postman

Southwest of Hundleton, where the B4320 kinks round a right hand bend, and a side road shoots of left to Castlemartin. There is a footpath marked Dry burrows bronze age round barrows, and indeed they are very visible in the field next to the road. Further, a blow up of the OS map is right next to the stile into the field, but the thoughtful farmer has his gate blocking it.

The name Dry burrows is a bit of a misnomer, the field they are in is anything but dry, boggy would be my choice, boggy burrows barrows, the bog is everywhere, and the water has an oily sheen on it, perfectly gross.

One barrow immediately stands out several feet above the others, it is square in the center of this end of the field. It is surrounded by seven others, of varying heights, four of which are in the same field, two of them are large distinct mounds, one is only a very slight bump, and the other is ploughed out utterly. In the next field is another slight bump and one more utterly ploughed out and half under the hedge. The last slight bump is across the road in a ploughed field, on my way there a car full of youths beeped me and pulled a stupid face, cretins everywhere you go i’ll tell you.
The last barrow is a ploughed down slight bump, camouflaged amongst it’s ploughed field surroundings.

Five hundred meters south beyond the lake are two more barrows, one wonders if the lake covers a couple, perhaps linking the two sites.

Back in April, Eric and me visited Lawhaden castle, whilst there we learned that the not too far away castle at llansteffan was built within an Iron age fort, Four months later we are back in the southest of Wales so which castle shall we go to ? Well really I’d have preferred Pembroke castle but that one is a payer where as llansteffan is free to enter .

We parked by the beach, ignored the mobile chippy and the ice cream van, but not the lyrics to the Bosses song from last year, we’re by the beach, you know which song. In the corner of the car park is the signposted start of the path up to the castle, as we are passing a natty creepy model of Pegasus Eric starts complaining about a hurting leg, I think of Sweetcheats leg and I hope it isn’t a torn hamstring. After much limping and stopping and starting we reach the top and stand before the entrance to this impressive castle. I like castles, not as much as my brother though, he cant see the attraction of a cairn or a menhir and sometimes laughs at my somewhat frugal rewards for long drives. He doesn’t get it at all.

We backtrack from the castle entrance and peer round the corner. I’m a bit gob smacked, are they really iron age ramparts ? It could just be a moat, but the authorities assure us they are iron age and after climbing the fence we can see that after the first rampart there is a second ditch not as deep as the first, but, it is proof of the iron age, castles don’t have two moats.
We follow the ditch round to where it fades into the undergrowth and down steep crags. The view out across the wide river mouth is a good one, and what a place to watch over the area controlled by our iron age folk.

We run out of earthworks and Eric drags me off into the castle, stairs to climb, nooks to explore and walls to clamber on, GET OFF RIGHT NOW.
It is running very late and we’ve got a very long drive home, strangely, as we ran back down the hill side his leg isn’t bothering him at all, nothing torn here, just growing pains, my dads catch all explanation.

North of Criccieth on the B4411 is the little village of Rhoslan, blink and you’ll miss it, at the southern end of the village there is a small lane with a bridle path sign leading east. Park here. The burial chamber is ahead through a gate on the left side of the field. (following this path leads to Ystumcegid dolmen eventually, but I don’t recommend that route)

Like nearby Caer Dyni I haven’t been here for over a decade, my memory of it is one of slight disappointment, perhaps due to seeing all the better examples first, or maybe it was the way one side is too open, as if a couple of uprights had been taken away.
But my new memories of it are those of best site of the day, nay, star of the day. We got to quite a few sites today, one was just a pile of stones, one was just a stone, didn’t find another, and another was basically just a lean to, they all had something great about them but right here right now Cefn Isaf is just what the doctor ordered.

A great big, it has to be said, axe like capstone held neatly aloft on strong thick legs, the stream running by very closely, swallows skimming for flies, a dog walking couple go by and the sun streams down upon me. Next to the stream up and down from the chamber are a number of large stones one a big round boulder another is a large flat stone, I wondered if the stream had always been there. Eric had elected to stay and wait in the car, but I was at such peace sitting comfortably in the chamber looking out at the bucolic scene, like a tranced out football coach in his dugout, that when he appeared round the corner and into the chamber I was fair startled, jumped and almost bumped my head, bloody kids, always sneaking about the place. We sat silently for a while, him between my feet, sharing the view, then he stated his need for a number two and can we go now.
Yes, yes we can.

Probably the most easily visited site on the whole peninsula, however, from the lay by, I couldn’t see it, but I knew from a previous visit, so long ago that Eric had not yet been born, that it was by a bush no more than a hundred yards away. It may be easy to find and easy to get to, only a fence or gate to climb or just jump over the wall at the lay by.
Even without the map and untold years of fool proof memory it was still easy to find, and find it I did.
Quel suprise, the bush has gone, I wonder who did that, enterprising avid stone watcher ?, surely not, farmer ? doubtful, my money is on local archaeology group, who ever, good one.

That said it’s not an impressive or inspiring site, who knows what it would have looked like when it was more together. The capstone leans against just one of the few stones under it, a huge notch has gone from the stone, giving it a pacman sort of look. The thing I saw as most interesting, is the weird red/grey concrete or stone that is right under the capstone joining it to the ground, is it concrete to fasten the stone in place ? or is it iron rich rock ? or what, anyway it looked weird and out of place.

Due to the passage of time directions to this burial chamber have changed slightly since rdavymed came here nine years ago.
Parking is still at Cilan Uchaf farm, but your charged two quid for the pleasure now, there is an honesty slot in the barns side door.
Heading south east from the farm through a gate with a sign encouraging fishermen to come this way, after closing the gate behind you go into the right hand far corner of the field passing an unused caravan. There is another gate to be open and closed and across the field is another gate, head for that and then your in the burial chambers field it’s in the far left corner. So that’s three gates, no more than a ten minutes walk, even if you dawdle.

Sounds easy enough, but it’s not the way I went.

Instead of the fisher friendly gate we went down the half overgrown old footpath that bends and takes us away south, not the right way. At the end of this path over a fence, cross a field, and over another fence, then I was sure it would be over the field and over the next fence and there it would be. No . Hmmm, I was sure I would be in the right place, we walked further south down to the sea looked about , wandered hither and thither , but couldn’t find it at all. Eric was trying to be helpful, suggesting it and been pushed over, or it had fallen in the sea, the latter wasn’t impossible we were close to the edge of some high cliffs, and erosion isn’t a made up word. We retraced our steps, basically I employed the tactic of going round in circles getting more and more frustrated. As a last gasp solution we sat on the cliff tops looking out to sea, I put the map away and began to resign myself to some inadequate failed notes. Suddenly a spark of genius entered my consciousnesses, I silently stood up walked over to the stile ten meters away, peered across the field and pointed “there it is”, just like John Cleese pointing out Brian as he runs off through the streets.

I couldn’t believe how hard I’d found finding this bloody great stone to be, at one point I was going to blame unusually magnetic bedrock, then the map was wrong, plainly. In the end I can only presume it really is harder to find than you at first think.
The llech is really very big, over four feet tall five feet wide and twelve? feet long. Sitting on the stone for a while we watched a RNLI lifeboat out doing maneuvers, or perhaps showing off to a girlfriend. High on the cliff tops above Porth ceiriad is a hill fort, but time wont allow a visit today. Under the stone at its southern end are a couple of stones that could have supported this end of the capstone, could be field clearance though.
rdavymed’s field notes mention it isn’t easy to find and he’s dead right, but he also says it could be the most spectacular site on the Lleyn, I’m not so sure about that though. It’s a very worthwhile place to get to, for the size of the llech and those easy on the eye sea views.

Not marked on the 50,000 map, but is marked on the 25,000 as burial chamber, a good description of Tan y Muriau 700 meters north east possibly but not here, but, fallen broken stones probably won’t fit on the map. The capstone is on the floor with about a sixth of it lying broken off to the side, any upright stones are also fallen, the whole thing is fallen.

Two rows of water filled drill holes cross the center of the capstone, I had thought they were for breaking up the stone but it might be that the locals used to put gunpowder in the holes during festivities, a kind of firework?
But even in it’s destruction what’s left is enough to see that this would have been an impressive burial chamber, on dimensions alone similar to Chun Quoit.
But yet again the siting of the stones is quite splendid, looking down across Porth Neigwl, aka Hell’s mouth and on to Abersoch, and in the other direction, south west, up hill to Mynydd Graig with it’s fort and hut circles.
Disappointing burial chamber unless you know what to expect, one for the completest.

The first time I came here I parked in a house that was in mid renovation, but is now fully being lived in, so I couldn’t park there. In stead I went down hill from the long driveway leading to Tan y Muriau, not far, only about twenty meters or so and left the car under a holly tree at the side of the road, still leaving plenty of room for other road users to get past.

But like on my first visit, there was no one in at the house to ask permission from, so we just walked over to the chambers which are about fifty yards away in the next field. There were no animals to harangue us, but a high growth of bracken and some sort of yellow flowering plant were definitely going to make us pay for this visit. Seeing as no one was in at the house we started cutting back and trampling down the almost overpowering vegetation. In the end it really opened the place out, before it was head high in places and only the tops of the capstones could be seen, but this was much better. It was early spring on my first trip here, there was no bracken and no flowering plants of any colour, I think on balance I prefer summer but hope it will indulge me with a ten minute clear up.

This is another fantastic must see gem of the lleyn peninsula, two chambers for the price of one. On the map it’s down as a simple long cairn so should be just like this one themodernantiquarian.com/site/14330/cwmbiga.html .....except that ones not on the map at all, there is so much difference between the two it’s just not funny. Long cairn indeed.
You can get in and have a good sit down in the big chamber, it’s dry and slug free, but watch your head on the upside down whale fin on the underneath of the capstone. Now i’ve had another look at the smaller chamber i’m not so convinced it has slipped off, rather it could be an earthfast chamber like at Garnwnda, I don’t know, i’m open to either.
The capstone is a big beautiful death gods hat, I mean neolithic axe, no, I mean underworld pointer. Could just be a stone, but it looks more like the Delta flyer from Voyager to me, either way it’s a good stone for a burial chamber.

The disputed stone in a graveyard. Cant quite say why it would be disputed, it’s not that different than Llangwnnadl menhir just a couple of miles away, slightly more rectangular in section maybe, but of a similar height and both seem to focus upon Carn Fadryn, or at least both can see the big forted hill.

But it’s the atmosphere here that stops one in their tracks, the sun pours down upon us for the first time today, two Buzzards are flying round really close and calling loudly to each other, or perhaps to Eric and me. The mist still clings to the hill tops and glows in the morning sunshine, the church has a big heavy door with a handle that needs two hands to turn, inside is the church you always wanted, half height walls and no roof, how very pagan. A most surprising graveyard this one, I like the quiet tranquility of a grave yard, I was once into ancient Yews and saw a few old churches then as well, but to have views across North Wales and a big standing stone thrown in all that’s missing from here is an ancient yew and i’d never leave. Bucolic, that’s the word.

Just when you think you’ve seen all the best places somewhere, one pops up that you haven’t been to before, and I cant think why. But then you get there and it seems obvious, there is absolutely no where to park. I pin pointed where it was, but high hedgerows hide any views from the road. The nearest house down the road has room to spare for a quick visit but a no parking sign diligently deterred me.
I took revenge by carelessly blocking the field gate for five minutes whilst I constantly circled the stone staring up in wonder. It is a whopper, almost ten feet tall. A strange notched top has it looking like a Lundin link stone from some angles. Close by on the horizon to the east is Carn Fadryn a breast shaped hill with a good fort on it that I don’t have time to explore on this day, but in between us is a stone in a grave yard that I do have time for. Hopefully parking wont be as problematical as here and we can relax a bit.

I was alerted to this hill forts existence and whereabouts by TMA contributor Blossom, nice one. Seeing as it is near the road and halfway between two stones on the list, I had to stop and take look, be rude not to.
About five minutes north east from Aberdaron, easily spotted from the B4413. I parked up a small rough farm track that leads to some farm buildings but not the farmers house. Apart from over easily freaked young cows we had the place to ourselves. From the farm barn it is only a ten minute walk up to the top. Marked by a trig point and mapped as 146m high, the top is a wonderful place to be. The whole Lleyn peninsula can be seen from up here, excepting the highest hill tops which are still shrouded in early morning mists. The mists are almost low enough to engulf me on this hill top, they’re wafting around just above head height and lending a most ethereal light upon the whole scene.
The hill fort itself isn’t that grand or impressive, the ditches aren’t deep nor the ramparts high, but they do have a vache-de-frise. A chevaux-de-frise, is a defensive system that has usually sharp things getting in the way of cavalry, as seen at Pen y Gaer and Cademuir hill, but here they have live cows encrusting the ramparts, a bit blunt mostly, but, get through that ya b****rds.
No sign of Odo though, if you go to somewhere that’s called castle Odo and there’s no Star trekian shape shifters to be seen at all it must be against the trade descriptions act or something, some American tourists might sue.
Perhaps the trig point has obscured the mound within the fort and I could see no sign of any mounding on the outside either, as with many if not all hill forts it’s the sighting of the fort, the terrific views from them that keeps me climbing these places. Odo rests on .

Somewhat surprisingly, it was, bar one day, exactly two years since my last visit. I was looking for somewhere to camp for a night, any where at the east end of the Lleyn would have done really, but seeing as my last time here was hampered by unseasonably bad weather, and a camp site is within a few hundred yards, it seemed sensible to start the days stone hunt at the beginning, as it were, and then any other places visited would be all on the way home.

Gee whiz tents are uncomfortable, even a chimp builds a comfy nest every day, and there’s us sleeping on the floor, like a camel, and like a camel we rise reluctantly, slowly and with great moaning noises. But eventually we are up and on our way. We drive a couple hundred yards up the road to the car park and information boards. From there just head seaward between two hills Uwch Mynydd and Mynydd y Gwyddel. Bardsey island, Ynys Enlli lies out to sea looking cool and distant, it wasn’t there last time I was here if you know what I mean, and above the standing stone is the ruins of St. Mary’s chapel, still very visible as a series of rectilinear earthworks.

Once again I forget to look for the supposed sacred well amongst the rocks below but its the stone that i’ve come for and it’s the stone that keeps my attention, such an improbable stone for standing up right all gnarled and twisted not pretty, but definitely beautiful. Why is it here though, there is no good boating landing place, perhaps it marks the well, or the hut circles above to the north, either way I’m glad I’ve made it to the end of the world here twice and seen the stone that is Maen Melyn

I’ve driven past this barrow more times than I can remember, at least a hundred. But today I was taking in some near to home barrows and thought it would be rude not to. In passing Ive noticed another larger mound to the east, this turned out to be a Norman motte, but a good vantage point to look over the area. I climbed the small hill wading through waist high thistles and scaring rabbits away, whilst keeping an eye out for anyone with a glare and baleful eye. No one, no one but me and good long views over the barrow and off towards Llangollen and Ruabon mountain and south of there the beginnings of the Berwyns. Good stuff.

I drove the drive down to the barrow and noticed the map informing me there is a footpath running right by the barrow. Perfect, I even manage to find the stile going into the field, it’s getting a bit overgrown, so I quickly trample down the nettles and brambles so other people can see it and enter the field. Occupying one of the highest and most prominent positions, as a barrow is wont to do, a big barrow this was once, it’s considerably spread out now, but still recognisable and indeed impressive. The footpath has no markers on it, in fact it’s not there at all as far as farmer is concerned two fences had to be jumped. The barrow has a fence running over it, and in the field to the left of the fence is a timid horse, I don’t approach, two horses in the field behind me and a shed in the corner have me feeling penned in.
With such fine views of towards Eglwyseg with all its cairns and menhirs and stuff, it’s inviting to think that the body interred here on Bryn Rossett may have had ancestors back that way and wanted to keep in contact even in death. Tempting.

Pastscape says this of Meadows farm barrow......

A bowl barrow, 50 to 60ft. in diameter and
approx 6ft high, was excavated by Mr J Blake of New House Farm, Shocklach, who discovered an oak plank at a depth of about 7ft, possibly part of a trunk coffin. It is suggested that the barrow covers an inhumation burial of E.B.A. date. (1)

The barrow at SJ 45454834 is oval in shape, 20.0 m. E – W, and 16.0 m. N-S. This shape is probably due to ploughing. It is 1.5 m. high, and grass covered with no ditch. (2)

I parked by the eponymous meadow farm and followed the Bishop Bennett’s way footpath south, a nice if a little muddy path lined by a stream and trees. The path branches, turn right ignoring the stile in front of you, twenty yards on and the barrow can be seen through the trees lining the path. Now the pointlessly hard bit, cross the boggy line that could in heavy weather be a stream, jump the fence and there’s the barrow. Pointless ? well where the path starts by the farm house don’t go down it, just enter the field to the right and there’s the barrow again at the back of the field.

Luckily this barrow doesn’t have a load of trees on it, it’s as bare as...... as a grassy mound can be.
I later find out it was a bowl barrow, you can’t tell just by looking at it. I stand on top of the barrow which is kept free of crops, and the grass kept short. I walk round the barrow photographing it as best I can. But then it starts to rain, it’s about time as well as it’s been thundering for a good couple of hours now. I precariously take cover under another tree right behind the barrow and ready my camera for another picture only to miss a  long vertical streak of lightning by about two seconds. I stand at the ready in case by some miracle it does it again and I can capture it on film, but all’s it will give me is a glimmer of sheet lightning, it’s not like I’d be quick enough anyway, some dark and stormy pics will do instead.

A third of a mile north east of Whitewell barrow is another smaller barrow, but looking at the map you’d think this one would be bigger, it isn’t. Follow signs for Iscoyd park, then turn left onto smaller lane through some woods. Park here.

Now strike off heartily north through the woods, worry not about nettles, brambles and fallen trees, the barrow is but two hundred meters from the car. Climb the steep but short bank, prepare to trespass, deep breath and hop over the fence.
The barrow is visible from here, it should be it’s just seventy meters away, but the grass is long and a big old Horse chestnut tree grows on it. Only it’s position pinpointed on the map gives it away.
On closer inspection another fallen chestnut tree surmounts the barrow, the barrow isn’t a big to start off with but with all the growth on it it’s not easy to identify at all. Two maybe three feet tall at best. I take a pew under the tree just as some big black clouds come scooting by full of thunder and the odd sparkle of lightning, I notice i’m under a tree and wonder if there is somewhere else I can enjoy the ambiance from, but there’s just more trees. I go for a walk round the field inspecting the barrow from different angles, no rain, but plenty of noise, and not being struck by lightning is always a bonus.

From Whitchurch take the A525 to Wrexham for about a mile then turn right at the sign for Whitewell. Turn left then right and then turn right once more following sign for St Mary church of Whitewell, park here at the church.

Whitewell barrow is our last port of call for this slight foray across the Welsh border, it’s less than a mile from the border, and at the church of St Mary four footpaths converge. Walking around the old white washed church the barrow comes in to view, glimpsed through centuries old Yew trees and decades old wooden fencing, but then we get to the stile over the fence and we can see that this barrow is quite frankly huge. It is unfortunately off the footpath, one path goes north and past it by a eighty meters, the other path east and past it by a hundred meters, but from the eastern side the barrow blocks out the farm buildings that are too close to it.
We approach quietly across the old roughly plowed field, crunchy on top soft underneath. The barrow is really quite big at least twelve feet high and fifty feet across, if I’d known it was this big I’d have been here ages ago, something I say too much regrettably . It’s entire surface is pock marked profusely with rabbit holes, and less profusely with little blue flowers that weren’t bluebells and lots and lots of pine cones.

I was a bit surprised to see that someone else had already added this site, they were, I thought, a quite obscure pair of barrows. I was not however surprised to see that it was Carl, he gets about a bit, which is what it’s all about, getting out.

I was “just passing through” from one place to another, when on the map, jumped out two very close to the road barrows, well, map says ones a barrow and t’other is a cairn, what’s in a name?
loads, you know that.
I parked in front of one gate and approached with Arthur J. Russell, just intending to have a look see if I was in the right place, I hadn’t even got my slippers off, try driving in walking boots. The cairn loomed across the field which had been ploughed and was bone dry, I decided on a one in a thousand chance and visited my first cairn in my slippers, mmmm comfy.
The cairn is about two meters high, and well over twenty across. When I first saw it at the field gate I woohooed at it in splendid surprise, i wasn’t expecting it to be so big. There are four largish boulders hugging the north western arc but whether they are field clearance or kerbing I couldn’t say. Castle hill to the east and Gwastedyn hill to the south create a pleasing backdrop to the cairn.

Half a mile east of Rhayader on the north side of the A44 is this large conifer coated heavily eroded barrow, it’s about fifty yards from the road, not much parking there except on grassy sloping verge, or in front of the gate.
A large grassy mound about a meter and a half tall, by many meters across, time hasn’t kept this barrow well, it’s well spread out.
No gate to speak of, it was either very open or not there at all, I didn’t notice because my gaze was being held by the big old barrow.
As far as incidental barrows go these were quite good, I was just passing through saw them on the map and just had stop and take a minute.

From Rhayader take the B4518 to St Harmon but turn almost immediately left, towards Nantserth and Tynshimley farms, passing a mind control, er I mean radio mast on your right. The road up there is single file, watch out for car chasing dogs, turn right when you get to a crossroads, well, a road crossing a rough dirt track, follow the track as far as you want, there are plenty of opportunistic parking places.
Arthur and me left the car half way up the east/west track, out of view of either farm houses, I don’t think neither are farms though.

Through the gate at the bottom of the track and the footpath takes you right past the barrow. Another gate climbed and i’m in the barrow field.
It is a big one, comparable with Barrow 4 at Staylittle, I didn’t know that at the time though because I hadn’t been there yet.
About two meters tall and a good twenty odd across, and fair covered in thistles. The barrow is pretty spread out, one wonders if all spread barrows are ploughed down or were they ever designed that way. Moel Hywel at over five hundred meters high dominates the near surroundings. Standing on top of the barrow the south west view opens up as far as Esgair Penygarreg, itself cairn topped, but then all the hills round there are. They’re on the list but not today though, another time.

When I read Carls field notes the WOW word jumped out most, I found it on Google earth, or at least where it should be, it couldn’t be seen, and with my awesome map reading skills coupled with Carls spot on directions, it was easy as pie to find this little gem of a hidden treasure. No trickyness involved, all straight forward. As you approach the cairn, I was thinking “is that it?, is that it?” but in an excited way not a disappointed way, apart from Cwmbiga long cairn and Pen y Gaer fort these would be my only stones of the day as all the others are barrows, and I do like a good kerb cairn.

This is a good kerb cairn, It’s got lots in common with themodernantiquarian.com/site/2523/dolgamfa_circle.html and themodernantiquarian.com/site/2156/hirnant_circle.html , but it’s surroundings are what takes the biscuit here, high on a hillside looking over the Afon Marteg, and away to the west up into big hill country, heavily cairn’d big hill country.
The cairn is another half buried donut, but unlike other donuts this one has sprinkles. Six large stones erupt from the cairns outer edge, and the inner scoop has a long stone half buried in it, cist or bedrock I don’t know. The main feature of this cairn is it’s placement, on it’s rocky spur jutting into the Marteg valley, below dark imposing boulders and cliffs. Stunning !!!
Then for the first and last time that day it started to rain on me, in my haste to “get out there” I neglected to bring a coat, so we hurriedly returned to the car for some much needed fuel intake (blue cheese butties, mmm)

Travelling north west from Llanidloes to Staylittle, veer off to the left to take the smaller view point saturated scenic route round llyn Clywedog. The fort is above the concrete mass of the Dam, south east end of the Llyn.

All I wanted was a direct route from Rhayader to Cwnbiga long cairn, but I found that my way was blocked by a hill fort that was too close to the road to ignore, you’d be surprised to know how often that happens. So I parked on a grassy verge right under the fort, only a two minute climb/walk, and bang, a damn good fort and some terrific views all along llyn Clywedog, probably the prettiest of all reservoirs.

On the way up the thin sheep track to the fort, a few strange bundles of stones or bedrock are
planted along the north east arc of the fort, one looks very constructed. Opposite the entrance to the fort on the south side is a wide flat circle of a hillock, like a siege mound or better a house platform. Entering the fort through it’s wide entrance I turn left to follow the broken down wall, things that have to be done at a hill fort are follow the wall all the way round, note the entrances, (until then you haven’t been there) then find some where good to park yer arse and enjoy the surroundings. Another entrance appears near the north, heading towards the easiest approach to the fort. Within the walls are several shelters, well probably shelters, like plops in water, or little craters. A cairn adorns the highest point of the hill, I think it’s not ancient, map says there’s a cairn here somewhere but my eyes cant quite discern where map is pointing to.

Damn this is a pretty place, having a good two thousand year old hill fort here as well is just the cherry on top.

It’s not an easy one to find, it is a long way from any main road, best reached either from the north at Staylittle or south from perhaps the prettiest reservoir ever seen llyn Clywedog. Parking was had under some conifers about 150 meters east of Cwmbiga farm. Not having the relevant map didn’t start the day off optimistically, but thankfully the first petrol station I got to had the right one.

From the car jump the fence and follow a small tree lined stream down to the corner of the field, climb the fence again, now there is a more substantial stream to cross. Arthur my three year old Jack Russell wouldn’t go near the water, so i picked him up, toyed with the idea of doing a balancing act crossing on a fallen tree, then just ran through on tip toes, and entered another world.

I thought the llyn Clywedog road side drive here was very easy on the eye, most agreeable. But the feast of thick, verdant, lush, damp loveliness that greeted me caught me completely off guard.
I had to turn around and look back the way I’d come incase i’d been transported to some far off fairy land. I put Arthur down and he sank up to his knees in moss, I picked him up and sought some more solid ground to put him on, there wasn’t much to choose from. Moving through this Jurassic paradise would be hard going, fallen trees abound, small black creeks crisscrossed the forest floor and the odd random deep hole waiting for an unsuspecting leg to break , all covered with a dozen kind off mosses, ferns and grasses. The air was thick with life too, flies, bugs and butterflies and their avian predators.

We sort of blundered around directionless, I started thinking that I’d be really lucky to find it under this thick carpet of life, so I did what I always do and headed for higher ground, better to see further and it’s usually drier and easier traversed. But brilliantly the higher ground turned out to be the long cairn. At the south east end of the cairn some stone work still shows above the mosses, right next to this cairn material is a large rectangular hole, I jumped in and had a grope about for any stone work, but the under growth was too thick. Moving north west along the length of the cairn is another deep rectangular hole, I jump in again and find lots off stone work, with only minimal furtling. After a long sit and stare about, a Jay shot through the small clearing not seeing Arthur and me till it was almost too late, it passed by about two feet from in front of our eyes. Brilliant !!!
After a much belabored circuit of the long cairn it was sadly time to go, passing back over the river again proved once more to be like a portal through worlds, from Jurassica back to Farmtopia. Swallows swooped all about us as we crossed the field, calling their shrill summer call, and not far away the almost obligatory Red Kite, this was a good one.

My computer and coflein don’t get on anymore, so I haven’t been able to find a numbering system for the barrow cemetery, so I made one of my own up. Starting in the north closest to the village of Staylittle, where most folk will come from, is barrows one and two and coming south up to number eight. Eight barrows in a cemetery one and a quarter miles long, most at the valley bottom except two on the hills to either side of the valley.

I came at them from the south, because I’d just been to the long cairn at Cwm Biga.
So barrow 8 was the first barrow we came to. It’s on the eastern side of the small road. Behind some buildings, but it’s all but gone. Maybe a mound less than a foot tall, and hidden in dense vegetation. I never even took a picture, that doubtful I was as to whether it was there at all. But over the fields I could see barrow 7. Back in the car, two hundred yards north, and I parked right next to barrow 7, it’s ten yards over the fence. About five feet tall, and from some directions it melds right into the countryside, hiding in plain site.Barrow 8

Barrow 6 so the map and google earth says is hidden in a forestry plantation, but it’s all been recently chopped, revealing the barrow nicely.
Turning right off the road and driving up a rapidly disappearing track, we were soon off roading and
able to park within fifty feet of the barrow. I left Arhtur the jack russell in the car whilst I jumped the fence and carefully traversed the broken ground where the trees had been. The barrow is at least two meters tall, and the tree stumps surrounding look like some kind off kebing. The barrow has lots of different grasses on top and is a nice place to sit and survey the valley, even if the trees had still been here I think it would have been a nice place, barrows 7,4 and 3 are visible from here, and barrow 8 were it still there.

Back to the car and back to the main road, turn right, head north two hundred meters, spot barrow 4 through gate in the corner of the field. carry on past it turn left and park in the corner of a small housing estate. Arthur and me walked into the corner of some common land, where kids make dens and tarzies, over a small fence and through a small gate brings us out right behind barrow 4. Again it’s about two meters tall but considerably more spread than the other barrows.
From here barrows 3 and 6 can be seen on opposite hillsides. Back to the car and head north for a hundred metres park on the right by footpath sign.

Barrow 5 can be seen at the top of the field in front of more forestry trees. I skirted round the field keeping to the path for as long as possible, but in the end the barbed wire topped fenced has to be jumped. Arthur’s helped over, then my turn, riiiiip, crap, they were my favorite trousers, torn too badly to fix, they’ll have to be chucked away on my return home. The barrow is the smallest of the octuplets, maybe a meter tall. From here I can see more barrows on the valley floor, 1 and 2 I presume. Back to the car, Arthur is intrigued by the sheep but feels no compulsion to chase, good boy.

Barrows 1 and 2 are reached along a farm track, I leave Art in the car and walk off towards the farm. Barrow 1 comes first, about half way from the road and the farm, situated on a small spit of land by the track over looking a small river that eventually empties into the reservoir.
The interior of the barrow is seriously scooped, but would have been near three meters tall had it been intact.

A hundred yards south west is the best barrow in the complex, Barrow 2. Intact and unscooped from here I can see barrow 2, 5 and 3 . The field with two barrows has sheep and some big cows, but the sheep don’t run and baa away, the cows don’t get too excited and I’m left to roam at will.

On the hill further south west is Barrow 3, the only one that I don’t attempt to get to, but from the other barrows I can see that it’s situated not at the top of the hill but half way down on a false crest so as to be seen on the horizon. And that is Staylittle barrow cemetery a remarkable place, hidden in a valley away from prying eyes, it’s not the kind of place you stumble upon as it’s in the middle of no where, but a very pretty no where.

Like BeakerUK and probably dozens of other would be visitors my first attempt to find this particular giants grave ended in frustrated failure. I was precisely where the map indicated I should be, but there was no sign of it, destroyed thought I or too well hidden in the undergrowth. I gave up and went on my merry way for several years, until I came on here and discovered my mistake, no not mine Ordnance surveys mistake, bad map, naughty map.

As has been said the cairn circle is on the other side of the road, right next to where I parked this time and probably last time too. Ferns still try to hide it from everyone who comes by, a secret cairn is this one, hidden by nature and science alike, until now.

A half buried donut it resembles with stones poking out from both the inner side of the bank and the outer. Some stones are loose and free to roam suggesting they’re extra cairn material.
A nice place to sit and contemplate the world around us, and the immediate world around us is extremely pleasing to the eye. West in the distance is white and black Combe moving north over Thwaites fell and Ulpha fell on to Harter fell and up up and away to White Maiden and the Old man of Coniston, and beyond all that the high peaks of Ska fell and it’s near neighbors poke there heads over the hill tops. Awesome. Then the view draws in to the nearby Blawith Knott, and directly behind us the road and car parking space and the nearby high ground perfect for photographing an overview of the site.

All in all an interesting site with an almost overpowering view, god knows why it took so long for me to get back here. Yes i do it’s Wales’ fault.

From Lacra D a gateless gap in the wall shows the way to this the best of the complex. Volcanic ash is once again used to form a circle, fifteen meters across, and once of maybe eleven stones, only six remain, the missing five leaving obvious gaps in the ring. Three of the six stand over a meter high, two of the stones are very egg shaped and nice to look at, rough to the touch but gentle in curve.

A very nice circle despite nearly half of it is gone, in the center one stone pokes through the grass, perhaps part of the cremated bone containing kerbed central ring. From here the possible stone row can be seen, though I didn’t know it at the time, yet somehow I still managed to photograph it.
I rolled my camera bag in my cardigan and used it to impersonate one of the missing stones, to good effect I reckoned too. See last pic.
Considering we started the day at Swinside, well known for being one of the best stone circles in the world, I still hugely enjoyed this complex of circles, rows and avenues. Well worth a visit

I saw without seeing, looked at but did not find, recognised without knowing this stone row. From Lacra B I was surveying the surroundings and spotted this three stone alignment just fifty or so yards down the hill a bit, I took a picture and made a mental note to mention it to Alken, then immediately forgot all about it, distracted by the lovely little ring behind me. D’oh .
Looking at my picture and the few others, I’ve got to go along with stone row rather than the surviving arc of a circle. Also it is at a similar alignment to the Giants grave stone pair not far to the west from here, that is north east to south west.
Wish i’d been less daydreamy and gone for a closer look.

From Lacra A the obvious place to go to next is the widely dispersed collection of disparate stones approximately east from there, about two minutes away, dodging the wet ground in the hollow between the two.
We quickly and easily identified Lacra D amongst these stones, and running by it the maybe avenue mentioned by Aubrey Burl, so far he was being a bang up guide, if a little vague in directing us from circle to circle.
Our guide describes this circle as a very ruinous oval
with a large flat slab in the circles center, but no other central features were found, that means, I believe, that we do not know any more about it, was it once up right, or is it one of those famed druidical sacrificial tables. All the stones like Lacra A are of volcanic ash‘
Despite it’s ruinous state I quite liked this one, the stones are all at least twice as big as the other circle we’ve just come from, well three of the circles stones are, on the other side of the circle the stones are much smaller, if they are even circle stones at all, they could be from the avenue.
The avenue, which Burl says runs to the ring, may even go right past it and off towards Lacra B, he describes the avenue as possible but virtually unrecognisable, I’d go along with that.
So far Lacra hill is proving a fertile ground for pondering the mysteries of stone circles.

Just down the road from the Giants grave standing stones, on the south way out of Kirkstanton is another road/rail track crossing, we parked here (room a’plenty) and then walked back down the road to the start of the footpath.
The path starts by crossing the rail track then squelches up into the fields, at times steep, at times a gentle stroll . The sheep round here have paint on them red, orange and yellows, as if farmer was practicing sunsets on his sheep.

There are according to Aubrey Burl, who will be our Lacra guide for today, five sites up here, A through to E, we had no idea which was which and wouldn’t do until we found one and equated it with Burls lettering system. We decided to head for the circle nearest to the ruined farm as that circle is right next to a track and therefore plausibly the easiest to find.

We found it easy enough, six small stones of volcanic ash, only two of which are standing. By the looks of it about half of the stones are missing, it’s a real shame. At least nowadays they don’t take the stones away, they just climb on them or paint on them, demons all.
We can tell by the ruins of this circle that we are at Lacra A, and not far away we can see more stones, but is it B, C, D, or E or possibly the avenue of stones, who knows, lets get over there and find out.

Very easily found by the road/rail track crossing, just a two minute walk along the field edge.
Do they really mark the site of a burial ? I’ve seen nothing that points that way, Eight and a half miles north east is a proper Giants grave, that one is definitely a burial site. But these are just two standing stones . Just ? ....... heck no . These are two of the best standing stones in England, or rather, the best pair of standing stones in England, the only thing like them to my mind are the Piper stones in Cornwall, but they are so far apart to be hardly a pair.
With the grassy fields leading down to the coast there is even a Cornish feel to the place, only the considerable bulk of Black Combe gives away our northern location. There are cup marks on them as well, large and small, but I don’t think I saw them all, though I looked, perhaps the sun at a lower angle could reveal more.
Highly visible just out to sea was a long island, at the time I didnt know where it was, Piel island ? or some other equaly little known place, upon my home return I saw that it could only be the Isle of Man, but it looked soooo close, thirty six miles at their closest, but it looked much closer, no more than ten at least.
Lacra hill is close to and also highly visible from here, I wonder if the stones can be seen from up there, only one way to find out, and off we go to find at least three stone circles.

This was my first visit that wasn’t on the winter solstice, summer can be a most agreeable season, no hats and gloves, no rain or ice, just a warm breeze, my good buddy Alken and one of thee best stone circles ever.
Apparently only five out of sixty of the porphyritic slate stones have gone away (that’s a postal term) without leaving a forwarding address might I add. But it takes nothing away from this most magnificent of ancient places, the views attained from this position are inspiring. From south through west to north are the big hills Knott, Grey stones, and Swinside fell, but on the eastern side the views stretch far and wide, to the Old man of Coniston and beyond.
But best of all is the view from half way up Swinside fell, you can see down onto Duddon sands either side of Knott hill, you can see off into Lancashire, and you can see down onto the perfect circle that is Sunkenkirk, perfect that is till you realise that someone down there is climbing on the stones.

After about an hour to ourselves amongst the stones a couple of older ladies came, we decided to let them have the stones to themselves for a while whilst we climbed the hill a bit to get some more perspective of the whole arena chosen by the ancients as the position for this big circle. Whilst we were up there a family of five arrived, and zooming down onto the stones revealed a crime so heineous that it has no name, the care free parents were letting their three kids climb on the stones and in places jump from stone to stone. When we arrived back at the circle they had scared away the two older ladies and were having their wicked way with our beloved best freind, Alken and I exchanged desperate looks, mind melded for an instant and it was time to go, the moment had most definitely gone, we left telling our selves “other stones to see and all that” Don’t look back, don’t look back.

This is, I feel one of the most underrated, under visited and one of the most interesting and important sites in North Wales. As Bladup pointed out it is almost a carbon copy of Fontburn four poster in Northumberland themodernantiquarian.com/site/6354/fontburn_dod_wood.html
and I wholly agree. But from my first visit I decided that it was unfair to have gorse bushes molesting and hiding two of the four stones, so last time I came I took it on as my duty to remove one of the gorse bushes as best as I could. That was almost six months ago, and I wanted to see what it looked like now, so armed with my trusty shears I stumbled and staggered back to the four poster, as my last visit of the day. My camera had run out of batteries, this can happen after ten hours of photography, and 639 photos, but I took it anyway just in case it let me have a few more pictures, it did, but only five, then that was it.

Some small patches of grass have started to regrow in the brown patch left by my handy work six months ago, and it looked like someone had already made a start on the other bigger gorse bush, unless that was also me getting a head start last time. So I laid into it with more gusto than someone whose been up for over thirty hours should have, at the time I felt no pain or fatigue, but the day after I ached in places that don’t ever get used, and still hurt now three days later. But in the end the bush was gone, it looks a bit of a mess, so i’ll go back in the autumn to tidy up and finish off. Then in a couple of years I’m sure people will be coming from far and wide to see the only four poster stone circle in North Wales, and will have no idea the toil involved by a single person unknown. Clandestine gardener, that’s me.

From Caer Bach fort take the south west path, passing the possible four or five clearance cairns, at these small cairns turn off path and go south through the gate and the cairn is directly in front of you. It is set amongst other larger boulders that look very up right and suspicious and too close to the cairn to be unrelated.

I found this site on the portal, and had to immediately go find it, seeing as it’s not far from home (relatively) and quite close to the great Orme where I watched the sunrise earlier this morning, this was no problem.

The best features of this cairn are the almost intact cist in the middle, it has three large stones forming an open ended box, no capstone unfortunately. Around the north west arc of the cairn is some kerb stones, two rows of them. But on the south side they are all but gone, the cairn is almost undetectable from about twenty yards away, there is no mound to it, no cairn material at all. Just like the Caer Bach cairn about a kilometer to the north, it is disguised as just another non feature amongst these hills.

Gee whiz I love this place, just down hill from here is Maen y Bardd, and all that round there, there are also many settlements, and probably much more waiting to be discovered and described. One could spend a considerable chunk of ones life exploring between the river and the mountains, there’s a lot to see.
But i’m done here for today, one more site left to see and just enough time to see it, back to the car.

Going for shortest fieldnote record. Map shows four cairns, only found three, could be clearance cairns. Found next to path south of Caer Bach.
Disappointing.

About a kilometer west of Llangelynin Church, a visit should be combined with that of Maen Penddu, indeed it should be unavoidable they are so close, about fifty yards at most.
Situated slightly above the standing stone and out of view of it, does that have any meaning I don’t know.
The stones, of which I could only find five, are very small and easily lost in the heather, one of which had broken so I expertly put it back together again as best I could.
The circle is cut off on its south side by the footpath that runs past it, the map says cairn but the stones say circle, i’m going with circle as it’s more exotic?
The exact siting of the stone circle if that is what it is, is a tad perplexing, it shuns views north to the Druids circle and environs, it hides over the rise from Maen Penddu, you cant even see down to the river Conwy, it is well and truly hidden amongst the hills.

About one kilometer west of Llangelynin Church, it’s a fair old yomp to the stone but just for company there is also a stone circle/cairn twenty yards away or so from it.
Standing between six and seven feet tall this is a very hefty stone, thin on one side and wide on the other, possibly aligned in the direction of the Maen y Bardd dolmen.
Stood next to the stone, only the view east is open, a feeling of being enclosed by the hills is felt, but gain some height on one of the numerous hillocks or quarry spoil and the views open out, from here I can see the Great orme, the Druids circle, and perhaps Hendre Weolod down by the river past Cerrig y Ddinas fort.
A short walk over the hills to the south brings you back to Caer Bach hill fort, lots of cairns and on to many splendid stones. Lead on McDuff.

It can’t be much more than a hundred yards from fort to cairn, but no one seems to have noticed it before, or passed over it in favour of a more impressive site.
It is a very flat cairn, no hump or bump, no scooped interior, just some kerb stones give it away. Despite it’s seemlessly melting into the hill side, I really quite liked it. Great views, great weather, and it looks like the fort mirrors it’s meltingintothehillsideyness. (that’s my new word, watch the dictionary)

I took heed of Skins advice and parked up at Llangelynin church, a pretty little church high up in the hills below Tal y Fan, reached by a thin little hair pinned road. In the corner of the church yard is a walled natural spring, perhaps used in the iron age by the inhabitants of Cerrig-y-Ddinas hill fort, though there are other wells and a couple of springs around. Some people could come just for the well, but there is a lot more up in these hills on the edge of Snowdonia, I’ve been up here a dozen times already and still keep needing to make return trips.

From the well I made my way into the next field, directly south, for in this field is a hut circle. Alas I could see nothing of it at all, not even a maybe. I didn’t spend too long looking because I’ve got a long way to go, and many sites to get to. Orienting myself from the church to the peak of Tal y Fan, I more or less walked straight to the fort of Caer Bach. North west of the fort I first came to a stone circle, (be it stone circle or hut circle or kerb cairn I do not know) well half a one the other half had gone thanks to the footpath, tut.

This is such a weird hill fort, firstly it’s not on a hill as such, of all the hill tops around they chose a slight bump of a hill. Maybe they weren’t looking to dominate the whole valley down to the Conwy river, just the immediate locale, the path going past it is i’m sure an ancient one, an important trackway through the hills, the Roman road Sarn Helen is really close by.

The fort has ditches, but up on the fort proper there are what look like old walls, big boulders joined together by smaller fist sized stones. Then there’s that big stone in the middle, aligned maybe on Moel Eilio, or maybe not.
Nearby is a strange megalithic structure, probably natural but possibly enhanced by human hands, the capstone on the chamber is too big and the chamber too small(see Sweetcheats pics) also nearby is a cairn, my next port of call, no idea what it’s like so it could be a nice suprise, or maybe not.
So much to see, and so mysterious, marvelously mysterious.

Seeing as I’ve just been to the fort and rocking stone above these caves , I just had to come down and explore further.
Further that is than last time, I had both kids with me that time, but now ive got the place to myself. Time to find that elusive upper cave.
First of all I scarambled up on top of the big main cave, vertigo tried to pull me down but I soldiered on and got there, no hidden caves here but good views and a nearby Jackdawery .(as in rookery)
Then I moved along back behind main cave, climbed a tall fence, twice, in and out. Then came back down to the path and found a cave i never found before, They’ve tried to close the caves smaller entries, leaving the big entrance, reached along the path behind the main cave. This could be Kendricks upper cave , it is higher up than the other. But then the coflein description still sounds like they are both one and the same cave. From there it is one minute back to main cave passing some seriously scorched rock shelters one had a stomach churning matress in it,gulp. Any way the caves are here , I really built up a sweat and a hunger from scrambling around, time for some butties ....on the way to some more stones.

Carl is right, the easiest way to the fort is up past the modern stone circle, but no fence jumping is necessary, keep going through the childhood memory that is happy valley past the toboggan run and a path is clear to the left.
Brilliantly I chose a different route.
Seeing as I was coming down off the Orme, I parked near the halfway tram house had a quick zoom at llety’r Filiast and the copper mine, then headed over to some limestone outcropping for a look down on Pen y Dinas and some long views across Llandudno and over to Snowdonia.
Whilst there I shared the view only with a dozen mountain goats, with long impressive curving scimitar like horns. From up here I could make out on zoom the rocking stone on the west side of the fort, some of the defences and even the information board in the center. But best of all was just looking down on my old family holiday haunt, Criag y don, my dad would tell the taxi dude, Mrs Bardell owned the holiday house. One year we watched an air display from on this very hill fort, but I didnt know that till today.
There aren’t any impressive defences, but you can just make out the odd curving bank here and the semi circular hut circle up against the scarp that is the forts last defence. Near the information board is an alignment of small boulders between two big ones, god knows what they are.
A good place, not a great fort but a good place, good for watching foxes, people below, and air dispalys.
Ive probably spent too long here now too long by half but theres still one more Great Ormer to go, it’s time for the caving segment of the day. Hi-di-hi campers.

Just like the town in which it resides, this stone don’t rock no more. Well it’s either that or i’m not as innocent as I’d hoped. The rockless rocking stone is situated on the western side of Pen y Dinas hillfort, it’s about six feet long by two feet high. It has a worn metal plaque proclaiming in English and Welsh only it’s name, like a boy after school whose friends parents came and went long ago, the stone sits by the edge, lost and forgotten, poor thing. A poor thing it might be , but it still sits and watches over the north end of Llandudno and after my close encounter with two young foxes, I sit upon the rockless rocking stone and forget for a while about everything even the fact that i’m sitting in a hillfort. A good place to sit and watch, bring your binoculars.

I arrived at 03.45 am, the birds were singing for all they are worth, the all night afar glow of summer solstice was in the sky, and all was right with the world. The stones seemed to glow in the darkness, giving back the light absorbed in the day, (I know). the fence around it has gone, but the greyhound got out years ago. Photographing stones in very low light is a right pain, I wish i’d known at school what I know now, I would have got a plan, you would know me. But I didn’t and you won’t, and this is the best I can do.

If you need to be on the road by two am, as painful as that sounds it’s not as painful as deciding if it’s worth going to bed at all. I plumped for staying up without sleep for a day, but with two days of oversleeping under my belt, so after a time team or two I was packed up and the only one on the road by 2am.
The summer solstice is a special time of year, not just for those with megalithic tendencies, but just because it doesn’t get really dark. Even at two am, the ever present glow of long northern summers can be seen brighter than half a dozen full moons.

After a quick night visit to lleyty’r Filiast, and narrowly missing a police car on the thin mountain road, I was parked up near St Tudnos church and well. I love being up rediculously early, loads of different birdsong, clearish blue skies and not a soul about, excepting road hogging cops. Brilliant.
It’s barely a ten minute walk to the stones, I simply turned right on the path across the grass when I got to a left hand turn in the track, walked straight to it. Plenty of time to .....erm, tidy the place up a bit before the birthday boy comes. We want to look our best don’t we?

At the top of the hill are two large boulders which look like they could’ve once stood up more erect like. The ragged remains of the two rows run downhill for nearly a hundred yards, where the ground dives steeply but navigably down to the coast. I quickly sought every stone in the rows, especially the ones covered in gorse, moss, ferns and grasses, revealing in the process, a stone that looked like a large elongated skull with eye sockets like for a spider. They could have been cup marks but were most probably just the way limestone erodes.

Ooh quick the suns coming, I scamper back up to the top, ready my camera, ready my soul for it’s yearly dose of solstice power and set my face to stunned. The big orange ball slowly lifted it’s self out of the sea, (you don’t see that very often, well, I don’t. ) with all the majesty and magnificence that only an actual star can have, then it was over and that was it, a new day had dawned. In ancient Egypt it would be new year and the Nile has flooded, but, if I was even remotely affected by the solstice power, only the day ahead would tell, I as ever set myself as many targets as my legs will carry me too.

As tear jerkingly beautiful as the sun rise was, it is not part of any alignment with the stone rows, they point too far to the north, it could be aligned on something on land, the stone rectangle above the rows, or the Ormes peak, or something far out to sea, Morcambe bay perhaps, incidentaly the Isle of Man was very visible and distinct to the north. Or perhaps it really was for Deers to walk up and down on.

I found this one whilst trawling through Cofleins vast array of blue dots, something I used to be happy to spend a whole day doing. This is what Coflein says of it.... Site Description

Record derived from GAT SMR. One massive elongated rock above 3 other smaller rocks. If larger broken rock boulder was entire it would be laid at an angle perhaps supported by smaller stones now collapsed. Suggests IR may be collapsed megalithic monument. Appears to be natural landform.

I made a pact with the god of maybe to one day get there and see it for myself, after pinpointing it’s exact position, and working it into a long walk over and round the Carneddau, I finally made it, it only took two years.

The dolmen ? is on the edge of a settlement of some sort, if my memory serves it might only be medieval, (sorry to any medievalists, but then what are doing on a prehistory website)
Nestled at the bottom of precipitous cliffs below Bwlch y Tri Marchog on a slight rise, it seems to be in a proper position to be a megalithic site. The big capstone is indeed broken in two, if it was whole it would look a whole lot more like a dolmen, but maybe we’ll never know for sure. For now the disputed antiquity label very much applies here.
One thing that is for sure is it’s outstanding position, wild and wonderful, if you do come set faces to stunned, and enjoy.

You wont be able to see this cairn from the car, in fact you can’t see this cairn from anywhere except up in the mountains, way up in the mountains. So get off your arse, get some comfortable clothing and some stout shoes (don’t know what that means but..) and come and see not just this cairn but some of the best countryside there is in Wales, or Britain for that matter.
Situated just below Carnedd Llewelyn, third highest mountain in Wales and England, and just above Craig yr Ysfa, a narrow ridge between Pen yr Helgi Du and Pen Llithrig y Wrach, I may have said at times that some other areas are beautiful, but if that is so then this place is heaven, an earthly paradise for those of us who like beautiful places.

Tristan, as in Tristan and Iseult, was a Knight of Arthur’s round table, Tristan whose name in Cornish means sadness, went on the grail hunt with all the other knights. After not finding the grail (we all know it is a person) he was buried here in Snowdonia. Or so they say.....
The cairn itself is a bit of a weird one, it is either the small, very small pile of stones on a natural knoll half way up the mountain ,or it is the knoll itself. From the south the knoll looks very cairn shaped, if it is the cairn it would be bigger than the two on Grach and Llewelyn.
But regardless of who is buried here if anyone at all and regardless of how big the cairn is it’s the place that boggles the mind, and my mind was utterly boggled, I wish I was there right now.

We ascended the Carneddau via the twin lakes of Dulyn and Melynllyn. Whilst sheltering from the absolutely ferocious winds we consumed some butties in the refuge on Foel Grach. En route from Grach to Llewelyn we stood and admired Yr Elen for a while whilst momentarily out of the wind. Ive seen her through the winter mist from Dafydd but this is the first time I’ve seen her from above, and she is very pretty.
But tearing our selves away we carry on towards the third highest mountain in Wales and England, and therefore the highest cairn in Wales and England. The mountain top is a wide area as big as a football pitch, strewn with wind and frost tormented rock formations that strangely reminded me of Gaudi’s Sagrada Família in Barcelona.
Everywhere is covered in shrapnel from these rocks leaving us in no doubt where all the material for the cairn came from, none of this carrying stones from miles away, there’s enough material here for half a dozen Loughcrew type chambers, and wouldnt that be very cool. So why such a comparatively small cairn, ten meters from the cairn is a wind shelter, perhaps they took these stones from the cairn, surely the cairn on Llewelyn can’t have been smaller than Grach’s or Dafydd’s, or just perhaps the preeminent mountain top was enough, pole position is pole position it doesn’t have to be bigger because it’s already on top as it were. But if a beard clothed giant were interred here you’d expect a bigger cairn, wouldn’t you.
There was quite a lot of people up here, some were definitely not suitably attired, but what is suitably attired on such a hot day, i’m used to wrapping up warm and hiding from the rain.
It was time to go, still many miles to cover, we sadly bid adieu to Carnedd Llewelyn and made our way down to Tristans cairn then further down to Craig yr Ysfa, the narrow ridge between Pen yr Helgi du and Pen Llithrig y Wrach, going down on to the ridge and back up the other side was not too taxing but it was certainly no walk in the park, but it was absolutely the best part of the walk, apart from the moment when Alken stumbled whilst fumbling with his camera, “whoa whoa whoa” said I. Legs shaking and muttering the occasional swear word we made it, now for a scramble off the mountain at Bwlch y tri Marchog and a long walk along the Cwm Eigiau and the reservoir.
Staggering, in more than just one way.

We made our ascent of Foel Grach by way of the twin lakes Melynllyn and the Dulyn, both now utilised as reservoirs. It was not too steep, but it was a long slog, alleviated by long superb views back down to the Afon Conwy and good company.
We reached the long path across the whole Carneddau almost half way between Grach and Llewelyn, and turned right towards Foel Grach.

It was evidently the rain gods week off, but in his place came the god of high winds, and he really takes his job seriously, amongst the gods he’s known as a bit of a jobsworth. I have never felt such strong winds, it was difficult standing in one place and impossible to walk in a straight line, eyes would tear, and at times you need hands as well as feet to get around with. Yet through it all the sun shines fiercely, suntan/sunburn fierce, visibility good but not perfect.

The cairn is quite substantial, a good portion of it is rock outcrop though, the cairn material has spread considerably. Still it’s a wonder it’s here at all, Iv’e seen a few of Snowdonia’s mountain top cairns now and this is one that is more on the impressive side. Just below the cairn is a mountain refuge, cosy and comfy, half of me wants to spend the night there, and experience night time on the mountains and sunrise in the morning would be to die for.

The surroundings are nice, extreeemly nice. A dream time place, where signs and portents should always be heeded, where gods are real and all around us. The high plattau of Carnedd Llewelyn beckons us on but not till we’ve had a good long gawp at Yr Elen. It’s my first time, be gentle with me.

Whilst nonchalantly treading the path from from the car park near Llyn Eigiau to the Carneddau high peaks via Pant y Griafolen we came across two upright stones one about six foot the other about two to three foot tall, almost jokingly we immediately labelled it a stone row. Then we saw the fallen stone a couple of feet away from the bigger one, and then it was no way this really might be a stone row, seemingly aligned on Pen y Castell mountain. Then to see that Coflien (were not worthy) has it down as a possible stone row, I’m quite confidant to say it is a bona fide stone row, more so than Ffrith y Bont to the north east one/two miles away.
God bless Coflein, but more than that god bless the ancients for erecting so many sites in such an amazing place, for the area is just packed and is very beautiful.

From Castell, north of Tal y Bont, overlooking the Afon Conwy, go west, the turning is right next to the Afon Dulyn, but the river can’t be seen from the road so look for the pub named Y Bedol and take the first turning east south of it. (hope that made sense)
This eastward road is one car wide for most of the way, it’s steep and winding, but it looks over the river valley shaded from the fierce sun by trees, it’s some truly beautiful countryside.
The road straightens out and goes past where you should park for Hafodygors wen fourposter stone circle. just keep on the same road until it runs out and park here, room for maybe twenty cars, but in good weather it soon fills up.
Upon exiting the car, south east is the small mountain of Moel Eilio, with bronze age settlement, south east is cairn topped Pen llithrig y Wrach. But we turn our backs on them and follow the well laid and often trod path to Clogwyn-yr-Eryr, superb views north east to Pen y gaer, and when you get round the corner and heading west and south west, we pass by a possible stone row. Keeping on, the path delves further and further into the mountains, off to the right of the path is a small settlement, we stopped for a nosey, as you do, but the big places beckon and we’ve a long walk ahead of us, so off we go down the hill. From a distance, if you know where to look the settlement of Pant y Griafolen can be seen from miles away. We ignored the path beseeching us to go that way, and went this way instead cut straight across cross the river it isn’t deep or wide, heading for a stand of pine trees with an obvious tumbled stone wall beneath it.

Pant-y-Griafolen was..... is ... a large settlement, the best way to see it would be to hover about fifty feet above it. Only the most obvious of walling can be seen, a number of hut circles, not
the reputed thirty. But then we weren’t here for extensive field walking, no hut counting, just passing by, playing through. Our long walk intends to take in three mountain peaks two with cairns, it’s very attractive to think that the occupants of one of those cairns could have lived here, perhaps in that large hut circle right there.
This isn’t the best preserved of settlements, but hey it’s over three thousands years old, that’s twice as old as say, Mayan Temples, when three thousand years you reach look so good you will not.

I opted for the “with son ” option for this becairned not too high mountain, not too high, but I brought the bikes just to sweeten the deal.
I parked up at the Pondorosa cafe near the Horseshoe pass, from there the well made concrete path up to the top is only fifty feet down the road, without much of a do we started our bike ride/push up to the top. After several stops we got near the top from here we could see Cairn topped Moel y Gamelin and in the opposite direction Dinas Bran capably watches over the Vale of Llangolen.

Just one rediculously steep part of the path to go (Eric noted that he was not going to ride down that) and we were at the top, next to the television mast and Cryn y Brain II, the best of the bunch of cairns up here. Sheltering whimsies have rearranged the cairn material, but it does nothing to hide the cairns true size. Eric pointed out all the quartz stones used in the cairn, well spotted mate. Grand views to Moel y Gamelin and off to distant Snowdonia and futher north the Clwyd range , I think I could see the Jubilee tower on Moel Famau.

From Cryn y Brain II we follow the path which is no longer concrete, (as it’s used for folk coming up to the masts) to Sir Watkins tower and the trig point cairns. Passing a low heather covered cairn on our left. I don’t know who this Sir Watkins was but how dare he park his crappy tower on a bronze age cairn, just how dare he, then to compound the insult the ordnance survey stick a trig point on the other cairn right next to it.
How dare they all.
It’s snowing now, snowing in May, how rude, perhaps its nature showing me it’s still in control, another century and the trig point will be rubble and part of the cairn, Watkins tower is already a pile of rubble, so all things considered the transient nature of the place consoles me, nothing stays the same.

On the way back, near Cryn y Brain II, I spotted another likely looking heather covered cairn, but the snow was coming down thicker now and we were not dressed for that so we started the exciting ride down. It would have been exciting but for Eric’s fall the other week in the Preseli’s. It made him far to careful and he was far too reticent to just let go and trust in gravity, but it still got us down in a fraction of the time walking would have done.

Easy enough to find this stone and barrow, once you’ve successfully navigated around the tiny, steep, and confusing lanes. Approach the site from the north, OS map has the barrow further south than it really is, it is actually right on the summit of the 371 m high hill. I actually saw the barrow from the stone in the wall but didn’t go to it from there instead I drove south around the fields and then climbed the hill again only to find myself back where i’d started more or less.

The standing stone had a Buzzard perched on it when we arrived, but it wasn’t going to let me get too close, or even close at all, as soon as I got out of the car it scarpered, scaredy cat.
The stone is about fifty meters from the road, broad on one side and thin on the other,aligned east/west ish, six feet tall, and about fifty meters from the stony tumulus.

Instead of the labour intensive drive and walk round, I should have just walked over to the tumulus jumped over the low wall and been stood on it’s crown in less than two minutes, d’ohhh!
The mound of stones stands about two feet tall and is on a low turfed mound about a foot tall. There are long views to the rolling hills and through them to Cheshire. To the west Y foel rises to 522meters and beyond that the hills only get bigger. But right here at the barrow we are in a big bowl surrounded almost completely by these low hills.
A passing tractor has me at a disadvantage, I feel i’m intruding and beat a hasty retreat back to the car, the long way round.

I can’t believe I didn’t add any field notes from my last visit six years ago, even though that was more than half a lifetime ago for Eric he still said “oh I remember this one” and that was before we even got to it.

Heading south out of Llanglydwen, take your first right turn, then turn right into the track that leads to Penbontbren cottage, they let me park there last time but this time I leave it further up the track in the corner to one side, then walk down to the house and pass it by on it’s right hand side, through a red gate. Then take your left hand fork passing a standing stone/old gate post and in one minute the most beautiful of Preseli’s chromlechs is revealed.
Looking down over the river but not in site of it, is the greyhounds lair, what is it with greyhounds lairs in Wales? there is at least three that i’ve been to, is it the ancient name for it or a modern thing?
I walk around and around it, taking pictures from strange angles that I didn’t explore last time, but last time the whole family and the dog were here, this time it’s just Eric and me, and he’s got a new football, so i’m free to go this way and that. Some chalked/burnt stick graffiti is on the inside, including a spiral in black, it’s all old stuff that’s wearing away, it’ll be gone by autumn.

On the edge of the Preseli mountains but not in site of it, this is a must see dolmen, so many pictures of Coaten Arthur and Carreg Samson, this place is well under used, and little visited. A secret little gem, if i’d come a few weeks later there would have been bluebells too, so much beauty and wonder in one place would have made me quiver. Then again at work a bonus is coming my way soon, so I may come back in a few weeks, and I will be a lucky boy.

Ps.... the walk back was timed to more or less fifteen minutes, so there’s no excuses for not coming.