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Tri Chrugiau, Mynydd Epynt (Barrow / Cairn Cemetery) — Images (click to view fullsize)

<b>Tri Chrugiau, Mynydd Epynt</b>Posted by GLADMAN<b>Tri Chrugiau, Mynydd Epynt</b>Posted by GLADMAN<b>Tri Chrugiau, Mynydd Epynt</b>Posted by GLADMAN<b>Tri Chrugiau, Mynydd Epynt</b>Posted by GLADMAN<b>Tri Chrugiau, Mynydd Epynt</b>Posted by GLADMAN<b>Tri Chrugiau, Mynydd Epynt</b>Posted by GLADMAN<b>Tri Chrugiau, Mynydd Epynt</b>Posted by GLADMAN

Tri Chrugiau, Mynydd Epynt (Barrow / Cairn Cemetery) — Links

Sennybridge Army Training Area (SENTA) Firing Times

Monthly firing times for the Sennybridge Army Training Area. Ensure you check these out before travelling to avoid disappointment... or worse.

Tri Chrugiau, Mynydd Epynt (Barrow / Cairn Cemetery) — Miscellaneous

As those familiar with the Welsh vernacular will already have guessed, the Tri Chrugiau are a group of three large, earthen round barrows, in this instance gracing the Mid Walian uplands of Mynydd Epynt. Located a little to the northeast of the 1,560ft summit of said mountain, each monument is still in the region of 6 – 8ft high; consequently, a visit would appear a 'no-brainer' for any Citizen Cairn. There is, however, a pretty sizeable catch. Please take heed....

During those dark, dark days of 1940 – with murderous psycho-loon Adolf Hitler poised across The Channel after overrunning Europe with his automaton Fascist goons – the locale of Mynydd Epynt was occupied by the MOD for Army training purposes, with all inhabitants forcibly evicted, albeit supposedly only for the duration. Desperate times call for desperate measures etc, so no argument there. Trouble is, the Army never gave the land back and is thus still utilising the mountain as an artillery/small arms range, thus limiting access to the archaeological punter big time. It is what it is.

OK, I'm not about to engage in the trendy 'army bashing' so prevalent among the chattering classes nowadays. No, what with the likes of Putin's Communists doing what states governed by extremist ideologues have always done by murdering civilians – this time in Ukraine – clearly, the need for our Armed Forces is as great as ever... and the UK's soldiers need to be trained somewhere, right? Furthermore, the general public can be as stupid as stupid can be, endangering themselves and others in the process... so one can sympathise with the military viewpoint. However, a little better organisation on behalf of SENTA wouldn't go amiss....

As it happens The Citizen Cairn, for once, did his homework and checked out the SENTA firing times upon their web-page (see link) to make sure I wasn't going to be a part of the problem. Job done, or so I thought. So you can imagine my confusion when, upon approaching from the west along a bridleway from Cynala, I'm greeted by a red warning flag where no red flag should be. The confusion is heightened upon calling the stated number (0187 4635599) to ascertain that the red flag here is apparently "always flying"... (not those damn, murderous Commies again?) You what? Yeah, I know what you're thinking: so what is the point of the OS depicting a public right of way upon their maps and, furthermore, SENTA publishing firing times if the Army can't be bothered to adhere to its own procedures? The jolly, bewildered chap on the other end of the line – bless him – had no idea, to be frank... of the topography of the range, of where the Tri Chrugiau are located... why anyone would want to visit ... or much else for that matter, simply repeating Major someone or other would not be pleased if I ventured forth without 'permission'. So you're saying I need 'permission' to venture upon a public bridleway to Tri Chrugiau having received confirmation that no firing is scheduled? Nonsense. Absurd, obviously, so I assumed I was fine to proceed and extra map reading lessons should be within the local Army curriculum?

The monuments themselves were well worth the hassle, to be fair, so I would encourage everyone to visit. Just please MAKE SURE YOU CHECK FIRING TIMES BEFORE MAKING THE TRIP AND DOUBLE-CHECK WITH THE HELPLINE SHOULD THE RED FLAG STILL BE FLYING. The Army have a difficult job and clearly need upstanding Citizens Cairn to make allowances for any military muppetry and not add to their problems. Who knows, it might even prompt a little more reciprocation?

Pen Pumlumon-Arwystli Cairns (Cairn(s)) — Fieldnotes

The uplands of Britain - the quintessential 'Great Outdoors'- is a topic of conversation that does seem to polarise opinion somewhat. Yeah, like that (in)famous yeast extract, or iconic Irish porter, folks do tend to either love it... or hate it. Now, what with so much division prevalent within society nowadays, I'm not about to engage in denigrating the opinions of, say, people whose idea of 'getting back to Nature' is a week inside a geodesic dome at Center Parcs; nor to question the intelligence of tourists who, by wandering up mountains devoid of waterproofs, risk not only themselves but the lives of those brave souls on call to rescue them; nor even to ponder why some individuals believe crawling at 2mph across a rutted track in a shiny 4x4 has any merit whatsoever. No, opinion is, by definition, subjective. Instead, why not turn the lens upon oneself for a moment to consider this: is it illogical, if not paradoxical, to enjoy escaping from reality for a brief period by immersing oneself in... reality? By hanging out upon piles of stone crowning a mountain top, for example?

OK, so this is not a new deliberation as far as I'm concerned. The thought has occurred - more than once, to be fair - that there are easier hobbies than putting oneself physically and mentally on the line in a self-evidently forlorn attempt to understand that which will never fully reveal itself: the inner thoughts of those Bronze Age pioneers who populated these Isles when the basic fundamentals of our present-day way of life was still a radical new deal. Did they reason in a similar manner to us? If so, what WAS it about mountains and hills that consumed these people to the point of demanding they expend so much time and effort interning their VIPs 'up there'? Was there something inherent in their society that ensured ordinary prehistoric punters viewed the uplands with an awe/deference not too dissimilar to that which some of us feel to this very day? Or was it merely the manipulation of the group mindset by the priest/chieftain class in a cynical attempt to maintain the power status quo, as per the succeeding monotheistic religions? Well, to my mind, if there are clues to the resolution of this dilemma, they are only to be found on location - upon the stage set where all elements of the theatrical production are brought together: the mountain top itself.

Now, assuming, for example, that the reconstructed Globe Theatre is the optimum setting to enjoy The Bard's tongue-twisting offerings, where in the UK best meets the search criteria for a Citizen Cairn intent upon grasping the nature of that Bronze Age upland vibe? As with most things first-hand knowledge is beneficial when making such subjective judgements... to know what one is talking about. To my detriment I've not yet had the pleasure of visiting London's Bankside... however, over 30 years walking the UK's hills and mountains, with an ever-expanding focus upon prehistory, leaves me in no doubt that Pumlumon is, quite simply, the doyen of all locations. In my experience nowhere else in these Isles' uplands possesses such a concentration of ancient funerary cairns located in such wild, unfrequented terrain. That Pumlumon also happens to be the outstanding fountain head of UK rivers is, surely, no coincidence?

To my mind a subtle interaction of numerous essential factors is required for that perfect upland ambience, assuming such a phenomenon transcends personal preference. Neither sheer height above OD, nor size of monument/preservation alone will suffice: Pen Pumlumon-Fawr is almost 1,000ft lower than the significant grouping of great cairns surmounting Y Carneddau up there on the North Walian coast; neither does Pumlumon possess as monumentally titanic an upland cairn as, say, Tinto upon The Scottish Borders; nor even anything to compare with the jaw-droppingly well-preserved chambered cairn cemeteries to be found - admittedly at lower altitudes - across The Irish Sea. Clearly, the chosen site can not be so easily accessed as to be subject to the incessant noise of tourist chatter, yet so isolated as to remove that sense of human connectivity to the environment. All things considered, I maintain it is Pumlumon's unique distillation of attributes which assures its supremacy when assessing that upland prehistoric vibe: the relationship we Homo sapiens possess with the raw, brutal upland landscape. To unbridled reality.

Pumlumon it is, then. But which of Pumlumon's multitude of cairn-endowed summits should the determined traveller choose in order to sample that 'essence'? Well, Pen Pumlumon-Fawr, at 2,467ft the loftiest point, naturally receives the majority of traffic, this predominately consisting of tourists ascending the old mine track from Eisteddfa Gurig to the south intent upon 'ticking off' the view from the apparent highest point of The Cambrian Mountains (although, from a traditional viewpoint, that accolade is attributed to Aran Fawddwy). Good for them.. and good for the farmer collecting the parking fees. Worth every penny, so everyone's a winner, right? Err, not quite. One only has to view the damage wrought upon the great central Bronze Age cairn - vandalised to buggery by the gouging of numerous shelters by the ignorant criminal element - to appreciate there is an inescapable detrimental impact upon the seeker of that elusive vibe even here. No, for the optimum 'connection' our hypothetical seeker must turn the gaze to the approx northeast where, a little under 2 miles distant, rises the seemingly inappreciable Pen Pumlumon-Arwystli. Topographically speaking, an inferior mountain... yet in my opinion possessing that additional 'Je ne sais quoi' when it comes to atmospherics.

It has to be said that when viewed from the south Pumlumon isn't likely to excite, let alone inspire the uninitiated. While this is understandable, it nevertheless highlights a fundamental ignorance of South/Mid Walian mountain topography on behalf of the observer, whereby the dramatic landscape features are usually to be found upon the northern escarpment. Such is the case with Pumlumon and this is the reason why I begin my return ascent to Pen Pumlumon-Arwystli beside the former 'outdoor activity centre' of Maes Nant, overlooking the sparkling waters of Nant y Moch Reservoir. At 2,431ft, Pumlumon's second peak is marginally lower than its western neighbour... but, crucially for Citizens Cairn, spared all but the boots of die-hard, heads-down trekkers 'doing' The Cambrian Way, plus a few more well-informed punters checking out the sources of the Severn and Wye. OK, so... reasonable height, wild - yet not prohibitively obscure - location and hence, minimal disturbance by tourists: check. But what of the monuments themselves? Well, here is where Pen Pumlumon-Arwystli excels, the summit boasting a trio of great stone piles arranged in linear array, these complemented by a series of much smaller satellite cairns clustering around the primary monuments like chicks to hens. Check. There is one more initial aspect to consider: the approach. Err, check. Reckon I can still do it.

So, the day having dawned more-or-less cloudless, I set off eastwards along the stony bridleway accessing the Pumlumon heartlands of Cwm Hyddgen. It was apparently hereabouts where Glyndwr ambushed an Anglo-Flemish force in June 1401, the nearby Bryn y Beddau ('Hill of Graves') said to reference the last resting places of the fallen back then. I, however, seek those of a much older epoch located far above. Pausing to refill an already depleted water bottle at the fast-flowing Afon Hengwm, the doubts momentarily surface... as if mimicking the turbulent waters giving the bedrock such a hard time: am I sure I can still do this... hey, it's not too late to back out, to be sensible, you know? Objections duly noted, I override my concerns and decide to see how far I get, striking off to the south-west above the Nant y Llyn with a vague notion of taking a little of the 'sting' from a direct approach, this prior to veering up towards Pen Cerrig Tewion. The latter is a long time coming, however, the terrain underfoot not remotely conducive to the swift forward motion of a heavily-laden man - a fact Glyndwr's soldiers were no doubt only too aware of - save of the kind Jürgen Klinsmann might recognise. Better to have made the crest fence-line rather earlier, methinks, but there you are. Nevertheless, the glorious view of Llyn Llygad-Rheidol clasped below the frowning cliffs of Pen Pumlumon-Fawr is a stirring sight, the sudden excessive wind mitigating the otherwise significant heat factor. Job's a good 'un. Only problem is it's also a somewhat underestimated one, the profile of cairns surmounting Pen Pumlumon-Arwystli's summit still quite a way distant.

Bypassing Blaen Afon Gwy (source of the River Wye) to its immediate north, I negotiate a surreal landscape of eroded peat hags to finally arrive at the summit some two and a half hours after setting out... quite a hefty approach, to be fair. Two factors compete for sensual supremacy, neither achieving dominance: the brutal, yet thankfully none-too-cold wind... and the overwhelming visual spectacle of two massive circular cairns (there is a much more subtle third to the north, of equally enormous diameter, yet much lower profile). Those who have been accorded the privilege of visiting some of Wales' mountains will be aware that quite a selection are crowned by large funerary cairns in varying degrees of preservation; however, to find three of such stature - of such significant diameter - grouped closely together above 2,000ft is possibly unprecedented (I'll need to review).

The first of Pen Pumlumon-Arwystli's great stone piles encountered measures between 59th and 65ft in diameter (depending on whether you believe CADW or Coflein) and is seriously impressive, despite the presence of the customary summit idiot shelter - yep, even here... there is no respite from the hill-walking vandals. Immediately to the northeast rises the central cairn, an even larger monument of c72-75ft diameter, albeit defaced by a shelter fashioned into its eastern flank, in addition to the summit. Hell, I want names! I want addresses of the fools responsible! Nonetheless, the sheer volume of fabric still incorporated within the cairn is mind-blowing. Finally - last, but certainly not least - sits a ring cairn of c65ft diameter. A ring cairn? Yeah, I know... unexpected, or what? The initial impression is that of a seriously denuded remnant of a round cairn, but closer inspection on this occasion reveals no visible trace of surface stone within the gap between 'ring' and 'central core'. Henceforth, I have to say I'm now convinced by the designation, by the evidence of my eyes, this rendering all possible associations with the trio of cairns surmounting Pen Pumlumon-Fawr null and void. Furthermore, I manage to identify at least one of a series of much smaller subsidiary cairns cited by Coflein as clustered around the primary monuments. In short, far from being a subsidiary top mirroring the sentinel peak, it seems Pen Pumlumon-Arwystli stands as at least an equal.

Nerdy 'archaeological stuff' duly taken care of, I settle down to devote the remainder of my time to the primary reason for dragging my poor aching frame to this wondrous spot: the sweeping vistas, the very real sense of becoming 'one' with the elements, a sensation amplified manyfold by the hammering wind. As I lay back and immerse myself in reality, the thought occurs: assuming one accepts that Émilie du Châtelet, Einstein (etc) were onto something with this conservation of energy lark (as you may have gathered I didn't go to university) why shouldn't one postulate that some of that human 'essence' - recycled electrical pulses - now resides within the very atmosphere that is being repeatedly hurled with excessive violence against my Gortex? Luckily I ain't afraid of no ghosts (so no need for that Ghostbusters' speed dial). Yeah, logically these Bronze Age people might well have been onto something when choosing to interact with Nature free from the many complex social distractions of everyday life 'down below'. Seems to me that up here one's faculties are free to focus upon whatever comes to mind... to soar along with the Red Kites, fabulous creatures which instinctively know better than to battle the elements.

As if on cue - a cosmic stage hand operating an unseen lever - an encroaching mass of unforecasted grey vapour suddenly approaches from the west to obscure the scene, clammy tendrils of swirling moisture seemingly grasping for purchase upon the landscape, only to succumb to the ferocity of the wind and move on while reminding this traveller in no uncertain terms of the gravity of the situation. I feel the conscious need to reassure myself that, truly, 'I AIN'T afraid of no ghosts'... but then again, perhaps this gentleman doth protest too much, methinks? A compass bearing upon Cwm Gwerin is of more practical comfort, if ultimately redundant as the landscape is revealed in all its clarity once again. OK, fair weather hill fog isn't exactly unknown, but there's no denying it adds to the drama of the theatre. This Bronze Age theatre. Throw an occasional 'Brocken Spectre' into the repertoire and is it any wonder those shamans may well have been able to hold their audiences totally in thrall?

What a fabulous place this is! To the northwest, the deep defile of Cwm Gwerin guides the transfixed gaze to distant Cadair Idris and the high peaks of Snowdonia, Aran Fawddwy, birthplace of the Dyfi - and topped by a single massive funerary cairn - visible a little to the right. Some 1.5 miles distant to the northeast, beyond the rising of the Afon Hafren (aka mighty River Severn), Pumlumon Cwmbiga's twin huge cairns bring Pumlumon's main ridge to a fitting conclusion, while yet another behemoth stone pile resides upon the southwestern terminus at Y Garn - a total procession of some 4.5 miles. Coming full circle, 'The Green Desert' of Elenydd, the intimate heart of Mid Wales, leads the eye to the Great Old Red Sandstone Escarpment of South Wales: Black Mountains, Brecon Beacons, Fforest Fawr, Y Mynydd Du.. a cornucopia of prehistoric heritage hidden in plain sight. A lifetime of discovery for those able and willing to lift their eyes above the horizontal plane.

The more I ponder imponderables, the more the fact that this summit is set between the sources of two major rivers seems key to the location of these three huge cairns; furthermore, is there a wider association between the trios of cairns upon Pumlumon's two main tops and the fact that three rivers rise here upon the main ridge? Speculation, but nonetheless. Indeed, it truly beggars belief why on earth anyone should climb all the way up here.... only to cower away within a shelter hastily consuming sandwiches while staring at the inside of a mutant drystone wall? Just what is the point? It's a rhetorical question, of course, one I consider asking a muppet who duly arrives to do just that... but refrain upon getting the distinct impression I would be quite literally talking to the wind. To my mind, these idiot shelters should be progressively dismantled, their prospective occupants actively encouraged to dress appropriately for extreme conditions and not passively condone the systematic vandalism of our heritage.... or keep the hell away! These are scheduled ancient monuments and 'protected' by law - ignorance of this is no defence. He is one of a handful of passers-by who briefly pause here en route to somewhere else. In contrast - given the choice - I wouldn't want to be anywhere else at this moment. As would any Citizen Cairn.

The hours fly by and I find I must begin my return journey or risk benightment; but then, if the summit of Pen Pumlumon-Arwystli can be considered a natural stage set, a visit here is surely the equivalent of experiencing Mr Shakespeare's 'Hamlet' - you really couldn't do it justice in less time. Forewarned of what is to come - not by the metaphysical, of course, but by plain old prior experience - I briefly consider the 'easier option' of retracing my steps, before commencing my steep, trackless descent northwestwards into the aforementioned Cwm Gwerin. Surely it can't be as taxing as I recall from a dozen years prior? Err, yeah, right. And I'm not twelve years older? Nonetheless, if ever an experience can concurrently be considered a full-on physical ordeal... and incredibly rewarding, it is a traverse of this wondrously untrammelled valley, set deep within the remote interior of Ceredigion. I have heard Cwm Gwerin cited across years as arguably the wildest cwm in all Wales; a pretty fair description, to be fair. Sure enough, the going is hard, with not even a hint of a recognisable footpath until well into the latter stages, this despite the presence of several derelict farm buildings standing mute testimony to times gone by. Progress is slow due to the unforgiving terrain underfoot, yet steady. At times the cacophony of cascading water - that of the Afon Gwerin (naturally) rushing to engage with the more voluminous Afon Hengwm arriving from the north - is overwhelming.

Crossing to the northern bank of the Afon Hengwm I head west now following a semblance of a path, this frequently losing itself within bog until I eventually once again stand at the ford just east of the confluence with the Afon Hyddgen. A final push/stagger sees me reach the sanctuary of the car, utterly spent physically... yet mentally recharged beyond all reckoning. Hey, if I was ginger that battery with the distinctively coloured top might as well give up the ghost. Ah yeah.... speaking of which? OK, I'm not about to say I believe in the supernatural, that there indeed exists a metaphysical medium whereby the inherent energy of those who lived before has been transposed into a form with which we can interact beyond the most basic level.... such as being blown around a mountain top. I'm not saying we can 'cross over' into another 'mystical' realm transcending the known laws of physics simply by communing with extreme Nature.

Oh no, no, no! Give me reason over blind faith any day. Darwin before the self-serving priest. However, if we accept that how we perceive reality and how we relate to this crazy, spinning planet defines who we are... our sense of morality and how we act; if we also concede that our predecessors may once have possessed instincts and cognizance of stimuli honed to a much higher degree than ours by the life and death necessity of the hunt, faculties that still reside within us, dormant from lack of use; and, finally, if we make the assumption that our own modern perception can be influenced/amplified by external factors including location, mind-set, the weather etc.... then I reckon Pumlumon - Pen Pumlumon-Arwystli in particular - offers quite possibly the optimum stage set to re-discover an appreciation of ancient theatrics in these Isles.

OK, I'm not saying that to watch the winter solstice sunset at Stonehenge is not an awe-inspiring spectacle; nor mid-winter sunrise at the magnificent tombs gracing Brú na Bóinne. These are mind-blowing locations, indeed. However, these are monuments specifically designed, methodically created to achieve a defined result, a predetermined impact upon the viewer.... Nature, in effect, harnessed by the elite to make some pretty cosmic points. No such control was possible with the great mountain top cairns, an environment where Nature is at its most extreme, most brutal... and sometimes, if you're lucky, most spellbinding. Simply put, nowhere else can compare with 'up there'.

So, if you do get the chance... grab those boots, open your mind and... Let the show commence! Let the show commence!

Saith Maen (Stone Row / Alignment) — Links

Saith Maen... The Mid Walian version

Carn Owen (Round Cairn) — Images

<b>Carn Owen</b>Posted by GLADMAN

Bryn Dafydd (Round Cairn) — Images

<b>Bryn Dafydd</b>Posted by GLADMAN

Craig y Lluest, Cwmdeuddwr (Barrow / Cairn Cemetery) — Images

<b>Craig y Lluest, Cwmdeuddwr</b>Posted by GLADMAN<b>Craig y Lluest, Cwmdeuddwr</b>Posted by GLADMAN

Wales (Country) — Links


Self-explanatory link... there's even an introduction from Iolo himself.

Pen-y-Gorllwyn Stone (Standing Stone / Menhir) — Links

The enigmatic Pen-y-Gorllwyn monolith

Truly, this must have been something else when erect. Not bad on its side, to be fair. Well due a rest, eh?

Gorllwyn (Barrow / Cairn Cemetery) — Links

Gorllwyn... summit cairns and descent

OK, took a long time to reach, but worth the wait.

Ascent & NE Ridge of Gorllwyn

A serpentine route to Gorllwyn, Cwmdeuddwr..

Craig-y-Dullfan (Pumlumon) (Cairn(s)) — Images

<b>Craig-y-Dullfan (Pumlumon)</b>Posted by GLADMAN

Bwlch yr Adwy (Ceulanamaesmawr) (Round Barrow(s)) — Images

<b>Bwlch yr Adwy (Ceulanamaesmawr)</b>Posted by GLADMAN<b>Bwlch yr Adwy (Ceulanamaesmawr)</b>Posted by GLADMAN<b>Bwlch yr Adwy (Ceulanamaesmawr)</b>Posted by GLADMAN<b>Bwlch yr Adwy (Ceulanamaesmawr)</b>Posted by GLADMAN<b>Bwlch yr Adwy (Ceulanamaesmawr)</b>Posted by GLADMAN<b>Bwlch yr Adwy (Ceulanamaesmawr)</b>Posted by GLADMAN<b>Bwlch yr Adwy (Ceulanamaesmawr)</b>Posted by GLADMAN<b>Bwlch yr Adwy (Ceulanamaesmawr)</b>Posted by GLADMAN

Pen Craig y Pistyll (Ceulanamaesmawr) (Round Cairn) — Images

<b>Pen Craig y Pistyll (Ceulanamaesmawr)</b>Posted by GLADMAN<b>Pen Craig y Pistyll (Ceulanamaesmawr)</b>Posted by GLADMAN<b>Pen Craig y Pistyll (Ceulanamaesmawr)</b>Posted by GLADMAN<b>Pen Craig y Pistyll (Ceulanamaesmawr)</b>Posted by GLADMAN<b>Pen Craig y Pistyll (Ceulanamaesmawr)</b>Posted by GLADMAN<b>Pen Craig y Pistyll (Ceulanamaesmawr)</b>Posted by GLADMAN<b>Pen Craig y Pistyll (Ceulanamaesmawr)</b>Posted by GLADMAN<b>Pen Craig y Pistyll (Ceulanamaesmawr)</b>Posted by GLADMAN<b>Pen Craig y Pistyll (Ceulanamaesmawr)</b>Posted by GLADMAN<b>Pen Craig y Pistyll (Ceulanamaesmawr)</b>Posted by GLADMAN<b>Pen Craig y Pistyll (Ceulanamaesmawr)</b>Posted by GLADMAN

Bwlch yr Adwy (Ceulanamaesmawr) (Round Barrow(s)) — Links

The cairn north of Bwlch yr Adwy

This one's so obscure I couldn't even locate a name for the hill top. Any ideas?

Pen Craig y Pistyll (Ceulanamaesmawr) (Round Cairn) — Links

Pen Craig y Pistyll, Pumlumon...

Just when a chap believed Pumlumon had revealed all its prehistoric secrets...

Carn Hyddgen (Pumlumon) (Cairn(s)) — Images

<b>Carn Hyddgen (Pumlumon)</b>Posted by GLADMAN

Pen Pumlumon-Arwystli Cairns (Cairn(s)) — Images

<b>Pen Pumlumon-Arwystli Cairns</b>Posted by GLADMAN<b>Pen Pumlumon-Arwystli Cairns</b>Posted by GLADMAN<b>Pen Pumlumon-Arwystli Cairns</b>Posted by GLADMAN<b>Pen Pumlumon-Arwystli Cairns</b>Posted by GLADMAN<b>Pen Pumlumon-Arwystli Cairns</b>Posted by GLADMAN<b>Pen Pumlumon-Arwystli Cairns</b>Posted by GLADMAN<b>Pen Pumlumon-Arwystli Cairns</b>Posted by GLADMAN<b>Pen Pumlumon-Arwystli Cairns</b>Posted by GLADMAN
Showing 1-50 of 12,903 posts. Most recent first | Next 50
Hi, I'm Robert ... with a passion for attempting to understand the lives of the pioneering prehistoric inhabitants of these British Isles, seeking out the remains they left behind in order to ask myself "why here ... why did it matter so... why such commitment?".. Needless to say, I'm still pondering such intangibles. Just as an empty house appears to retain echoes of past humanity... so does the stone circle, the chambered cairn, the long barrow and the mountain top funerary cairn. Visiting them, I think, helps engender a certain 'connection' with this land of ours, with ourselves - our past, our present and our future; a reference point for those of us perhaps struggling to make sense of this so-called 'computer world' Kraftwerk warned us was a'coming in 1981.... danke, mein herren.

In the unlikely event my posts provide inspiration for others to venture into the Great Outdoors, please bear in mind the hills and mountains of these Isles are unpredictable, potentially dangerous places. You are a fool if you do not suss out what you are letting yourself in for and ensure you have map/compass/waterproofs... and learn how to use them. Weather conditions can change bewilderingly quickly - even in high summer - so don't get caught out. Please engage with landowners wherever possible... being a cartoon 'class warrior' like Monbiot might be jolly good fun for the frustrated upper class 'rebel'... but not for those who follow in their footsteps. I find requests for access are rarely declined.

George Orwell - 'The essence of being human is that one does not seek perfection.'

Martin Gore - 'Like a pawn
On the eternal board
Who’s never quite sure
What he’s moved towards
I walk blindly on'...

Truman Capote - 'Failure is the condiment that gives success its flavour.'

Oscar Wilde - 'The true mystery of the world is the visible, not the invisible.'

John Lydon - 'It is a reward to be chastised by the ignorant.'

Winston Churchill - '“The farther backward you can look, the farther forward you are likely to see.”

Ultravox - 'Taking shelter by the standing stones
Miles from all that moves....'

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