to the valley and cross the river over Huntsham Bridge (not a very nice road for pedestrians).

A footpath runs southeast along the banks of the beautiful Wye, through lush grasses, to the bottom of Huntsham Hill. From the riverside there’s a fine view up to the sheer cliffs of the hillfort and Yat Rock. The towering location of the fort is very imposing, clearly no-one would be attempting any kind of attack from the river.

Leaving the river bank through a short stretch of chest-high nettles (shorts seemed like such a good idea earlier), I climb up through Elliot’s Woods to the top of the hill, before heading to Yat Rock for the stupendously picturesque view of the Wye and back towards Coppet Hill.

A quick cup of tea at the cafe, and it’s into the trees for a revisit to the fort. The last time I came was September, it was really quite overgrown but just starting to die back. Unsurprisingly, June is just as bad in this height of the growing season. The western ends of the ramparts are a choked tangle of briars, hazel and nettles. Luckily, the tall tree cover is thicker to the east, so the shin and ankle shredding undergrowth is less deep and difficult to get through.

I’d forgotten just how impressive the inner banks and ditches are, the earthwork standing well over my head from the ditch. A winter or spring visit would almost certainly be better to reveal more, but it’s very pleasant here in the trees and no-one else seems inclined to leave the paths and roads.

After exploring as much as the vegetation allows, I head off along quiet footpaths, to catch a bus from English Bicknor. It’s been a lovely revisit to this scenic part of the Wye Valley, and definitely worth approaching the fort from below to truly appreciate its daunting location.

A revisit towards the end of an excellent bank holiday Monday walk from Blaenavon over Mynydd Coety and Cefn Coch (31.5.2021).

It’s taken me over a decade to make the revisit I promised myself after stupidly missing the northeastern cairn in worsening weather last time. No such problems today, the sun is shining and dehydration is a greater threat than lack of visibility. Heading over the heathery moors from the WT station at Cefn y Galchen, I meet a women who has walked up from somewhere on the eastern side of this high ridge. She tells me she’s a farmer and a grandmother, and she’s obviously fitter than I am. Like me, she’s come up here to get away from everyone and everything; she expresses a vague plan to drop down to Abergavenny, but clearly intends to go where the mood takes her. I like her immensely, we chat for a while and wish each other well on our walks.

I brave the pathless heather for the yards to the big cairn that I visited last time. It’s a really decent monument, a huge pile of stones with its central scoop not really detracting. The northeastern cairn that I missed last time is not far away, slightly downhill and hanging right on the edge of the escarpment. As such, it enjoys the better views off the ridge and towards Ysgyryd Fawr. A great place to stop for a while and just let everything melt away.

At length I make myself leave, it’s still quite a walk back to Blaenavon for the bus. On the road, I catch up with a huge shirtless man, with bottle-thick glasses, who wants to chat about all the pubs in the town and slows me down greatly. I don’t begrudge him, it’s that sort of day. I’m knackered by the time I get back to the valley and the bus stop, but it’s been brilliant to come back to today’s sites, with fresh enthusiasm and a decade’s worth of familiarity with this upland landscape.

A long overdue revisit on a hot and sunny bank holiday Monday (31 May 2021).

I arrive here the long way round this time, after a lengthy walk from Blaenavon over the moorland tops of Mynydd Coety and Cefn Coch. Descending to Waun Afon, I’m glad of the dry weather as the causeway across the moor (complete with mostly-stripped, overturned car) is partially under water. Once I reach the road, the landscape turns rather grimly industrial, gravelly tracks winding up the humps of disused mining and quarry tips. The scars on the immediate foreground are greatly compensated for by the terrific panoramic views along the northern skyline though, from Pen y Fan to the northwest, Mynydd Llangatwg and the Black Mountains north, and the Sugarloaf/Mynydd Pen y Fal and Blorenge northeast.

The stone is as small as I remember, although at least it hasn’t got any smaller. The last time I came, I came straight up from Blaenavon and I barely knew any of the skyline hills by name, let alone by personal experience. Now I return to a landscape where I recognise all the distant hills and have climbed most of them, so the landscape context is greatly enriched on this second visit. I still have doubts about the age of the stone, but there’s no doubt at all about the pedigree of its placement. I’m glad to be back here, and it’s especially good to return to South Wales after what seems like a very long time.

After a nice rest and some food, I head up over the tall spoil heaps to the east before heading to the heaving bank holiday carpark by Pen-ffordd-goch pond, then on to the gentle (and thankfully final) climb to the masts on Cefn y Galchen and an equally overdue revisit to Carn y Defaid.

After leaving an overcast Condicote Henge, the Gloucestershire Way takes me northwest along a muddy track before crossing a minor road near Crabs Corner (1.5.2021).

The sun is now shining, at least for the moment. Looking south I can see the prominent mound of Oak Piece long barrow, a site for another day. The Gloucestershire Way parts company with the Diamond Way on the eastern slopes of Cutsdean Hill; I take a detour along the latter south of Cutsdean Lodge, as I want to visit this round barrow. Past a pleasant little wood, the bridleway turns into a minor road and the round barrow is clear in the field on the south side of the road.

It’s a really decent mound, not the usual ploughed-down to nothing monument that this part of the country seems to prefer. Today it sits resplendent in Spring sunshine, with this year’s new lambs playing about on the mound. I don’t venture into the field, as the mothers won’t be happy and I don’t want to spoil this fleeting idyll. A dark bank of cloud is building quickly to the south, so I don’t linger.

Cutsdean Hill rises gently from here. Despite being the third highest hill in Gloucestershire it’s pretty innocuous from this direction. On my way to rejoin the Gloucestershire Way, I pass the summit trig sitting forlornly in the verge, surveyable views westwards blocked by trees. Across the gallops the ground drops quite quickly to Ford, but the rain arrives before me, becoming torrential by the time I reach the little settlement – so heavy that I take refuge in the decommissioned phone box for 10 minutes. Once it passes, I have a clear sky to take all the way to Winchcombe, thankfully. I’m glad to have detoured to see this barrow, it’s a good ‘un.

A revisit on an overcast May day while walking the Gloucestershire Way from Stow-on-the-Wold to Winchcombe (1.5.2021). In contrast to the lovely warmth of the previous weekend’s walk, a cold wind is blowing across the wolds today, and rain is threatening to arrive from the east.

It’s been over a decade since I last came here, less than the blink of an eye for the henge. Last time I came, the southern part of the henge was accessible through a little pedestrian gate from the village hall. Sadly the gate is now locked, possibly a reaction to the ongoing pandemic, although it’s pretty unlikely that anyone will catch Covid in an empty field. The road runs right through the middle of the earthwork, but this ain’t no Avebury! The dull weather makes photographing the almost-gone earthwork from the road even less easy than before.

I content myself with sitting on a bench and having a snack, on the edge of where the henge once was. It’s a survivor, but only just. A rarity in Gloucestershire, so worthy of the revisit for that novelty. Onwards!

After leaving Hazleton long barrows and rejoining my route, the Gloucestershire Way takes me through Salperton Park and the pretty Cotswolds villages of Notgrove and Cold Aston (26.4.2021).

I’m not sure what to expect in the way of access to this next site, although I’ve seen it standing prominently in its field from the bus window on many occasions. It turns out I needn’t have worried, as the field is open from the Camp Farm track to the south, and there are also numerous gaps in the hedge separating the barrow from the footpath.

It’s a superb barrow, very reminiscent of East Kennett with its crown of tall trees and isolated setting, on top of the high ridge separating Cold Aston from the Windrush valley to the north. The earthwork is well-preserved and stands proud above the field surface. It’s the jewel of today’s three sites, and one of the best long barrows in this part of the Cotswolds.

At length I resume my walk, dropping down to the Windrush at Aston Mill, then re-ascending the next ridge. Looking back from here, the barrow is a very obvious landmark across the valley. Getting tired by now, I head to the tourist trap of Lower Slaughter (“private property” signs abound) and then have a final, tiring climb up Stow Hill to finish today’s section by the Tolkein-inspiring church door. A good day out.