Access through kissing gate. Well kept and smooth grass area around the markers.
Monday 15 September 2003
Ha! Got my head a lot further round it this time! For some reason (no other visitors, maybe) I could visualise and imagine the whole thing much better.
Was also able to spend a while spotting the other visible Avebury ‘monuments’ properly this time! Still missed the West Kennett Avenue which I didn’t realise you could see. (Thanks FourWinds! I’m in a huff now!)
Access I think the gate at the bottom of the track opposite Clatford Farm is OK, but it could be a kissing gate. Think the main gate might’ve been unlocked anyway though (sorry, I don’t seem to have had my useful-observation head on that day...!)
The walk is not terribly long (15 minutes for me and I’m reasonably fit) but the track is pretty rutted and often very muddy. The final part of the path is overgrown (not too badly this time...) and access to the field is over a (low) bit of a barbed wire fence/stile arrangement, so not very handy! The dolmen can be seen fairly clearly but not closely from the path.
Monday 15 September 2003
Nice to see the dolmen again, but without the strange (to me) chest high ‘bean-like’ crop it had in July. I do like this spot and could return again and again. It’s such a short walk I’ll probably come just about every time I visit Avebury!
Worth reporting that in common with some others, my friend John felt that the concrete ‘repairs’ spoil the site. It doesn’t really bother me that much. It’d be better if it had been done more subtly, but it’s such a nice place and a wackily distorted dolmen that I still like it very much.
Access as it’s in the middle of Marlborough College, the areas leading to the Mound are all pavement and tarmac. Other than if you want to climb the Mound it doesn’t necessitate any steps, unless you wanted to view it from the chapel that backs onto the road.
Monday 15 September 2003
Visiting for the second time (this time when the students/pupils were about) I get the impression that most people’d only stop you if you were acting exceedingly suspiciously. Walking purposefully probably helps as may (in this context) carrying a camera!
This time I had time to climb the mound, and as Baz has said it’s well worth it. It seems even bigger from the top, and apart from owt else, you can see the (from here, rather small) 19th century Marlborough White Horse.
Also had time this time to walk round the mound and found that there are some quite nice views of it from the side nearest the college churchy-thing.
Still a bit of a shame it’s covered in trees. And a hell of a shame it’s surrounded by the bl**dy college buildings! I’m surprised they didn’t build the college gym on top of it! (Ah, but then where’d they have put the water tank...?)
Access sorry to say I can’t really remember, but here are my vague impressions.... It’s got a big car park and I reckon you can have at least a bit of a look around without having to go up steps or over stiles.
There might possibly be a gate or 2 that could be a bit awkward for wheelchairs. The ground is certainly fairly uneven in places and being a hillfort, there are some reasonably steep bits. The one thing I DO remember is that the (pretty helpful) info boards about the fort & settlement are on a raised platform that I’m pretty sure can only be reached by steps.
Monday 15 September 2003
I’d better start by saying that I know even less about hillforts, settlements and enclosures the like than I do about other stuff. And I don’t regard myself as very knowledgeable about the other stuff!
I must admit that they don’t interest me as much. I’m sure I’m missing out, but try as I might I can’t find the same ‘glamour’ and ‘mystique’ as at a stone circle or stone row, a long barrow or dolmen.
I do like ‘em though!!!
Probably the least surprising and certainly the first thing that struck me was that the views are stunning – looking out as Crickley Hill does, over miles and miles of plain, the Severn Valley and on to the Malverns. (Yes, it has those boards to show you notable places in the landscape, otherwise I’d not have known what I was looking at....)
The earthworks of the enclosure are fairly impressive, but I have to say that the mounds and dips where the settlements were left me fascinated but bemused. Couldn’t really work out what was going on there, even with the help of the informative info boards. Perhaps it was just me.
I ended up simply enjoying wandering around for half an hour, looking and wondering. It’s good for you sometimes I think – much better than giving yourself a headache trying to get your head round stuff that just won’t sink in.
Certainly a highly significant and interesting place and I’m heartily glad to have been there! Wouldn’t mind going back for another look sometime.
Access slightly uncomfortable walk for a few yards north along the verge of the busy A169 before a right turn onto a metalled farm lane. A very short distance along this lane, the hill of Blakey Topping comes into view.
Continuing towards the hill and stone circle, the walk remains on metalled surface for the majority of the distance, with a couple of full width gates which I’m pretty sure were unlocked. Unfortunately, approaching the farm at the bottom of the hill the path leaves the metalled lane and makes a quick descent into pasture.
This descent would be very awkward for anyone with any walking difficulties, but it may well be worth asking at the farm.
Either way, the other side of the farm the walk continues on a small and reasonably steep grassy path up the side of a field next to forestry, to the ‘foot’ of the mound that is Blakey Topping itself.
From here you will probably be able to make out the stones of the circle, a short walk to the right along the top edge of this field.
Sunday 24 August 2003
The hill
Well, as I thought the first time I visited, I defy anyone who’s seen Silbury Hill not to immediately think of it when they first glimpse Blakey Topping from this direction. Big difference, of course is that it’s not man-made. But it’s nearly as weird and pretty much as striking and impressive!
It’s all the more impressive as you draw closer and descend into the valley at its foot, where a farm lies.
The sun was blazing and (it’s off-topic, but I just have to mention it) there were some absolutely beautiful horses grazing in the field that the path crosses by the farm. (Including a reasonably young foal.) I’m not usually all that much of a horse-fan, but the proportions of these beasts and the level of grooming were just spectacular.
The stone circle
The little stone circle on the slight ridge just below Blakey Topping and above the farm has a lovely feel to it. Incredibly peaceful – being so far from any roads. With the sheep happily munching their lunch, we decided to do likewise, and I can’t remember ever having a picnic in as pleasant a place.
We thought the circle might once have been bigger, but a couple of the remaining few stones didn’t seem as if they were in their original positions, judging from angles of the stones and their positions in relation to each other.
Just speculation and guesswork, but it looked to me like there might have once been as many as 8 or 10 stones forming a circle about the size of the Twelve Apostles of Ilkley Moor. But I could be way off!
Bloody hell! I just checked and Burl says 51ft. The 12 Apostles is 52ft….
Access can be seen from road. Park just outside church gate, which from memory, is average size, weight etc. Easy walk – a few yard across churchyard.
Sunday 24 August 2003
The biggest (tallest?) monolith in Britain wears a stupid hat. But I guess I’d rather the look of the stone is spoilt by a lead cover than by ruinous erosion!
Well, that aside, it’s pretty spectacular! Like one of the Devil’s Arrows after a run-in with a steak-tenderiser, the Rudston monolith is wafer-thin but slightly taller and maybe wider than the DAs. And peeping from under the lead tip, there are signs that it has weathered in a similar way.
Took me a while to decide, but I think it’d be marginally more impressive if the bloody christians hadn’t dumped their god’s gaff right next to it…!!!
Access right next to road. No walk etc.
Saturday 23 August 2003
Very odd. Approaching from the north, the first 2 stones I saw were ones with the holes in. As I’d thought when I noticed them on TMA the night before, they looked about as prehistoric as my 2 year old boy!!!
The tooling is much too noticeable, too angular and just, well, too for anything pre-iron age, surely?
They and a couple of the others did though, put me in mind of Long Tom on Fyfield Down near Avebury, which Julian refers to in the big papery TMA as an iron age waymarker.
And at least one other looks like it could be the real thing!
All that said, surely there’s no doubt what their function is nowadays? They’ve got to be waymarkers for the road when snowed under! (And so, in my opinion, whatever their age they’re unlikely to be in their original positions.)
No idea what the holes are for.
Access a fairly long and ‘fairly’ strenuous walk on a generally decentish path. No stiles gates etc. Moor could be boggy pretty easily.
Saturday 23 August 2003
Near Goathland, you can park safely on the edge of the road at around SE825108. The very edge of the moor here is a veritable network of paths, but within about 20 yards they start to define themselves better.
The one heading to the Two Howes starts off straight up onto the moor, past a ‘garden-type’ bench overlooking the edge of the moor, but you need an OS map really. Landranger’ll do fine though.
The path bears right towards a small tarn, and then left up further onto the moor. Soon you can see the mounds of the Two Howes, with their modern ‘piles of stones’-type cairns on top.
Really nice examples of (almost) complete cairns, though rather eroded – not least by people walking up onto the tops ‘for a look’….
Simon Howe and the ‘trig’ point next to the neighbouring ruined cairn are clearly visible to the south. Goathland looks very attractive some distance away, nestling in the valley more or less north of the Two Howes. The site also overlooks Howl Moor.
Access a fairly long and ‘reasonably’ strenuous walk on a generally decentish path, but with stiles, streams and gullies to cross, as well as the North Yorks Steam Railway track…. Moor could be boggy pretty easily too.
Saturday 23 August 2003
This is my kind of place. A picturesque and longish walk from the nearest road, the cairn(s) of Simon Howe were always likely to be popular with me! And when you get there, a beautifully ruined cairn, another (rather underwhelming) cairn, and to add definite icing to the cake, a 4 stone row….
Heading North on the A169, past the Hole of Horcum look out for a sharpish lefthand bend in a valley, crossing Eller Beck Bridge.
Luckily I spotted it early and was able to pull into a wide grassy lane on the left at SE857982. It’s not very driveable(!) but there’s plenty of room for parking before it narrows to a track and then to paths.
I walked up the lane for a very short distance and went straight on along a narrower but clear path as the lane bent left. This path soon bears right into a little valley, crossing a tiny muddy bit of low land with a stile. There may even be a stream at time.
Just past this point is the North Yorks Moors Steam Railway track. Keep an eye and ear open – you just might be lucky enough (or unlucky enough) to see a train pass. I did – and rather nice it was too.
I simply kept faith and followed this obvious path for a couple of miles across the moor until it reached the cairn. If you use the Landranger map, note that you do NOT have to leave this path to reach Simon Howe.
I really am developing a bit of a fetish for cairn kerbs, kerb-cairns and cairn circles! This ruined cairn certainly has what remains of a beautiful kerb!
Decent sized stones eased back from the perpendicular, leaning outwards at the top. A bit crown or crown of thorns-like – in this respect reminding me very slightly of my beloved Bryn Cader Faner.
Just to the NNW are the remains of a low flattened cairn with one stone stood at its edge. Looks like a remaining kerbstone to me. And between the cairns lies the 4 stone row!!! Two stones are fallen and one of the stones that remains standing is at a crazy angle.
And what a commanding position! To the north it is reasonably easy to make out the silhouettes of the Two Howes and to the west is Howl Moor.
For me Simon Howe has it all – the ‘journey’ the ‘monument’ and the setting. I loved it. (Didn’t even mind the grouse butt!)
Access a bit of a walk involving a climb some would certainly find strenuous. Starts on a metalled lane and continues on pretty good paths, but going can be a little rough. No stiles gates etc but the bit where you crest the crags onto the moor could be difficult for some people. Moor could be boggy pretty easily.
Saturday 23 August 2003
Heading west from Goathland, a modern standing stone marks the left turn to Hunt House. I parked at the point where a small lane ‘dog-leg’s back to the right, downhill towards the remains of the R*man road. This is also the point where the road proclaims itself private.
The lane leads down to Hunt House farm itself, then crossing a stream it bears right, uphill. Just as the track starts to level out to head for Wheeldale Lodge there is a fairly visible left fork that heads obliquely up the hill through the bracken and past some of the lower outcrops.
As it reaches the crags, there is a path to the left up onto the moor. Once onto the moor, from this path the plethora of fascinating stones are to the left, but they’ll be pretty obvious from just about anywhere on Howl Moor itself! There are loads of ‘em.
The bit that moggymiaow singled out on this website is certainly the clearest ‘something’ that I could see. And it certainly includes the most distinctly ‘standing’ stone.
Not absolutely sure it’s a stone circle though myself. Don’t get me wrong – it could be, though as 2 concentric circles I’m even less sure! What it is though is absolutely and definitely something!!!!
One of the reasons I’m a little sceptical about the circle is the sheer number of stones on the moor that look as if they’ve been ‘set’ by man (on edge, or on end) rather than just being erratics or outcrops or quarry spoil or whatever.
I didn’t count em but I reckon there must have been at least 20 – all scattered over this part of the moor – far too many for chance to have left standing on edge or on end.
And several of these ‘set’ stones can be traced into circular patterns with other stones, and there are often vague hints of slight embankment. And though I know a lot of stone circles are embanked, this could be a real ‘giveaway’ considering the proliferation of cairns in the area. (Both Simon Howe and Two Howes can be seen on the horizon.)
So I reckon it’s the remnants of a decent sized and very cool cairn cemetery. But what do I know? Go and see what you think! It’s a nice walk if nowt else!
Saturday 3 May 2003
The stones are on the left as you arrive on the Bernera side of the bridge from Lewis.
Well, if Margaret and Ron Curtis reckon it’s a circle then I guess it is, but it didn’t feel like one to me!
I suppose it’s because a substantial part of the circle has fallen to the sea and, even more importantly for visualisation of the original site, any embankment has fallen too.
But who cares when it’s in such a beautiful spot and features such beautiful and imposng stones anyway. Well, me actually – it’d be mind-boggling!
I didn’t have a go on the birthing stone….
Saturday 3 May 2003
This is a short drive from Calanais, along the B8011. The circle is visible to the west of the road after about a mile. Plenty of room to park on the verge on the opposite side of the road I think.
The stones stand out uphill from the road and can now be reached by a well looked-after path, newly refurbished when we visited.
Despite being uphill from the road, Ceann Thulabhaig still manages to nestle below the actual hilltop, but commands a wonderful view towards an inlet that lies directly between it and Callanish.
The hilltop once more features a ‘low-key’ equivalent of Cnoc an Tursa.
The stones are real big bouncing beauties, and it is interesting to see much more clearly than at the other ‘big’ sites where the peat has been cut away to expose more of the stones.
Another quite welcoming circle, to me, but I suspect it would change to be quite, wild, dramatic and even forbidding in bad weather (whereas, for example Cnoc Fillibhear Bheag would ‘just’ be inhospitable in bad weather – if you see what I mean).
And it is certainly an excellent place to have a breather in peace and to take stock of your day, week, month, year, life!
Saturday 3 May 2003
Known by us as ‘Gary’(!!) I’m afraid. Easily visible between Callanish and Cnoc Fillibhear Bheag (’Philippa’). Best approached from ‘Philippa’ (Cnoc Fillibhear Bheag) or via a lane from the main road at NB222330.
Another stunner! It’s something I know all us ‘stones’ people think from time-to-time, but I’m going to say it here – please forgive me: “I’d love to have seen this circle when it was complete”.
Rarely have I felt it so strongly, almost desperately. This must have been an incredible place, lying between 2 other incredible places (Callanish itself and Cnoc Fillibhear Bheag).
Nowadays the remains of the circle are reduced, for more casual viewers at least, to a ‘side attraction’ and are undeniably overshadowed by both these other sites. Yet much more than a trace of majesty remains in these strikingly-shaped stones that still stand, and my feeling is that it was once not so easily dominated.
Nearby is a small outcrop, in common with the other ‘main’ Callanish sites, echoing the Cnoc an Tursa at Callanish itself.
Saturday 3 May 2003
Easily visible from the A858 on the left approaching Calanais from Stornoway – just before a cattlegrid. Soon dubbed ‘Philippa’(!) for convenience I’m afraid.
What a place. I first visited before I got my feelings for Callanish itself sorted out. This was no bad thing, as it allowed complete appreciation of this stunning circle and its ‘special features’ – see a23’s fieldnotes for superbly expressed details!
To me, as well as the fascinating ‘phallus & triple goddess’ and ‘Sleeping Beauty‘ phenomena, the most striking thing was how beautifully proportioned the circle, its stones and its setting in the landscape are. To me it also felt particularly ‘open’ and welcoming.
Julian comments in the big papery TMA that Callanish itself can easily overshadow the nearby sites. (I don’t like calling them ‘satellite’ sites or any term that could belittle these wonderful places.) And he’s probably right. But that’s just a crying shame.
Yet to me, at Cnoc Fillibhir Bheag, Callanish does not truly dominate. It’s higher up, bigger and ‘more fancy’, true, but ‘Philippa’ is also raised well above the land between herself and Callanish, with the remains of Cnoc Ceann a’ Ghàrraidh lurking significantly more or less between the 2, on the low-lying moorland that separates them.
For me, the relationship between the 3 is intriguing.
Noteable is that like the other main ‘Callanish’ sites, there is a nearby ‘low-key’ equivalent of Callanish’s Cnoc an Tursa. There is also a very significant looking ‘v’-shaped gap in the hills looking south (in the centre of this picture).
Visited briefly again on Sunday 4 May, mainly to take more photos. Still in love with the place.
Saturday 3 May 2003
Well, where do I start? Probably like many people, with my expectations.
There is an element almost of confession here. This is one reason it has taken me nearly 2 months to write this. It’s now getting on for 4 months since I was actually there.
If you’ve reached here via my weblogs, you’ll know that this was a very special trip for me. Not only had I been longing to see the place for many years, but turmoil in my personal life had added an extra, emotional ‘charge’ that is unusual for me when visiting a site. And it lived up to every expectation. Eventually.
Right up until I turned the corner on the path from the visitors’ centre and saw the stones from anything other than a distance, everything was fine and my expectations were undented.
So, I turned the corner, and… I really can’t say whether it was the view approaching from that direction, or whether it was sheer weight of expectation, but I knew straight away… To my total astonishment, I just didn’t ‘get’ it.
All those years. All those miles… and I was just looking at some more rocks. A lot of rocks. A lot of beautiful rocks. But still ‘just’ a lot of rocks.
I was quietly mortified. I couldn’t even blame crowds – we saw maybe 3 people in the hour or so we spent there before I was happy (almost relieved) to go to Cnoc Fillibhir Bheag and Cnoc Ceann a’ Ghàrraidh.
Of course the setting is beautiful. Of course the place is spectacular. Of course the sheer number and sizes of the stones are massively impressive. Of course the stones are intriguing shapes and colours and textures.
But there was no feeling of inspiration or even reverence that I have felt at a few very special sites. No feeling of ‘homecoming’ or perhaps ‘belonging’ that I have felt at some sites. No real connection, no real understanding.
Sunday 4 May 2003
On my second visit, the following day, it began to dawn on me however – expectation and understanding were the whole problem for me. Before visiting most sites I read a little bit about them in fairly ‘analytical’ Burl (usually) type terms – maybe read a few comments on this website or in the big papery TMA.
With this limited preparation I don’t expect to understand them or connect with them. It’s just not normally an issue. If I do – great. If I don’t – I’ll have enjoyed seeing them anyway.
With Callanish though, there was a whole lot more – an entire chapter in Julian’s book. Various telly progs including Julian’s. And more recently, a couple of other books. I approached the place thinking (subconsciously) that I understood – that I knew what to expect. So when I didn’t I was confused, disappointed and bewildered.
This feeling of realisation increased steadily and luckily it was convenient to revisit regularly over the 3 days and I was able to discover Callanish as I actually see it – not as I expected to see it.
Seeing it with too many expectations was, for me like photos of the complete Callanish I from ground level. They never quite really show it. I’ve seen great pictures of it – there are some good ones on this site and I took some that I’m pleased with, but they still never quite do it.
It’s one of those places where I cannot see how a photographer can capture the full picture. The complexity and sheer number of stones makes it seem confusing in photos, yet makes perfect sense as you walk it on the ground.
Monday 5 May 2003
By my fourth and final visit (for now) I was happy. Right now at 11pm on Monday 18 August 2003, I could happily stand between the northern rows facing the circle and laugh and shout for joy. It’s awesome. Not a word I normally use. Ever.
Friday 2 May 2003
A clava cairn in a beautiful and peaceful setting next to a small stream (or was that just the rain?) not far from a small river.
If you’ve seen Clava Cairns, this is another one – on it’s own. If you haven’t, it’s a chambered cairn with a stone circle round it (11 stones?).
The top of the cairn including the capstone(s) is missing, but most of the chamber sides and rubble construction is in place.
Very nice.
(Nearby is the Mony Stone standing stone at NH372301.)
Wednesday 20 August 2003
I always forget how far it is from the White Wells car park at SE118470 to the 12 Apostles. It’s the approach I first read about, so it’s the approach I still use. I always reckon on about 20 minutes, but it’s always more like 35-40 minutes.
I’d certainly recommend an OS map for a first visit, but the 1:50,000 Landranger 104 does fine for finding the circle. If planing to investigate the moor more fully, I’d go for the 1:25,000 Explorer though.
From the car park, follow the metalled lane up the hill to the White Wells building and the toilets.
Follow the clear wide track as it zigzags between the buildings and starts its craggy, dramatic and strenuous ascent onto the moor itself. (I also always forget how steep this part is…. Maybe next time I’ll try coming from the Cow and Calf!!)
From here it’s more or less ‘follow your nose’ and the ‘straightest’ path until reaching a fork at around SE123454. Take the left fork, which briefly descends to ford a small gill.
The path then begins to climb fairly gently but I find that this final section does turn into rather a ‘drag’…. Parts of this section are on wooden walkways to cross boggier areas, but these could CERTAINLY use some repairs! Watch your feet!
As you reach the final crest onto pretty much the very top of the moor the circle comes into view, easily visible despite deep heather, on a slight but clear detour from the main path across the moor.
There are 12 stones. Or there were on this day. I’ve never seen it with more, but I’ve seen it with fewer!
“How so?” I hear from non-locals. Simply because there are actually 9 stones ‘in-situ’, but it’s rare that some enterprising soul or souls haven’t seen fit to add 2 or 3 extras to make up the 12….
Luckily they sensibly don’t (fingers-crossed) try to actually dig the impromptu stones in, but just use bits of rock to ‘wedge’ them upright. (They’re usually remarkably appropriate in size and shape too….)
I always forget how much I love this place. It’s right on the ‘roof’ of West Yorkshire and (on a reasonably clear day) commands excellent views for at least 135 degrees.
I also have to say that I find the proportions of the circle remarkably pleasing – the stones averaging around 3-4 feet high with a circle diameter of around 50 feet?
To me it’s typical Yorkshire. Down-to-earth and well-used – the paths are very well worn yet I’ve rarely seen anyone actually at the circle, and impressive without being ostentatious!!!
A wonderful circle to call your ‘local’….
By the way, in my edition of Burl, he says ‘nearly all’ the stones are down. So some restoration has gone on, probably since 1995.
Wednesday 20 August 2003
*Remember that the circle is marked as a cairn on both the Landranger and Explorer OS maps, but that such luminaries as Aubrey Burl regard it as a stone circle.*
Just at the north end of Threshfield we took the small (initially residential) ‘Skirethorns Lane’ to the west from the B6160, signposted to Wood Nook caravan site.
You can follow this lane well past the caravan site right onto the tops. It is increasingly narrow and in places steep, so take care! Park when you reach the first gate barring the lane – after perhaps as much as 3 miles. Or if you have time, park lower down and enjoy the walk!
From the small area where you can park just before the gate across the lane, the circle is visible a few hundred yards away. It is just to the left of the wall that leads off directly west across the moor. The lane itself bears slightly right (north) away from the wall.
The circle is probably fairly unimpressive on first sight, but really seems to grow in stature as you properly take it and its surroundings in. It’s not just me either. Everyone I take there seems to feel the same, unprompted!
The stones of the ‘errant Scottish 4 poster’ stand on a distinct embanked mound, probably around 2 feet above the surrounding field. As has been documented on this website, the SW stone is broken off and lies in the centre of the ‘circle’. The stone at the SE has had the mound cleared from its base, but still stands solidly.
Interestingly, the mound extends further out to the south east to reach a large stone that lies recumbent.
Whether this stone was ever anything to do with the circle is unlikely. But the extension of the mound looks to either be the earth removed from the base of the SE stone, or to suggest that the embankment actually originally extended a good 10 feet or more from the circle stones, at least to the south.
The weather was much cooler and the general atmosphere considerably ‘wilder’ than on my last visit with Jane. (See her fieldnotes).
Still a fantastic spot though!!! The very openness of the land really shows how visible even such a diminutive circle would’ve been for some distance – especially if the drystone walls were absent!
I’d forgotten but Burl relates that the name comes from the legend that 2 of the stones once had a lintel stone, making them form a tiny trilithon. It seems highly unlikely, but is a nice thought to bear in mind when looking at the stones!
Wednesday 20 August 2003
For finding the circle, I strongly recommend the OS Explorer 1:25,000 map. Even with this map I found the point where the footpath and farm track split a little disorientating.
This point is particularly important, as the circle is on the moorland directly to the east of the footpath – the opposite side to the farm. In fact, as the Explorer map shows, the circle is directly in line with a farm wall at right angles to the path.
This wall is the one that links the farm lane as it leads slightly downhill towards the farm and the fieldwall that the runs northwards alongside the left (west) of the path.
If you stand on the path at the corner of these 2 walls, facing ENE, imagine where the wall that descends the short distance to the farm lane would go if it continued across the path to the ENE.
Follow that line by sighting on the hillside in front (still ENE) and after around 100-150 yards I guess, you should see the indistinct and low-lying circle stones.
Beware, however! As I found to my cost, should you go too far or wander slightly off course through the heather, you will find that the whole moor is a Pandora’s Box of intriguingly laid out erratics!!! I spent a good half an hour and half a film finding and photographing what I call ‘Isthatit’ rocks….
Eventually with time running short, I returned to the fieldwall, reset myself, concentrated hard on keeping straight and walked directly to the circle, which is pretty unmistakable once you find it. (Aren’t they always!)
All that remains of the circle is 4 or 5 low stones just visible through thick heather. At least 2 of the stones are easily identifiable though by the fact that they are distinctly set on end with their faces facing the inside of the circle.
The area of the circle is also on a slight embankment, visible at the moment by the fact the heather is even higher!!!! (Just marginally.)
Clear the heather and you’d probably have the remains of a nice little, typically understated, Yorkshire circle – quite like the Appletreewick stone circle – my former bête noir – see my notes on the relevant page…!
Like Appletreewick, it includes one large boulder that looks as if it could be naturally occurring and used as part of the circle....
Visited around June 1998
Just as we pulled up at the point on the small country road nearest to the circle, it began to drizzle despite the bright sunshine.
We headed across a field in the direction of the circle, but the rain drove my (less megalithacentric) companions back to the car.
I continued uphill, becoming drenched but focused on skirting the fields leading to the circle. Once I sighted the circle I was so wet that there was no way I was going to turn back!
This circle is fairly ‘knocked about’, with several of the stones leaning at various angles and a couple fallen. I must admit that to me that just added to the attraction, making the circle feel more ‘real’, more ‘used’, more ‘ancient‘.
As I reached the far side of the circle I turned to look back the way I’d come and was rewarded with the sight of a vivid rainbow arcing perfectly above it....
10 August 2003
We drove through Reeth up into the bottom of Arkengarthdale and parked around NZ027006, on the verge by the track to Castle Farm. We followed the track down to the river amongst trees (beautiful spot).
Across a bridge, back out into the now blazing sun and up the gentle slope towards the farm buildings.
In the fairly small enclosure to the right of the further farm house (Castle Farm itself according to the map), you can immediately see the ‘orthostatic’ walls of upright stones that the more modern walls seem to have been built onto – if I understand correctly.
As I know absolutely NOTHING about the subject, I suggest you read Brigantesnation’s fieldnotes.
Just to the left (north west) of the farm buildings is a stand of trees, on a bank littered with massive rocks, presumably from field clearance.
At the bottom of the bank where you approach it from the path leading along the valley, is a kind of ‘kerb wall’, possibly related to the orthostatic walls Brigantesnation talks about, or perhaps just a more modern effort to support the bank. We sat in perfect peace for a good few minutes before the walk (mainly uphill!) back to the car.
10 August 2003
I can’t believe how unknown this place is, despite being right on the Dales Way alongside the Wharfe. But I’m glad.
And the OS will have helped by seemingly having removed it from the 1:25,000 Explorer – my friend John is sure it was on the previous 1:25,000 of the area! (And I’m sure it’s never been on the Landranger.)
The position is beautiful, and having previously visited, I have to say it has a wonderfully open and light atmosphere on a sunny day, but it’s worth a visit in any weather!
Being a cairn circle, it’s certainly not a stone circle in the ‘true’ sense, but if you want a picturesque but accessible and peaceful circle of stones to sit and chill at, look no further.
Because of showery weather and time constraints, we parked by the road on the opposite (west) side of the river and leapt and splashed across. But it is vastly preferable to park near Yockenthwaite farm, cross the Wharfe by the bridge and turn left (north west) along the Dales Way for 10 or 15 minutes or so….
Back in the car we watched the ‘world’ passing the circle by for a while, wondering what the walkers and cyclists would have thought had they known what they were passing….
The circle is easy to spot from the road, but only if you know roughly where to look and what you are looking for.
If you don’t have time or inclination to walk from Yockenthwaite, drive west with the river on your right. Keep an eye on the wall separating the river from the fields on the far bank. The circle is right next to a place where the wall has (mysteriously?) tumbled….
Be prepared for damp toes unless you want to spend a goodly amount of time looking for a really dry crossing point!
*Also see weblog More Moth meanderings (starring the squid family).*
10 August 2003
Got here at the fourth attempt in about 2 years, having thrashed about within a few yards of the damn thing on every single previous occasion….
Well worth all the trouble it was though! A distinct circle of stones including one pretty big boulder, which looks as if it’s possibly in the position where it was found by the ancients, with the other stones placed to make a circle….
This is the ‘inner’ circle of what is allegedly 2 concentric rings.
The outer ring, however, is so irregular and ruined that I don’t think I’d have suspected it if I hadn’t known in advance – especially as the whole area is littered with ‘random rocks’. John and I spent some time pacing out distances to surrounding rocks and to be honest, remain slightly sceptical.
Ironically, the site did remind me very faintly of the double concentric ring I’d visited the day before, the Druid’s Circle of Ulverston. This had more to do with its size and atmosphere than the possibility of a double circle though.
Well, who cares? Single ring or double, the setting overlooking 3 dales is beautifully remote and infinitely calming. It won’t be long until I’m back now I know where it is!
10 August 2003
I went up to this one following Fitzcoraldo’s comments... and am in WHOLEHEARTED agreement.
Just my opinion, but if this really is what the OS has marked as a hut circle, all I can say is “is it HELL a hut circle “!
We all know the OS are flawed on this sort of thing – stone circles marked as cairns (Druid’s Altar to name but one), cairns marked as stone circles, you name it….
I was accompanied by my mate John, a man not easily impressed with ‘alleged sites’, having like most of us here, seen plenty of stones. He thought it was a stone circle too.
That’s 2 more necks out with yours Fitz!
The circle stands on a slight platform and is much wider than any hut circle I’ve ever seen or heard of. It shows no signs of ever having been even vaguely contiguous, which for me pretty much says it isn’t a cairn circle either.
Some of the stones aren’t firmly seated and may possibly not be in their proper positions, but some have what looked like very clear packing rubble and stones around them. Looks pretty damn authentic to me.
As well as the impressive ‘earthwork’ nearby, there are also what we thought looked like a few ruined cairns on the way to the circle.
To find the circle, we approached from Leyburn, heading for Grinton. Descending towards Grinton, we took a left turn signposted (I believe) to Redmire, a short distance after passing Grinton Lodge on the right.
This road goes gently uphill and pretty soon there is a sharpish bend left at approximately SE044974, by a barrier gate onto the moor. We parked here.
A track heads WSW onto the moor. We found that the simplest thing to do was to follow this until it crosses a small stream called Grovebeck Gill just after passing a fence leading off to the right. Cross the stream and leave the path to the right and follow the fence, leading just about north.
You will soon come to a very clear and quite spectacular earthwork ditch and bank. Follow the earthwork left (WNW) and where it peters out, continue straight on, along a projected line from the earthwork.
On the nearest crest almost exactly in front of you should immediately or soon see the outline of some small rocks. That is the circle.
Oh, and by the way, try not to jump out of your skin when the grouse shoot out of the undergrowth! I reckon I lost a good few minutes off my life….
9 August 2003
This was only the second time I’ve been to Long Meg, though it has to be said that there aren’t many sites I’ve been to more than once – there’re too many ‘new’ ones to see!
I must admit I’d forgotten just what a high profile site this is and, stupidly, I was a bit shocked, for a moment at least, to see other people there!
Luckily of course the circle is more than big enough to swallow up a few sets of visitors without it being a problem. It helped that all the visitors that came and went while we were there looked very interested in the stones and the site rather than just wandering around in the disinterested way you sometimes see.
This is such a beautiful site, despite the metalled farm road through it. I can’t imagine ever becoming used to its sheer size and general impressiveness. I got exactly the same feeling as my other visit, around 8 years ago – it seems a particularly peaceful spot.
No, that’s not right Little Meg is peaceful, Long Meg is… calm, if you see the difference. I know what I mean.
Tombo’s ‘zen cows’ were still in evidence.
9 August 2003
I’d never visited Little Meg before, as when I went to Long Meg before (around 8 years ago), I was only just becoming interested in stones. Having only used a road atlas to find Long Meg, I didn’t even know Little Meg existed.
Since first reading of Little Meg I’ve been expecting to visit but had never yet made it. The theory about the origin of the site as a barrow was particularly interesting I thought. We left Long Meg and her Daughters following the hedge away from the circle, to the right of the farm road, roughly north east.
Littlle Meg is in the next field you come to on the right. Go through the (new-looking) gate and keep right, heading towards the edges of 2 separate stand of trees. Even in long grass the stones are evident.
And as for the theories, it certainly doesn’t look much like an actual stone circle. Especially not a typical Cumbrian stone circle!!! Pretty difficult to see it as a ruined barrow either though!
As someone has previously remarked, it could easily be taken for field clearance, albeit field clearance made of significant rocks! I guess as it is generally accepted as a ruined barrow, the stones just happen to have ended up in particularly non-barrowy positions!
Whatever, the stones occupy a gorgeously out of the way spot of remarkable peace and tranquillity. And the spirals on the decorated stone really are stunning – and that from someone who doesn’t usually ‘get’ rock art….
9 August 2003
I’ll never get over the setting here. The circle itself is too spectacular and wonderful for words but is still completely overwhelmed by the natural beauty of the surrounding hills.
When we arrived the circle was teeming with people, but luckily, over the half an hour or so we stayed, they gradually dissipated and for the last 10 minutes there were only a few left.
The first time I went I was lucky enough to have the place virtually to myself and I think I’ve avoided revisiting fearing the crowds…but I found it much less off-putting than I expected.
I’m tempted to wish Castlerigg was harder to get to, but that wouldn’t be fair would it? Everyone should see this place. The circle’s actually just a (big) bonus…! This is one hell of a special place and I have to admit I’d kind of forgotten that because of its popularity and the crowds. I’ll not forget it again.
9 August 2003
Like a lot of people, this place used to remind me a lot of Castlerigg. Until visiting them in quick succession on Saturday that is. Maybe it was because when I first visited Sunkenkirk it had been a good few years since I was at Castlerigg...maybe not.
They’re certainly not dissimilar in some ways, but on Saturday I felt I’d been oversimplifying things by drawing such a strong parallel. There’s also a definite Rollright parallel in the proximity of the stones to each other.
The setting here is beautiful, but not half as stunning as Castlerigg when put in direct comparison. Even in sunny weather I find Castlerigg’s setting awe-inspiring, whereas with all but pretty forbidding conditions Sunkenkirk feels relatively welcoming to me and almost enclosed.
In good weather it would be possible for me to spend hours here, even alone (not something I feel very often), but at Castlerigg in similar conditions I can’t imagine spending more than about an hour at the most, leaving aside the irritating stream of people.
The circle itself is undeniably reminiscent of Castlerigg in size and style, but without the well-known internal setting. It does add a couple of external stones marking a probable entrance. Yet to me it seems to nestle in its field and embrace you, while Castlerigg stands bold but dwarfed on its open ground and you never truly feel inside.
Both wonderful places but certainly to me invoking very different feelings and atmospheres. I could happily visit Sunkenkirk every day.
9 August 2003
As we approached the site I was disappointed to see that the haze would mean that the usually beautiful views of Morecambe Bay would not be visible. In fact Bardsea and its church on their raised platform could barely be seen, never mind the bay itself.
The consolation though was that in more or less the opposite direction, the sun was just starting to set and bathing the white stones of the circle in a beautifully subtle (but apparently unphotographable) orange tint. The sky was photogenic though!
This visit confirmed that this is a lovely site and a perfect peaceful and picturesque end to the tour. I can’t agree that it doesn’t seem genuine and if it has been restored at all (and I don’t think it has) I can’t find much fault with it. Other than that if they were restoring it, why didn’t they do the outer circle too?!!
Admittedly I’ve visited both sites before, but I have to say that I didn’t find it an anticlimax after Sunkenkirk. No disrespect to anyone, but the sites are so different that there is no comparison. To me it’s like comparing, I don’t know… Arbor Low to Doll Tor.
Thursday 1 May 2003
The ‘tumulus’ of Pitnacree is described in the ‘big papery’ version of TMA with no pics, and is lumped in with Lundin Farm. No photos here yet – I’ll have to get a scanner….
I’m not big on barrows, but it’s a fairly small rounded mound with fairly tall thin trees and a standing stone on top of it. (What a professional sounding description that one is….) Or perhaps CANMORE does it better…
rcahms.gov.uk/canmore/details_gis?inumlink=26384
Sunday 27 July 2003
I went up to Adam’s Grave first. If you’ve read my ‘fieldnotes’ on that you’ll know it rendered me practically speechless.
Knap Hill is hardly less spectacular, but without the barrow on top.
It somehow also felt less wild though. Both hills and the car park between were busy, but several people sat up here for some time, whereas nobody stayed on top of Adam’s Grave for long while I was there….
The views from both just go on forever. Sorry to repeat a cliché but it’s true. And from Knap Hill you can see the Adam’s Grave barrow properly. It’s strange and very impressive from here.
It must be really mind-boggling if you know the area well and can spot places you know. I’m still in awe over a week later.
Sunday 27 July 2003
WOW.
Sorry. Just WOW!
Read all the other fieldnotes. They say it better than I can. Or read my Knap Hill fieldnotes which have a tiny bit more substance than this one!
But if I’d gone up Knap Hill first, I think that would’ve just been ‘WOW!’ instead….
Sunday 27 July 2003
Coming from the Sanctuary, I reached East Kennett village and took a right turn. I parked just down from the church and walked up the lane and through Manor Farm, joining a bridlepath up the hill to the west. The tree topped East Kennett Long Barrow was clearly visible to my left.
After a very short distance an overgrown but obvious track appears on the left, leading alongside the ‘top’ edge of the field where the long barrow stands.
As the path reached the field the barrow is in, there was no hedgerow or fence and the crop had nice wide, deep and clear tractor tracks.
I decided that should anyone disapprove, if I hustled along, the chances of me being spotted were slim. (I’ve now read that it’s best to ask permission, so if I go again I will!)
Two minutes later I was on the north west end of the barrow amongst the trees. Reaching the top I soon found my way barred by impenetrable undergrowth thick with stinging nettles. I don’t think I could’ve forced my way through, even if I hadn’t been wearing shorts, As it was – no way!
I made my way back down to the foot of the barrow and turned right, along it’s north east side. It was a struggle to make my way without damaging the crop and without stinging myself to death on the nettles that also line the edge of the barrow.
Reaching the south west end of the long barrow I found that there is actually some space to stand and look at this end. This ‘felt’ like the ‘front’ of the barrow, though I have no idea whether it is or not.
I couldn’t see the chamber stones that apparently protrude at this end, but the vegetation was rampant, and once again of the stinging kind. Winter visit?
Sunday 27 July 2003
The barrows stand dignified and proud next to the busy A4 and the sunny Sunday afternoon bike-bustle of the Ridgeway. The three barrows featured in most pictures seem clearly to be the ‘tip of the iceberg’ here.
Julian remarks in TMA there were once maybe 12, and as you look on it’s easy to believe and visualise. Given the relatively short distance to an ‘outlying’ barrow to the north and the interestingly-shaped ‘tumuli’ nearby, I’d not be surprised if it was more.
Sunday 27 July 2003
Just as enigmatic as I expected. After only a few minutes I decided it was too complex for me to get my head round, especially with other people wandering about. Need to sit down & read about it onsite and ‘sans tourists’.
As a vantage point for spying out the landscape it’s superb.
And worth spending time at for both reasons!
Sunday 27 July 2003
I know many people regard this stone as a kind of (un?)holy grail. And it wasn’t exactly easy to find, even though I had gleaned a fair amount of information and hints from a few different sources.
Reading about it, it seems a very special place and I was very ‘keyed up’ about trying to find it, with slight misgivings about whether I’d be disappointed.
So is it worth the effort or is the chase better than the catch?
When I first approached the stone, I didn’t think it was the one. It seemed smaller than in photos I’d seen and the way I approached, the corner with the grooves was farthest from me.
When I spotted the grooves I could hardly believe how insignificant the much sought-after stone looked....
BUT, the very moment my fingers traced the grooves, feeling how incredibly smooth they are worn, I felt a sudden connection to the people who used the stone to sharpen their tools and weapons.
And I’m not someone who usually feels that kind of ‘nonsense’! For me, that in itself means this is a very special place.
How many people must have sharpened how many tools and weapons how many times to wear such long and relatively deep grooves in such hard rock?
(A question I couldn’t help keep coming back to as I sat and pondered the stone is actually kind of banal, and will surely never be answered – why this stone…?)
Sunday 27 July 2003
As Julian suggests in the big papery TMA, I parked on the left of the A4 at the entrance to Clatford Farm, on the verge in front of the farm sign on the west side of the entrance. I had to take care crossing the busy road to the beginning of the track at map ref SU158688.
After about 15 or 20 minutes the Devil’s Den came into view near the bottom of the gentle slope up to the left. As vegetation was thick, I missed the path where it forks left from the track 20 yards or so before the dolmen. The path itself was fairly overgrown and the dolmen in crop.
I slowly and gently made my way through the crop. Judging from the mess in places though, I guess others hadn’t been quite so careful.
I love dolmens (!) and this dolmen is everything I expected, despite the slightly dodgy restoration or repairs. Having not visited France, Ireland, Wales, Cornwall or Devon for some time, it felt quite odd to be looking at a dolmen. But good!
Photographic opportunities were limited by the thick crop, but I enjoyed the peace of the site and felt fortunate not to be disturbed.
As I walked around the dolmen a couple of times with my camera, its positioning in the valley seemed unusual, as I now see Rhiannon has remarked on this site. It’s placing did however remind me slightly of Lambourn Seven Barrows that I had visited the day before.
Sunday 27 July 2003
Having followed the signs into the visitors car park, I was now to the west of the college. Out of the car, I turned to look at the college and noticed that there were some unfeasibly high treetops towering over the buildings.
Knowing that there are trees on the Mound, I headed between the buildings and was soon standing beside the mound.
What a monster!!
And what a bizarre setting it has in the present day! It really is ‘squished in’ amongst the college buildings, almost giving the impression that should it decide to flex its muscles it would just sweep the encroaching buildings away.
The buildings make the mound difficult to photograph, but at the same time make for some interesting juxtapositions…. And I’m not even going to mention the irritating ‘faux’ standing stones etc ‘littering’ the college grounds….
Reckoned to be a close relative of Silbury Hill the Mound is very impressive once you manage to really see it and to ignore the nearest college buildings and the trees growing from the mound itself. According to most sources it is definitely the second biggest manmade mound in Europe after Silbury.
Unfortunately, it’s actual purpose seems to be even more mysterious than Silbury’s, and surely it simply wouldn’t be big enough to play a similar role to Silbury in any landscape of special significance that once existed here?
Even though it’s huge and second only to Silbury, it’s actually pretty tiny in comparison to Silbury itself, so any parallel may be limited at best.
Yet on the other hand I couldn’t help speculating. If it truly is next biggest to Silbury, so close to Silbury, and of a similar age to Silbury, could they have had purposes in common?
Maybe it’s fanciful, but get rid of the town, make the mound white with chalk as Silbury was, see it from the surrounding ancient paths. Could it have ‘worked’?
Wonder if it was bare white chalk ….
I wrote the above before checking the big papery TMA. It turns out that on pages 78-9 Julian actually says something quite similar, but written (as is Julian’s tendancy) as if it is proven fact. Perhaps it is. I was going to delete my musings but then I thought ‘well, not everyone has the book….‘As far as arranging visits is concerned, Baza’s ‘Sunday visit’ tactic certainly worked for me at about 9.45am – absolutely nobody about to object to the fact that I hadn’t got permission….And he says it WAS chalk.
26 July 2003
Fascinating site. Such a mixture of different sized and shaped barrows. And not set out in any pattern, yet seeming to fit together somehow…. Or maybe that’s just me.
For some reason I can’t quite put my finger on, photographs of this site have always particularly appealed to me. And I wasn’t disappointed. It nestles near the bottom of the eastern side of a wide yet sheltered, gently sloping valley. I wouldn’t personally use the word ‘dell’ as Treaclechops did in her fieldnotes, it seems more ‘open’ to me than what I would call a dell. No matter. A very pleasant place.
After spending 20 minutes or so walking up and down between the barrows I took a few photos from various angles, but didn’t feel they were really ‘working’. I meandered along the track up the hill past the barrows, but still couldn’t find a view I was happy with, so I wandered back.
Studying the mounds for a few moments I looked around and behind me noticed that the very far corner of the field on the other side of the track gets up quite high.
The elevation looked like it might give a good shot with a big lens on, so nipping across a handy and sizeable gap in the fence, I strode round the edges of the field pausing only to pick up and study the odd bit of interesting looking flint. I soon gave that up when I realised just how many bits there were and matched that up with my lack of experience of worked flint!
Before I knew it I was in the top corner of the field and, fitting my 300mm lens, I had he shot I wanted…. Very satisfying! I’ve posted it here.
26 July 2003
Up the hill, passing the magnificent Uffington Castle enclosure or fort on my right, I reached the Ridgeway and followed it west for a short distance until a bridlepath appeared on the left.
Orientating myself with the wooded land marked on the map and what I could see on the land, I followed the slightly overgrown path for about half an hour at a pretty brisk pace.
This brought me to the twisting ribbon of woodland right beside the barrow cemetery.
A short distance across the down I could see what looked like the top of a barrow largely hidden by a dip perhaps. Ah. No dip. Not the TOP of the barrow then? The whole thing? Uh-huh.
Making a shape a bit like a little flying saucer sitting on the grassy plain, Idlebush Barrow itself looks to me to have been fairly denuded at some stage. Its outer edge is a very low embankment, with the small mound (less than 20 feet across, at a guess) rising only about 5 feet up from it. (Sorry if these guesstimates are way out, but what I’m trying to say is it’s pretty small!!)
A little further on across the down is another barrow, this time almost completely ploughed out, but enhanced (or at least made more noticeable by the long reedy grass it is covered by. It is just about possible to make out a slight embankment surrounding it.
I’ve posted some photos of both. Retracing my steps and bearing west toward the strip of trees, I went back past both barrows looking for a ‘tumulus’ (another barrow really) marked on the map that I had missed.
Well, if it’s there, I missed it on the way back too, and it must be virtually invisible. I suspect that to most non-experts like myself, it is effectively ploughed out.
A word of warning. Although they still look far from impressive, somehow my photos actually manage to make the barrows look more appealing than they seemed at the time…. Don’t get your hopes up!
25 July 2003
These stones really are very difficult to spot from the B4022 and it isn’t until you take the turn off right beside the wrecked burial chamber that you can see them. Even then they don’t exactly leap out at you with the trees wearing their summer foliage!
The stones retain a power and atmosphere of their own despite being so ruined that I found it difficult to picture the site as a burial chamber and without the trees. Can’t honestly say I could even see the orientation myself without looking it up.
25 July 2003
Approaching Chiddington from the east, I turned right for Dean. Arriving at Dean, there is a bench set on a verge, where I took an immediate left. After a good few hundred yards this lane bends fairly sharply right (you can see where I mean even on a road atlas).
Right where the road turns there is a footpath signposted heading more or less straight on across the fields. Parking here would have been inconsiderate so I carried on to the next junction and was pleased to see that if I turned right (continuing a loop back towards Dean) there was a small layby.
Walking along the lane back to the footpath described, I realised I could see the Hawk Stone projecting above the horizon on my right. I simply followed the path and couldn’t miss the stone, standing alone in deep crop.
Luckily, distinct tractor tracks enabled me to cross the crop to the stone itself, though photographic opportunities were limited. I still took several pictures hoping that what remained of the interesting cloud formations would add to the atmosphere, but alas, it proved too late.
Deeply textured and looferlike in it’s surface – in a similar way to the stones of the Rollright Stones, King Stone and Whispering Knights etc, the single stone is also a bizarrely shaped beastie. (See Rhiannon’s ‘Folklore’ post on the Hawk Stone page.)
This is one of those single stones that in my opinion calls into question Aubrey Burl’s assertion that single standing stones were usually originally part of a bigger setting. I find it difficult to reconcile the size and proportions of the stone with a burial chamber, yet neither does it fit the style of the Rollrights circle.
Perhaps it’s one of the exceptions. It certainly looks right on its own and I couldn’t imagine how it would look any other way.
25 July 2003
Like Kammer, a look at the map showed me the shorter and simpler path from the west up to Belas Knap. Encouraged by his fieldnotes and in view of the weather conditions I drove round the lanes to the north of the long barrow, through the farmyard at the end of the tarmac and up the unmade lane.
All was just as Kammer describes but it is a measure of my mood having bumped the car earlier, that I drove that far. If reasonably practical I usually leave the car outside farms and go and ask permission, walking from the farm!!!
As I pulled up at the bottom of ‘Kammer’s path’ I found it now has a signpost, so I knew I’d got it right. Which was a relief.
Kind of bigger than I expected, it must have been a long time since I read a description, as I had forgotten (if I ever knew) about the chambers being ‘open’ through the sides of the barrow. Though I did remember that the apparent ‘main’ entrance was a classic ‘falsie’.
After rolling around on the wet ground photographing the low lintelled south-eastern chamber, I stood up and just took in the scene. For the first time, the day was living up to my expectations fully. The frustrations of Inchbrook were forgotten as I stood in perfect peace. Not a soul….
25 July 2003
No ice cream van in evidence today in the filthy weather, I soon realised that I had misread the Landranger as to where the barrow is. As you drive up the short entrance road to the car park, the barrow is on your right as you turn left into the car park proper.
I drove round the car park (one car in residence) and parked as close as I could to the barrow. I still got drenched. In almost any other place this would be a nice enough example of a long barrow, with just enough of it left to make it easy to visualise. But other than out of convenience or completism (guilty) with Hetty Pegler’s Tump just next door, there’s not really much reason to bother.
The picnic area probably has nice views on a clear day and you could enjoy a nice ice cream though. I wouldn’t know – couldn’t see for the mist and rain….
25 July 2003
Spotting the signpost for Hetty’s pseudonym ‘Uley Long Barrow’ on the right, I pulled into the tiny layby, discovering that at the moment at least there is a nice flat piece of grass just inside the field behind where it looked as if people had been parking.
I parked the car and got out. In the time it took me to put on my coat I was pretty damp. I walked a couple of hundred yards in the direction the signpost pointed but the path petered out.
Retracing my steps twenty yards or so, I noticed a slight gap in the hedgerow that had been on my left and was now on my right (if you see what I mean). I stepped through and, as I hoped, to my right stood the long barrow which had been hidden from my sight by dense summer vegetation and filthy weather!
Oh for a sunny day to visit! This must be a pretty wonderful place when the water isn’t seeping down your jeans and you don’t have to have your camera stuck inside your jacket, digging in your chest.
I just managed to keep my knees clear of the growing puddle as I squeezed through the entrance into the central passage. Immediately I’d got in I realised I’d done it again…. I’d left my torch in the bloody car!!!!
I knew from experience that this would probably also scupper my chances of getting decent photos as I wouldn’t be able to focus in the dark….
Squatting in the now dampening chamber I could immediately make out the layout and construction of the passage, the remaining chambers on the left (south) and where the destroyed chambers would have been on the right (north).
As my eyes became accustomed to the dark, the light seemed just good enough that I tried focusing manually and fired off a couple of decent shots. (I haven’t uploaded them as they are too similar to the pictures already included on the relevant page of this website.)
I love seeing ruined barrows and burial chambers, but there really is nothing quite like being able to get inside these things! I often refer to ruined ones being like a ‘cutaway’ or ‘exploded’ diagram, but as the stones of the passage and chambers are visible from inside you still get a clear picture of the construction.
It’s especially nice to find the peace and feeling of well-being which seems, from comments on this site, to be universally felt here. I even sat in the blackness of the south-eastern chamber for a few minutes, unusual for me – not because of any misgiving about the dark, but because I’d usually rather be moving and looking and poking!
25 July 2003
Regulars will know that I voiced strong reservations about Kapoor’s piece of art. Not from an artistic, aesthetic or conceptual point of view, but from the point of view of someone seeing the Rollrights for the first or only time – visiting from abroad perhaps.
My thinking was that if I’d arrived at say ‘La Table des Marchants’ for my only visit (probably) ever, and found a big chrome blob in the middle of it, I’d have been irritated, annoyed or even upset.
So was I right? Or were the more artistically minded folk around these parts right?
Well. Ahem. Let’s just say I stayed for an hour and took a few photos. Just the 19….
The ‘sculpture’, if that’s really the right word, is somehow unobtrusive, despite being quite big and finished with brightly polished chrome! I guess it’s because the Rollrights is a pretty large circle.
Yet it draws you in. And you find yourself playing games – looking at the reflected stones, trees and countryside. Watching the clouds. Watching the light change. Looking at your own reflection. Standing up. Squatting down. Walking away. Walking back up to it. And great fun to try to capture all this on film!!!
The weather for my visit also made the experience particularly interesting. The sky was dull as I arrived and the chrome looked almost dirty. I quickly realised though that it was actually just refraction of the dull sky from the tiny water droplets left on the highly polished surface by the rain.
As the sun emerged, the whole character of not only the circle, but the sculpture too, changed in unity. The previously dull metallic ‘blob’ was now dazzling with intense reflected sunlight, still refracted by the tiny rain droplets. Stunning.
Count me as a convert. But there wasn’t a quintessential dichotomy in sight. Unless it was behind one of the stones.
I believe it’s still there for a few more days. GO!!!
Sunday 13 July 2003
Out of the car we turned our attention to the left of the road from Birchover towards Stanton in Peak. As we walked up to the second layby (on the left) we immediately spotted the Andle Stone in its dinky enclosure.
We were soon standing at the foot of this benign monster. The big papery version of TMA says it’s 15 ft long, by 10 ft wide and 10ft high. Pah! Pah! and thrice Pah! with multiple exclamation marks!!!!!
The proportions sound about right, but absolutely NO WAY is it that small! You can call me Susan if it’s not so. As Droood remarks in his fieldnotes, you need to stand on the pile of rocks to even reach the first handhold! And John’s over 6 ft!
Julian must have had on some serious platforms that day!!!!
I reckon it’s more like 17 or 18 ft high. Possibly more than 20 ft. It was more than high enough for me to give the climb a miss and for John to just climb up the side but not get on top!
It commands a beautiful view of the wide valley to the north-west. Blessed with such a clear and sunny day, we were spellbound.
Retracing our steps from Doll Tor stone circle later, John and I were both so invigorated that we took our courage (!) in both hands and climbed the Andle Stone after all. And WOW!!!! Is it worth it?!!!!!! Hell yeah!
Sod the cupmarks (sorry) and Victorian etc graffiti… FEEL that view and sense of importance!!!!! The extra elevation and adrenaline add so much…
BUT, a word of warning: unless you’re pretty confident with heights, don’t do it! Certainly not on your own! The turn back over the edge to climb down is very awkward, as it’s very difficult to see over the edge and know what you are doing.
With us, John went first, and although he had to negotiate his own ‘sticky’ moment or 2, was able to help direct me from below. But it was extremely touch-and-go as far as this Moth freezing solid with fear is concerned!!!!!
Definitely plenty more than 10 ft. Blimey, even I could ‘dangle & drop’ or at a push maybe jump 10 ft.
Sunday 13 July 2003
As we followed Elderford’s splendidly detailed instructions from the Andle Stone (thank you Mr E), John realised that he’d looked for the beautiful Doll before, but hadn’t known her name. And hadn’t found her.
I’m full of (figurative) disbelief and (real) awe that Jane found the Doll Tor circle without a decent map! It’s almost spooky. I reckon with the Landranger on its own I might have missed it and I’m not bad at following maps.
What can I say that hasn’t already been said? An immensely beautiful (now) sylvan voodoo Doll(y) casting a spell on all who see her.
I’ve said that there’s ‘always’ something about sites when I see them for myself that surprises me or at the very least adds to the experience. In the case of the ‘living’ Doll the surprise was threefold.
The ‘lesser’ surprise was the cairn, which I knew about but was bigger than I expected.
The ‘middle’ surprise was that at least 2 or 3 of the actual stones seemed to have been repaired – I knew the circle had been restored and it’s not a problem for me, but I don’t remember anyone explicitly mentioning it.
And the ‘big’ surprise was the view to the north-west!!!! I never realised you could see through the trees and thought I’d have to try to make the trees disappear in my mind as at so many ‘newly’ forested sites.
None of it!!! Looking closely at some of the photos here in retrospect, it is possible to catch a glimpse. I took a couple of photos trying to emphasise it but I’m not sure it worked….
It’s wonderful when a ‘new’ bunch of rocks lives up to high expectations. Doll Tor managed that and more! Phew!!!
Oh yeah, John liked it too.
Retracing our steps, John and I were both so invigorated by Doll Tor that we took our courage (!) in both hands and climbed the Andle Stone. And WOW!!!! Is it worth it?!!!!!! Hell yeah!
Sunday 13 July 2003
Arriving at Elderford’s layby at 119 229 619, we discovered it was full. But luckily there is room for one car at the bottom of the lane on the west side of the road. This is right by the gate to the track leading up the hill towards Robin Hood’s Stride, Cratcliffe Rocks etc and Nine Stones Close.
We didn’t stop at the Hermit’s Cave as there are far too many really old stones in Derbyshire to bother wasting time looking at medieval holes! (I guess it may well have been significant before that really, but I liked the phrase!)
The track bends left as it approaches Robin Hood’s Stride directly towards the craggy outcrop, leaving Cratcliffe Tor (as I believe the outcrop with the hermit’s cave is called).
Robin Hood’s Stride is pretty impressive, but we weren’t going to bother climbing it (too hot!). We kept to the track, not taking a footpath to the right which I’d guess goes out onto the top of Cratcliffe Tor.
It probably passes Cratcliffe Rocks and Cratcliffe Rocks Fort. I’ll have to go back for a looksee, but today time was whizzing past.
As you pass Robin Hood’s Stride on your left and the hill flattens out, there is a field gate in front of you, a stile on your left and another gate on the right. Someone has painted arrows to try to clarify where the path actually goes, but they probably make it more confusing from this direction.
If you’re going to Nine Stones Close, however, it doesn’t matter! Although John and I took ages to realise it – too busy working out where the path goes – the stones are in the second field right in front of you!
At this point they are about a quarter of a mile away, slightly to the left, in a field bounded by a dry-stone wall, next to a single tree.
Nine Stones Close caught me off-guard both by the fact that we looked virtually straight at it without seeing it and by the fact that it was somehow not as I had imagined it.
I knew its stones were pretty big. I knew it was in a ‘good’ setting. I’d even seen quite a few pictures. But I think I’d let it get ‘over-shadowed’ (ironically) by how much I was looking forward to seeing Doll Tor at last.
In the end I think the stark contrast between the 2 circles in size and setting actually worked to make Nine Stones Close all the more interesting and impressive. It’s not really at all like any of them, but it faintly made me think of one of the Machrie Moor circles on Arran (a wonderful place). Machrie Moor II maybe.
Well, Nine Stones Close is a wonderful place too.
Despite being overlooked by the outcrops of Robin Hood’s Stride and Cratcliffe at the south, in the sunshine on Sunday Nine Stones Close was, for me, far from in their thrall. On a clear day, the wide dale opening up to the north allows the circle to be intimate, almost cozy, yet in a place of space under a huge sky.
I found it strangely compelling and now want to see it in more forbidding weather. I imagine it will look and feel very different.
On the way back to the car, I quickly sprinted up Robin Hood’s Stride to see if it was worth an ‘elevated context*’ snap of my now beloved Nine Stones Close, as I had a 300mm lens with me (it wasn’t).
*I just made up some jargon! Anyone know what it means?
I was very impressed with Robin Hood’s Stride itself and it’s wacky shapes though, as well as the views it commands.
Sunday 13 July 2003
On the way back to the car from Nine Stones Close stone circle, I quickly sprinted up Robin Hood’s Stride to see if it was worth an ‘elevated context*’ snap of my now beloved Nine Stones Close, as I had a 300mm lens with me (it wasn’t).
*I just made up some jargon! Anyone know what it means?
I was very impressed with Robin Hood’s Stride itself and it’s wacky shapes though, as well as the views it commands.