Moth

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….‘

And he says it WAS chalk.

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….

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.

Sunday 13 July 2003
Since it was now about 1.15pm, we briefly thought of leaving Arbor Low until later in the day, just before heading back to Leeds, in the hope that there would fewer people around.

We arrived to find the car park and verges at the bottom of the lane very busy.

Paying our 50p each we hurried up the incline beyond the farm towards Arbor Low itself. It was pretty busy, but I managed to squeeze off some photos to replace my mislaid ones, timing them carefully according to where people were standing and using a wide angle lens to reduce their prominence in the pictures.

As we wandered around the site I felt much more comfortable with the place than on previous visits. I wonder if it was the weather, which was much more friendly than when I’ve been to Arbor Low before. I don’t think it was the people, though you never know – there’s not been many about when I’ve been there before!

Since Sunday I’ve noticed that Mr Cope said it can seem almost like a ‘little Avebury’. I must have remembered that subliminally I guess, because the exact same thought went through my head. Henge, ditch, stones, cove, grassy etc.

Ha! Consciously though my thought was prompted by a middle-aged (hark who’s talking) female visitor advising a crony that the 2 of them really must go to ‘Aylesbury or Avesbury or whatever it’s called….’ Hope Pete G doesn’t hear them talking.

It really is a fascinating place. John thinks someone should make a 3d animation in full detail of what the site would’ve looked like when (or, if) the stones were standing. That would be interesting.

If someone would pay him to do it, he’d actually be a good man for the job – he worked for many years creating ‘scenery’ for computer games, has a great eye for detail and tenacity to spare. He’s also at a ‘loose end’ and I’m on commission.

Anyway, after about half an hour, just as I took the last few photos on the film in my camera and I realised I’d left my spares in the car, something strange happened. Almost everyone walked off towards Gib Hill.

Now, I’ve only been to Arbor Low a couple of times before, but I’d only ever seen about 2 other people make the short walk to Gib Hill. On Sunday a veritable procession had begun. And we’re not talking megaraks here, but bog standard sightseers. ‘Sheep’ syndrome?

Which is the norm I wonder?

Ironically of course, we decided not to go to Gib Hill this time – too many people! Weird. I wonder what the blue rinses thought when they got there. ‘Oh, it’s a little hill.’ Sorry, that’s probably patronising….

As a result, we missed out on Arbor Low II which I didn’t know about on previous visits and haven’t noticed from Gib Hill. I sometimes wonder if I walk around with my eyes closed….

Bet none of the blue rinses noticed it either though.
On the way back through the farm we noticed that some big renovation or conversion work is going on, and observed how nice it would be to live there. We both thought we’d try to get the path moved so that people weren’t traipsing past the house all the time though!

Sunday 13 July 2003
The entrance to Stubob’s disused ‘Wragg’s Quarry’ and Raven Tor is at an (unsigned) gate, at 119 282684, as prescribed. So we parked and hopped over it. As we walked along the track it was soon clear that this was indeed a smallish disused quarry. Didn’t see any ‘private’ signs….

The track is a bit of a dead end, and on the way back we discovered that at a point before the track bears right, there is a fairly gentle heather covered upward slope off to the left. At the top a wire fence is visible. Go up this slope and climb over the fence – it’s not too difficult if you find a post with diagonal supports attached.

If you carry on to the end as we did, you’ll either have to turn back or scramble up a very steep slope. That is, of course, what we did….

Whichever way you take, you still have to climb the fence and are on a fairly pathless bit of heather covered moorland. There are many pits, presumably from unmechanised quarrying, but all the ones we saw are easily visible.

Its worth taking care though and in any case the ground is very uneven underfoot and it would be easy to twist an ankle or strain a knee. Don’t wear shorts (I did) unless you have longish boots on (I didn’t) – the heather doesn’t scratch too badly, but it does fill your boots and socks with uncomfortable and annoying seeds!

I reckon if I hadn’t emptied them out when we got back to the car, I could’ve dug up what I laughingly call my lawns* and had a Derbyshire heather moorland-style garden. It’d be an improvement.

*More like a couple of rectangles of weeds, with a moderately bad infestation of grass.

It will get quite boggy or squishy pretty easily too I reckon – the moor, not my garden.

Once over the fence, stomp more or less north-west. You’ll see lots of lumps and bumps with rocks on, particularly in front of you and to the left. None of those that we investigated were anything interesting and I could sense John’s faith waning, so we stopped bothering and pressed on north-west towards Fallinge Edge.

We missed Raven Tor (single) Cairn, probably as a result.

For a while though, we were able to follow a satisfyingly crunchy dry track where I assume the heather had burnt, last year perhaps?. Sorry, I’m not really a country boy, though I’m enthusiastic and willing to learn!

Once we got ‘close to the edge’ (great album!) we followed along it to the right, north-eastish. Beautiful views. I absolutely love the juxtaposition of high wild moorland looking out on rolling, lush, cultivated land. And that’s what this is like. I couldn’t wait to find the triple cairn!

And about half an hour after climbing the fence (including investigation of a few ‘red herrings’) I spotted Raven Tor Triple Cairn! I just spread my arms wide to ‘present’ it to John and grinned my biggest grin for a long time. What a setting!!!!

A few seconds later. I realised I’d not put a new film in my camera and the spares were still in the car…. A certain amount of swearing and gnashing of teeth followed, but receded fairly quickly with the thrill of finding this place. The photos on this website show the cairns perfectly anyway!

‘One of Derbyshire’s best kept secrets’ our man Stu calls it. And he ain’t kidding! I’ve never seen anything like it. For a seasoned ‘stone-spotter’ this is something out of the ordinary. The photos on the Raven Tor Triple Cairn page speak for themselves much better than I can describe it.

The cairn nearest the ‘edge’ looks like it may have been added later, as its arc overlaps with the middle cairn, whereas the other 2 cairns more or less complete their arcs, though they seem to ‘share’ a section of kerb. Fascinating.

I would have said that the rectangular setting was closer than 30 ft away, but I could be wrong. I didn’t pay much attention to be quite honest – the ‘triple’ cairn held my attention too strongly.

Left to my own devices I’d have doubted the origins of the rectangular cairn, but if greater authorities or excavation have proved it ‘genuine’ I can’t argue. I can’t provide any evidence, it just doesn’t seem right or to make any sense to me. It just looks randomly plonked near the triple cairn. Ho hum.

Thrashed back across the moor (really hard work on the way back), discovered the gentler heather covered slope down to the quarry track, missed Raven Tor (single) Cairn. Again.

Sunday 13 July 2003
We arrived at the bottom of the lane at 119 287681, leading north between forestry and nature reserve, towards the various cairns and stone circle. We followed the lane along the edge of the forestry. The first gate to the moor and towards the cairns forbids entry because of the nature reserve.

We carried on along the lane, leaving it just as it turned sharp left. Here a track leads up and slightly left onto the moor. We followed this track until the first distinct (but gentle) bend to the right.

There is a large patch of ferns on the right as the track bends (at least at the moment!). Park Gate stone circle is in the long rather ‘reedy’ grass’ the other side of the fern patch, so turn right, off the track, and skirt the edge of the ferns on your left.

Follow the edge of the ferns until you are ‘behind’ the whole patch – you should be able to see a couple of the stones of the circle a short distance off in the long grass.

John and I were pleased to have found the circle, but Park Gate is not the most spectacular or impressive circle. It’s certainly worth seeing if you are in the area though. Once more it is set on a fairly wild bit of moorland with impressive views.

Looking at the circle itself, I was reminded slightly of some Scottish circles by the fact that the stones diminish in size from (at a guess) the south east of the circle to the north west. In this case it could easily just be because the north west is more ruined….

We both thought it would probably be worth a winter visit in the hope of lower grass – though as the area is likely to be boggy, the growth may still prevent a very good view of the stones.

Thursday 1 May 2003
The Fortingall stone circles were a site that I’d stopped at before, but not been right up to. On that occasion the field had had a particularly large number of cattle in it, including what looked like a few pretty lively bullocks.

I nearly didn’t even get out of the car on this visit, this time because it was absolutely chucking it down!!! As at Croft Moraig earlier in the day though, I found I couldn’t resist, and luckily the rain eased for just long enough to have a decent look around the stones.

Must admit, maybe it’s just me but I think they look more impressive from the road. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a lovely site and very interesting, but once I got up to them the stones of the 3 circles look somehow less ‘erected’ and more just…well, ‘dumped’, if you know what I mean. Still essential viewing though!

Thursday 1 May 2003
From the road we took in the Carse Farm I 4 poster and distant stone that remains standing of the Carse Farm II circle. Again I had visited this one before though on neither occasion did I know about the cup-marked rock.

I’ve never actually been down to Carse Farm II yet, but the setting of both circles is very attractive, nestling in the wide valley. Carse Farm I is certainly a particularly beautiful 4 poster, especially when bathed in the sunshine.

Thursday 1 May 2003
We just glanced at this from the car as time was a bit short, but I’ve been before. It’s an interesting if ‘messy’ site that I’d have liked to investigate further, but some farmy-type blokes appeared and made me feel uncomfortable.

Nothing to add to what’s been said except that I guess it reminded me a bit of Pitnacree with more stones!!