postman

Beware ! I will be talking enthusiastically about this place, what we are sometimes privy to is more than just a visit to some stones by someone, sometimes it’s a window onto a love affair, for it sometimes feels more like i’m documenting a love story between myself and these ancient wild high places, if I sometimes sound like a giddy child it’s because I feel like one, it’s just the best feeling in the world.

We parked in the obvious place south east of the small mountain, and rediculously I let Eric talk me into taking the bikes up with us, it wasn’t that hard going, it’s not too steep. On the way up he would look back down the path and tell me how cool it will be to ride back down, pointing out dips and jumps he would go over, we’re not mad, we had no intention to ride down from the top that would be suicide, however his second mountain lesson would be coming soon.
As we neared the top I could see what looked to be the first line of defences for the hill fort, crawling north around the side of the hill and curling west to keep those pesky invaders out.
We pass it by and reach the level ground at the top, lean our bikes against the rocks at the south east, and turn to look at the three ginormous cairns, if a mountain is lucky, no if i’m lucky a mountain will have a cairn on it, if i’m verrry verrry lucky it will have two decent cairns on it, but to get three cairns of such distinction you have to come to the magical playground of the stonehenge builders, the Preseli mountains.

I read with disappointment that Carl wasn’t impressed with the hill fort, saying little to be seen, ?? the defences can be followed all around the north of the hill and even the entrance is deep and obvious on the south side where there are no defences because of the precipitous rocks , Iv’e seen worse, much worse and whats worse is iv’e driven miles to see them, here though it is an absolute delight, a cherry on the top, for the main gatteau is the three huge cairns perched on top, keeping watch over the whole of the eastern mountain range.
The cairns have been recently restored by army preparation students, whoever they are? but they have done a grand job. We could tell by the colouration of the stones where had been restored. But they either left a bit out or someones been at it already as there is a a small scoop in the western end of the western cairn, it’s a comfy place to sit out of the wind and watch the clouds scudding over distant Carnmenyn. Carnmenyn, from here it hides from view the Carnmenyn burial chamber and the stone river, had I been alone I would go over there and introduce myself to the genius loci there. But not this time, they will have to wait till our next rendezvous. From up on top, on top of the trig point, we can see it all , west past Carnmenyn to Foal Feddau and Craig y cwm, Preseli’s highest point. North is the coast, I can see Dinas head, and closer to somewhere before me is Beddyraffanc, east is Frenni Fawr and cairns and south is Carn Ferched and further off is the megalithic complex at Glandy cross.

But the best thing is just sitting up on the central cairn watching the clouds shadows moving across the ground below, the occupants of these cairns must have been important indeed.
But the worse thing is on our way back down, on the bikes, Eric went from lower than me, but no sooner had we got fifty yards he went tumbling head first over the handle bars, and I was unable to do a thing but watch it all happen, thankfully he wasn’t hurt too much, mostly his pride, and with it comes a valueable mountain lesson, even if your thinking I can do that, it always pays to be conservative, no not them...ptui.

I e-mailed the new occupants living in the nearby house asking if my son and I could come and have a look at the stones but received no reply, so we went any way. It took two tries to get the right driveway down to the house (blurred house name on streetview says lots) but we got there eventually. I parked in the farm yard and knocked on the door, farmers wife came to the door so I asked if my son and I could have a look at the stones, using the exact words used in my e-mail, but it didn’t seem to register, no matter, she didn’t have a problem gave me some directions to the stones and off we went, would have been nice for the asked for e-mail to have made an impact though.

The stones are first seen over the wall, oooh said I they’re big ones, then we get to the gate and enter the stones field. Immediately you can see that some work is being carried out here, new fence posts and new barbed wire, not into that, not at all. But also some gorse has been removed and piled up, I am into that though, but not too much mind.
These are a fine pair of stones, the smaller western stone is more rounded and blunter, female ? and the eastern stone is taller, sharp edged and pointy, male ? whether it is a gender issue that determines the stones shape I’m not overly convinced but there is a meaning to it i’m sure.
Standing south of the stones, they frame Carn Meini, 365 meters of up thrusting weather beaten rock, and next to it the Carn Menyn chambered tomb and coming from that the stone river a most singular natural feature. There’s really a lot going on around here, I so wish it was the same in my almost local Snowdonia.
I’ll have to put in for a transfer down here.

I was looking for a way to get to the Yr Allor stones when I came across this site, I parked up outside it’s field and inspected the map. Hmmm there are so many stones around here that your just falling over them, I get out and walk over, look at the information board and ohhhh it’s Meini Gwyr, it wasn’t high on the list due to it’s ruination but it was there nonetheless .

There is still a slight circular bump to be seen, just, and the stones are still quite big, well one of them is, and they still have that inward lean that Merrick mentions in his notes. I can’t quite make out Yr Allor from here, and that is where the attraction to the place comes in, not not making things out, but, in it’s heyday this would have been a phenomenal place, so many closely fitting sites all seemingly linked together, like a mini Carnac, but it’s all over now the crowd are on the pitch it is well and truly over.

As we were passing from one place high on my list to another, we just had to stop and say a quick hi to this tall yet squat pointy standing stone. Passing east out of Maenclochog which i’m probably erroneously guessing means loads of stones, as you cant leave the village without passing one, we passed this one. It was a good one, next to wooded streams and small waterfalls, god I wish I didn’t live where I do.

Seeing as it was so close to the Dyffryn stone circle ( I refuse to call it a cairn) we rode our bikes down the road, turning left immediately after going over the bridge over happy waters. Open and close gate, ride down track and umph, a farm, hmmm what to do, worse still the farm yard was full of sheep and lambs with the farmer and his wife. i didn’t hold out much hope, the farmers wife saw us but didn’t seem to mind. We opened and closed the next gate and we were in the farm yard, I went over to the farming couple and asked if it was okay if we went over to their stone, (they like that) she said it was alright as long as we left our bikes there. Okely Dokely said I and off down the track we went, passing some ruined Reliant Robins and an old boat, which is right next to the gate that leads into the stones field.

We entered the field, scaring off two geese and walked over to the well proportioned stone. Tall and pointy it be, if i had a standing stone it would be just like this one. If you know where to look you can just make out the Dyffryn stones. To the immediate north of the menhir is Budloy mountain but at only 287 meters it’s hardly a tiring climb. En route back to the bikes which had moved when we got back, we noticed what an idyllic farm scene this was the sheep had gone but ducks were now quacking about the many streams that pass through there yard. If I had a farm I’d like it be this one.

This one had been bumping around the top of my list for ages, years, but seeing as it’s so far away, at least a three to four hour drive and North Wales is so much closer, but i’m here now and i’m not going to waste the opportunity. I parked in the entrance to the Electricity sub station just to the west of the circle, reckoning that no-one would be coming this early in the morning, and they didn’t. Then we rode the bikes down to the left hand gate , Eric’s went under the gate mine over it then a one minute ride up to the medley of animal pens, curious young cows ran alongside the fence, Eric was more interested in them than the stones so I was able to have a quiet moment or ten with the stone circle.

For it must be a stone circle, the map says only cairn but what do maps know, bah, who makes cairns with stones this big. Each stone is of a singular shape meticulously chosen for it’s odd shape, the corrugated stones are particularly interesting. One of the two tallest stones seems to have been cut in two the line of the cut so perfect it must have been a Sith lord up to mischief with his light saber. If a stone circle it be then it would have been the best stone circle in the whole of the Preselis, Gors Fawr could be walked through without noticing it by someone unused to such things, and Bedd Arthur isn’t even a circle. If you know where to look Budloy standing stone can just be seen across the slight valley.

I really liked this place, it didn’t disappoint at all, even the cows or the farming utensils did nothing to blunt my experience here, just imagine what it would be like if it was in pristine condition, mind blowing.

The path from Garn gifach burial chamber starts off easy to follow but when it crosses over a low old wall the gorse rather chokes the path impeding progress and the brambles arch over trying it’s hardest to trip over the unwary walker, I got this far before, but turned back when the path just stops at a large boulder with fencing running off in two diections, knowing all this we stride forward using brute strength, what little I have, and steely determination which I have by the bucket load, Eric found it hard going so he sat on the big boulder and watched me descend onto the gorse ridden plateau, from the big boulder only one stone can be seen in more or less the right place, not knowing whether or not this was it I just gave it a go, and hey presto Lady gate standing stone revealed her self to me.

Though standing stone is a real misnomer, it’s not totally prostrate, it still clings on to verticallity by it’s finger tips. This almost fallen menhir gave me great joy, the usual triumphant sound was absent, just a quiet immense feeling of satisfaction, accompanied by goose bumps, I’d had the words Lady gate floating around my mind for ages, we would be together one day I knew for certain, very strange I know but this was one stone that would not escape my attentions.
I waited patiently for the other-wordly lady to make an appearance, but to no avail, I even poked around under the stone, in imitation of treasure seeking, but she must of known that her riches were not in peril from me, probably too much information but I could really do with an other-wordly lady right about now.
Eric reminds me of my other respsonsabilities with a shout, I wonder if that was his first call out to me, I bid her a fond farewell and take my leave.

My first visit was hampered by deep impenetrable fog, thankfully I’d left Garnwnda and the Lady gate stone out so this was the return visit eighteen months in the making.
I parked in the same place as before, and walked through the same farm , barked at by the same dogs probably and walked up the same path, the sign pointing out the cromlech is still there but the abundant plant growth and slugs were absent, glee !

The giant capstone was easier to define from the ground without the high grasses, and the strange triangles on the upper surface of the capstone still look freaky, are they man made or natural, I don’t know but they are stained reddish as though from iron or something. Once more I climb the rocks just a few feet from the chamber and look down upon the mighty stone, held only just aloft by its small orthostats. Then I let my gaze wander around, I can’t see the Lady gate standing stone from here the crest of the hill hides it from view, just like Garnwnda does with Parc Hen standing stone, the rocks of Garn Folch hides Garnwnda and it’s chamber from me too, a complicated game of hide and seek are afoot, but i’m not sure of it’s rules or it’s meaning, if there is one. But the forts around and on Garn Fawr are highly visible, but they’re not playing the same game.
I bid the chamber adieu and set off for the elusive Lady stone, but i’ll be back soon enough.

This was the only one out of the four I hadn’t been to, Garn Wen trio....yes, Pen Rhiw wedge tomb....yes, even Carn Gilfach proved not difficult to find, but it took this my third visit to the area to find time enough for Garnwnda and it’s shy outlying menhir.
It was well worth the wait. Finding this last one wasn’t hard, once the proper place was found to leave the car, I left it next to the phone box more or less directly south of the chamber and the rocks it hides amongst. Once more upon the bikes it’s fifty yards back down the road, turn north/right up the footpath that looks like it’s going through someones back yard. The path is muddy, but it would be after all it chucked it down most of the way here, standing on tip toes looking over the wall to your right you can see the standing stone of Parc Hen. At the end of the muddy path a gate is reached, once on the other side the footpath diverges into a starburst of desire lines, the one that is in line with the footpath just traversed is the one you want, after a hundred yards look up to the rocks, a tall pointy rock on the highest part has the burial chamber under it. That said I didn’t go that way I went straight to the top and just scrambled around until I came across the chamber. When ever I find something for the first time it is impossible not to emit some sort of jubilatory sound, this one was a cross between Yaaay, and woohoo, a Yaaywhoo.

The four chambers strung along the headland from Carn Gilfach to Garn Wen are within two hundred yards at most of the same latitude, hard to do if your trying, extremely difficult to do by accident. But the thing that struck me about another similarity between this one and Carn Gilach is that they are both very very close to the rock outcrop and both have a standing stone less than two hundred yards away. I love the mystery, that tantalising hint of something close to an explanation to what was going through the minds of these ancient ancestors, there has to be answer, and here it is close to the surface, luckily I didnt visit Garn Fawr hillfort or it’s littler siblings so a return visit is assured.

Was the capstone moved to it’s current position ? or was it always there and they just jacked up one side and then propped it up on a single stone, either way the single stone looks wholly inadequate for the job, all that weight pressing down on just one small stone, carefully we entered the chamber. Cosy, if you like creepy crawlies, I don’t mind most of them, except the slimey ones, in the summer when it’s been dry for ages I could imagine staying here all night, yeah all night long. Come to Pen Caer headland and see these four chambers, but clear your mind first
and put in some effort.

From the path to the burial chamber you can see the stone in the corner of the field , but the field is covered in brambles, and I mean covered, but there is a gate behind it so I hoped to come at it from that direction, we went back to the car parked at the phone box, then rode the bikes down the road north east. The first gate we came to a stone was in the field but it isn’t the one we wanted, whether or not it’s ancient I do not know it isn’t on the map so must be a rubbing stone I guess set up by farmer.
We entered the field and rode over to it, then past it and left the bikes by a knackered old wall, then over that field to the gate, the one I could see from the path to the burial chamber, the stone is about twenty yards from the gate.

Tis a really good stone this one, as Merrick informs it is mainly triangular, changing shape as you walk round it and about seven feet tall.
A long haired kind of moss clings to it’s upper parts, making it look proper ancient. A small stone gathering is apparent under it’s northern face, presumably chock stones but they’re not chocking, is that even a word.
Visited on Monday 9th April and by that I mean right up close and I touched it with my hands.

After a Did Not Find visit to Parc Cerrig Hirion, not helped by a local that was trying to send me to the Lady stone, he obviously didn’t know his own locality, it was ever so good to find the lady stone so easy to visit, I parked to one side in the farm entrance twenty yards west of the menhir. Easy Peasy . But there is no way into the field and the pesky railings don’t half get in the way, not only do I want to get close to the stone but I want to touch it, yeah even give it a hug, all those auto fumes, no close contact, if ever there was a stone in need of a hug it’s this one.
Then to hear that Carl couldn’t even stop and have a look, settling only for a drive by, gggrrr come on mate your just not trying.

We parked west of the chambers in a small rough lay by, then rode our bikes back down the hill to the site.(weeee!!!)
And what a brilliant site it is, last time I came here the bracken was high and in full obscuring mode, but it was much better this time, no bracken growth at all, it was midday and all the dew and slugs had gone, and I had my inquisitive and questioning son with me. Couldn’t be better.

I wish i’d read Carl’s fieldnotes on this place as I now need to go back and find the big stone he describes a hundred paces away on the other side of the field. But I have read Moss’s comment on the Needle rock lookalike stone and tried to recreate Robin Heath’s photo without actually seeing it.
The two are remarkably similar and it can only be intentional, but when the capstone is in place and the I suppose there would have been a backstone to the chamber also in place and then a covering mound, the stone would be hidden. But I don’t think that would matter, the builders would know it was there and the magic would carry on working. Any alignment between the two and the midsummer sun would have to be remembered and passed on verbally as it would be lost from view, and easily forgotten.

The last of this mornings trio of hill forts on the way to somewhere else, and the only one that is actually on top of a hill.
We decided to stick to the footpath as much as possible, coming from the south west at a house/farm called Glan Tren, but alas we couldn’t find hide nor hair of it, perhaps my powers were waining but me thinks it’s been removed or hidden, not on.

So we went round the other side and parked by a playground, jumped an overly barbed wired fence and slipped and slided up the slippery slope in our well used wellies. This was another field full of sheep and lambs, I guess it’s that time of year again, when a young mans fancy is easily diverted up a hill, is that right?
The best part of the fort is on the northern side, tall banks and silted up ditches, with sheep and lambs either running away bleeting or strangely following you round.
Other parts of the fort are fenced off, this is private property, and they really don’t want you up here. I know it’s lambing time but really I’m no threat I promise. Trees block the view down over Llanybydder, but south east is open and pretty.

Difficult to visit even for the most hardened traveller.

We parked in a passing place, naughty I know but I crammed the car into one end still leaving space for passing, then walked back down to a house whose name we couldn’t make out from the road. Next to the house is a gate which we quietly crossed and made our way through another sheep and lamb infested field, why do we have so many sheep ? I don’t eat mutton or wear woolen clothes and only eat lamb rarely, who is eating all these sheep?

We made our way up to the fort, it’s quite steep but it only takes ten minutes to get to the top. This is one great hill fort, the map shows it as a spiral earthwork. The banks hiding the central summit are well over fifteen feet high, they don’t really leave much room for habitation inside, maybe a hundred, no more. There was a digger in between the two high ramparts and it had scraped back the top layer of earth, exposing much stone and some bones (probably sheep), I’m no law student but that seems illegal to me, digging inside a scheduled ancient monument. Eric wondered if Time Team had been here and we’d come during they’re tea break, he then set about trying to hot wire the digger, so I left him to it as I’d seen the battery not hooked up and the whole machine looked pretty knackered, but at least he wasn’t asking if we can go now.

We then walked a little to the north west and up hill a bit to get a view down over the fort, it was an epic view, the fort really is very impressive, and the hills gain in height to the south west where Bryn Y Gorlan stone circle is. then as we walked back down to the fort a Red Kite flew by, it’s fantastic they’ve made such a come back, and they’re so willing to fly right over you’re head instead of scarpering like a cowardly Buzzard.

I parked in the small layby off the A485 about fifty yards east from the hill fort, sadly it was persisting it down so we waterproofed ourselves and mozied on back up the road. Also after my directional cock up earlier I wasn’t in the mood for niceties so I didn’t ask for permission to get in, instead we gracefully leaped the barbed wire fence, well as graceful as wellied feet can any way, it’s only a short stroll from the fence, in fact the forts most extreme northern defences seem to be cut into by the road side embankment....shocking.

I wondered, then doubted whether any Dutch speaking Belgians had ever lived here, surely they would have been native Welsh iron age folk like anywhere in the country.
We kicked a few lambs out of the way, they’re only food after all, no, not really, I’m as soft as any vacant minded veggie. In fact it was the lambs that nearly made us turn back rather than any irate farmer, but we remained unchecked for the entire visit, it was early, raining and misty.

We started our circuit of the forts defences, noting at least two entrances east and southwest. As we passed by the southwestern gate I wondered if on a clear day we could see Sunnyhill camp the other side of Tregaron about three miles distant.
Eric leads the way round the perimeter, he knows we don’t leave till we’ve seen the entire round, and he knows this is just the first of many sites to be got to in the two days we’ve given ourselves out in the comparative wilds of south Wales, in fact this one of three hill forts is just on the way to where we’re going.
Just on the way, sadly, a longer visit with a football, kite or other child friendly activity would be better I know.

As previously promised a return trip in the spring for some better views, and man they were better, in fact I could have poked one eye out and still it would have been better than the icy fog last time almost two months ago. Seeing as it’s considerably less than a million miles away it was always going to be sooner rather than later.

We parked in the same place, where the map indicates 316 meters, we jumped the fence at the same place, but trod a more direct route to the barrow, which was pleasantly in the same place.
Nothing more to add to the barrows discription, only that the views have changed since last time, back in February the fog curtailed the view to about fifty yards, today it was at least fifty miles.
To the north past the Bow stones (two early Christian sculptured stones) to Lyme Park, north east down to the Murder stone, west is the long barrow topped Spond’s hill, east and south is the best view with the evocatively named Windgather rocks on Taxal edge, Cats tor (519m), Shining tor (559m Cheshire’s highest point), and way off in the distance Shutlingsloe.
I’ll be back soon ish to check out the barrows on Sponds hill, and survey the area from that different perspective.

Just a five minute drive from beside Reed hill with it’s still impressive round barrow is this pretty little stone, murder stone or not it’s a nice one.
The stone was just off the map so I was going on a vague memory from too many years ago, luckily Iv’e got the stone finding knack, I parked by the newly renovated farm house, just off the small lane and five minutes later we were at the pretty little stone.

The shape of the stone whilst not unique (superficially Maen Llia like) is undoubtedly intentional, they didn’t just pick the nearest likely large stone, this one was special, how so I can not say. But what they couldn’t have known (or perhaps they did) was how the colours would come out after being exposed to the elements for four thousand years or so, oranges, yellows, reddish browns, it was really quite beautiful.

The positioning was paramount too, very visible from a long way to the south and east and west but not north as there is a big hill behind it. It also has a tentative connection with the barrow on Reed hill, presumably of the same (ish) date, as the stone seems to sit in the lea of the great hill, maybe even saluting the hill and barrow.

On the way back to the car we saw two older gents out for a walk, one of them was of African descent, it’s always nice to see a diverse mix of people out in the countryside, I hope they had a look at the stone.

On the B5470 three miles south of Whaley Bridge turn east off the main road. Park by the footpath sign. Walk up the track towards Charles Head farm then strike off to the right up hill following the wall. The Bowl barrow will come into view soon enough.

Mascots short and sweet field notes just aren’t good enough, and because he hasn’t included any Os ref there’s no link to streetmap. That said at least he added it. (OS ref. added – TMA Ed.)
The barrow has been delved into, a pity as the barrow is only a couple of feet high, the wall running over it adds to the insult. But it’s in a good place, views to the west are long and clear, Kerridge hill a hogs back of a hill dominates the fore ground. To the North the bulk of Reed hill with its large and impressive barrow, and beyond that the Murder stone sits on it’s hillock below a higher hill. To the east is Taxal edge with Windgather rocks, which a previous visit to has taught me that they are more impressive close up.
Thirty meters south of the barrow is a two foot tall stone, with a sheep ground moat round it, is it a coincidental erratic or an outlying stone connected to the barrow.
PS, even in the afternoon sunshine the wind is strong and cold and not for the first time I wish I’d brought my coat.

We came down from the north past Lamaload reservoir and down the lovely Clough brook valley, passing the intriguingly named village of Bottom o’ the oven.
Parking for the stone is at a one car place next to Allmeadows guest house, there is a footpath running through it. The footpath takes one down to where the River Dane joins up with the Clough Brook, a really pleasant place indeed, a Blue Tit let us get remarkably close before flying away.
As the path goes down the stone will appear large and obvious on the right, but unnervingly on the wrong side of the fence, we approached as far as the fence, Eric lay down for a while, whilst I went for a bit of a trespass on the other side of the fence.

The stone was apparently partially buried then dug up and re-erected by landowners at Burnt house farm. In shape it reminds me of Gardoms edge standing stone. The stone is on a gentle slope coming up from the river and has a different aspect as you walk round the stone, it’s best side is seen whilst looking past it up to Shutlingsloe hill, the stone has a dimple with creases leading into it. It’s a very nice looking stone.

Coming from Congleton to Buxton on the A54, turn left after Cluloe cross, well worth a visit in it’s own right, as it stands on a natural knoll that has often been taken as a large barrow. A small area on the right side of the lane is good for one or two cars, from the fence/gate the Bullstones can be seen.

I’m walking about a hundred yards down to the stone amid the newest born lambs I’ve yet seen, keeping my distance the lambs and ewes don’t seem to my mind my intrusion into their field.
It’s sooo good to finally be here in good weather, it’s been fog and icey fog the last two times, so the warm sun, expansive views and glut of ancient sites seen today have satiated my need to “get out”, didnt much care for the cold wind though.

The profile of the central stone is almost exactly the same as that great big hill Shutlingsloe, not the highest point in Cheshire but certainly the most recognisable and with the most “I want to climb that” . Even though it is the most prominent landmark on all the horizon, we mustn’t forget all the other sites seen from here, Luds church, The Bawd stone over by the Roaches and Hen cloud, The Allgreave stone and the Bosley Minn stones to name but a few.

When you do come to see the Bullstones please don’t think they are all that’s here, if you are able and willing, climb over the fence and have a look at the possible outlier then a bit further on there is the weird Longgutter circle and the strange semi circle of stones, I once thought the Bullstones was a lonely monument far from anything else but now it’s getting possitively crowded up there.

It’s been eleven months since our last visit, and seeing as we were unwilling to return home just yet, we nipped into Congleton for Tea and came up here for the sunset, damn good idea it was too.

Once again we had the place to ourselves for nearly two hours, even on a beautiful day like today, no dogs barking either.
In the field next door are two or three time team type trenches, I don’t know if they’re archaeological in nature or weather the farmer dude is going about his farming duties, which this day include perfectly square tidy trenches. Either way half the trench includes what looks like a low rubble wall running north/south, I wish i’d taken a photo now but was remiss at the time.

We sent monkey boys up a conifer in the stones compound to try and look down on the stones, not in a dismissive way you understand but just trying to see something new in a place that we’ve seen a dozen times. In the end something new did occur to me, but it wasn’t found up a tree you wont be surprised to find. Nearly thirty miles away on the Cheshire plain is the Mid Cheshire ridge, part of this sandstone play ground contains Beeston Crag with it’s famous castle, but less known is the neolithic enclosure, Bronze age settlement and Iron age hill fort. Well, the Bridestones chamber seems to be directly aligned on the distant crag. Trees and Rhododendrons are blocking any definitive proof but both are neolithic in date, both inter visible and (not related) I live between the two, for the first time ever Crewe isn’t such a bad place to live after all.

On another tack the rhododendrons are too close to the chamber, we used to be able to walk right round the chamber but are now confined to the southern side, it’s not on, this place is too cool to be swamped in vegatation.

A strange turn of events led us back to the “Slippery hill of the witch” on a Sunday with time and a few sponds, it was Erics idea he practically begged me to come back, I was going to go to the Near Peak district, but he was adamant, he wanted to have another crack at that mountain that defeated him last time, and he wanted to bring his mate, whom for reasons that will become apparent will remain nameless.

We parked in the Ogwen valley by the entrance to a farm that is on the way to the cairn topped mountain. As the walk started we first had to cross over a cattle grid, Eric’s mate looked at it strangely and said “what’s that?” he wasn’t kidding either it was the first time he’d seen one, he crossed it gingerly in his wellies, and me and Eric exchanged glances.
After the farm had been passed we made it up to the nice to walk beside weir/canal, Eric changed out of trousers and into shorts, it was that warm, i’ve never seen anyone climb a mountain in shorts and T shirt before, strange days indeed.

When the weir reaches the small valley between Pen yr Helgi Du and Pen Llithrig y Wrach we head up to the saddle between the two (Bwlch y Tri Marchog) following the stream uphill. On the way we saw two small brown smooth lizards and some mountain ponies.
At the top of the Bwlch y Tri Marchog we could look down into Cwm Eigiau, the perfect glacier made valley, and up to Carnedd llewelyn with the narrow ridge linking it to the lower but no less lovely Pen yr helgi du. It was a heavenly place to sit and consume some butties, and catch our breath, two mountains a week is perhaps close to my limit.

Then it’s up to the summit, through a rocky path that is well worn and has the best view of The Carneddau that there is to my knowledge. Whilst photographing this Snowdonian spectacle eric stayed with me as a loving son is wont to do, but his mate carried on up on his own, he left the only two people who could help if nessasary, I was a tadd annoyed but tried not to show it.
Finally we caught up to the loner at the top, it was very gratifying to finally get to the top, the list got shorter for a change.
The cairn is I think if anything getting smaller, I can only hope that the bump the small pile of stones is on is the main part of the cairn. We all take up residence at the cairn even going so far as to take our shoes off, really making ourselves at home. I lied down propped up on shoulders surveying the haze that can’t hide the better half of the national park. Behind me coming back to the fore is what the kids are doing behind me, to my absolute horror Eric’s mate was seeing how far he could throw stones over the edge, I sternly reminded him there was a footpath down there, with people walking on it, and those stones are from someones grave that has been there for 4000 years and your just chucking it over the edge to show how cool you are. I was not impressed, I made them go away from the cairn and collect some more stones and replace them on the cairn, Eric wasn’t impressed with him either, and Eric’s mate wasn’t impressed, with me. Really, even though educated into what’s what some people don’t care, last time he comes out with me I can tell you.

That said not even a naughty mouthy kid can spoil my enjoyment of this place, the weather is amazing so warm and dry and those views are to die for, the eye is forever torn up to the Carneddau, especially llewelyn and the narrow ridge down to Pen yr Helgi Du, Ive never seen the mountains look so enticing, one day me and Alken will walk it, and properly enjoy the wonderful beauty of this place.
On the way down I try to find Bwlch Cowlyd but I cant even remember what it is i’m looking for, oh well someone will find it one day i’m sure.

After a frankly brilliant early morning visit to the Llyn Brenig monuments, how would one top that on a hazy but sunny equinox morning, answer, climb a mountain, sans step ladders of course.
Taking my que from Gladman as ever in Snowdonia, I started my climb from Rhyd Ddu, where there is parking for half a dozen cars on the road side.
The footpath is clear and well trodden, the route visible right up to the top, though Gladders had mentioned twice how steep it is, I was still taken aback by how steep it is. The often rediculous path is sometimes barely two feet from the edge of a near vertical drop, twice vertigo got a grip of me and at the soonest opportunity I had to drop to the floor planting myself on the ground , then take lots of pictures to take my mind off just how scared of heights I can get, why oh why would someone who is afraid of heights climb a mountain, same answer as ever because it’s there. But that’s a daft answer, mostly iv’e come to see the cairns, and those views, those spine tingling jaw dropping goose bumping views that make you want to stay forever.

Eventually the eastern cairn comes into view and a deep sigh of relief escapes me, I walk round the edge of the summit never daring to get too close to the edge. From up here it seems the whole national park is on offer, so many cairn topped mountains, Moel Hebog is south, Mynnydd Mawr is north, east is Yr Wyddfa and behind it Carnedd llewelyn, north east is Moel Eilio and west is Craig Cwm Silyn and the impossibly pretty Nantlle ridge, begging me to have a go even goading me in to having a little climb just try me out I don’t bite....much.
The cairns, oh yes the cairns, I knew there was something up here besides terrible beauty. They are both big and impressive, with all the scree around it would be a crime to have little barely there cairns. They are too far apart, i’d like to see them a bit closer together, perhaps they had their reasons, now unfathomable to us.
They are both hollowed out to accept a couple of weary walkers, and you would be weary, and it’s just such a damn good place to sit for a while, communing with the ancestors and for a short while becoming a part of something bigger than our lives back home.

I leave the cairns behind and walk off in a daze almost towards the Nantlle ridge, I don’t intend to get to the top, that day will have to wait till Iv’e a walking buddy to hold my hand and reassure me that it’s okay. Every time I get a glimpse over the edge a dizzy nervous wonderment comes over me and I stare steadfastly at the ground beneath my feet and the way ahead. I make my way as far as I dare and take a pugh. An older gentleman is coming down, he must be twenty years older than me and sporting walking sticks, he asks me if i’m going all the way, I giggle idiotically and say “not today”.
As he goes on his way towards the cairns I keep looking up and asking myself how hard can it be?
Harder than it seems or not i’m saving it for another day, maybe starting from the other side.
But now it’s back to the cairns, I could walk around all day here, but time has caught me up and it’s time to bid a sad farewell.....for now.

It’s no more than two hundred yards, a five minute walk from No51 to No8, I spied a farmer seeing to his flock so I went down hill a little to put some earth between us, and I got to No8, the stone circle, without any strange looks, which can arise when carrying step ladders across Welsh hills.
I proceeded to photograph the stones from aloft, which is the best way to appreciate these stones as they are on a knoll and at ground level only one side of the circle can be seen at once.

Ladders to one side I circled the circle, leaving the interior untill i’d got everything from the exterior that I could, then the dreaded farmer came over. To begin with I thought he was talking Welsh to me, but it turns out he was talking English, just incomprehensible, I only got part of what he said, nice day and ancient cemetry was all I got, oh and he asked if the ladders were mine, with a daft smile on his face, apparently you don’t see that very often.

After he left I retook to inspecting the stones a bit closer, The biggest stones in the circle and they really are quite large are on the west side, those at the east are much smaller and trying to burrow under the grass. Inside the circle are a number of other earthfast stones suggesting a cist maybe or something else. The equinox sunrise would have appeared from the same notch in the hills, but was it for this ring cairn or the bigger one up hill, does that even make sense?
Enough, iv’e got to get to that last cairn I’ve only just learned of, time is still on my side and one word keeps me moving, Mountains, i’m off to Snowdonia in a bit.

After much oohing and aahing and lots of will I won’t I, it all fell together perfectly, like one of Hannibal’s plans. The weather, the time, the funds, all coming together at one point in time, granted the actual equinox was two days ago, but my day off is today, Thursday, and that will have to do.

I ignore the car park by the big ring cairn and carry on down the track with the Llyn to my right and hills to my left. As the lane bends round to the right I parked by the building, not very discriptive is it but I wasn’t paying much attention as I passed, I was hurrying up, getting the ladders balanced just right on my shoulder, checking out the sky and so on.
The footpath is well used, by foot, by 4x4 and by tractor and almost unswervingly takes us to Brenig 8, but I want Brenig 51 so a quick detour up hill, a wooden post marks it’s spot and there it is, possibly the most interesting, mesmerising and captivating chamberless cairn there is.
The cairn originally had an open center like the other ring cairn, in the very center was a large wooden post, but it didn’t last long as the cairns middle was filled in, finally a semicircular cairn covering a charcoal filled pit was added to the northern arc.

The first thing I noted was where the equinox sun would be rising from, two low hills cross the horizon forming a shallow V from which the sun bursts forth, shining brightly and warmly all across North Wales, I wasn’t expecting that, the suns non coincidental rise from a place of note, or the sunny day.
The second thing I noted was just how brilliant this cairn is, this is my third visit and it’s only just sinking in how much of a singular spectacle it is. The stones of the platform seem to fit together so well the architect must have sat for years determined to get them all to fit in perfectly together, like some huge prehistoric mosaic.

Then there’s that semicircular cairn, who ever heard of such a thing, stuck into the platforms northern arc, and covering a charcoal filled pit, prehistory never seemed so full of mystery as it does right now. Lets not forget the stone circle at the platforms center as well, just that ring of stones on it’s own would have been enough to get me here, maybe not this early in the morning but I still would have come, oh and three small quartz boulders are in the center also but they are more than likely recent additions, they’ve been there more than a decade at least.

Then the sun starts to rise, I turn to the thronging possy of sun worshippers at my side to gauge their reaction, only to find that i’m well and truly alone on this hill side, no one else but me to watch over the celestial magic, I wonder whether anyone else has seen this, since, you know... back then, surely not.
But times getting the better of me as it always does at these places, it’s time to go and see Number8, and if time stays on my side, there’s that special guest star later on.

This small restored kerb cairn can be visited at the same time as the platform cairn and the stone circle cairn, but it’s the evil twin in a cupboard compared to the other two.
It just tries to be too perfect, the kerb stones are nice and all, but there’s not enough cairn material to go round the cairn. I’m not at all sure if it’s still in it’s original position or not, but it sits quite well in the old field boundaries and it is in a good place to look down on the Llyn. Tractors race around the field it seems looking at the tracks around the cairn.

This is the one that everyone sees, it’s closest to the car park, and closest to the road round the Llyn, and it’’s sufficiently interesting to engage even the most casual of visitors.
A perfect ring of well fitting fist sized boulders maybe two feet tall, and about a dozen four foot tall wooden posts surrounding it, Clava like.
I don’t know if it’s perfect form is due to it being restored or moved and restored when they flooded the valley, but either way you’ll not see many like this in one country.
Greylag and Canada geese patrol the shores and nearby fields, always good to get a bird or two in the picture.
From 44 it isn’t far to Boncyn Arian, the blue eyed boy of the Llyn, and its not far to 41 aswell but that one is off the table unless your an avid wild swimmer. Like Carl says it is a peaceful place, hours well spent watching the world turning if you ask me.

With all the big complex cairns around it is easy to overlook this shapely barrow, but it is easily the most accessible and tallest of the llyns barrows, some are hidden in the forest, some are on the far shore and one even in the lake on an island, but this one is just a few yards from the big ring cairn with wooden posts in it and from the road.

It only just survived as well, when they flooded the valley to make the reservoir, Boncyn Arian was right at the edge of the water, if the wave action continues to wear away at the shore, further undercutting the banks it is only a matter of time before it will need some rescue, it’s safe for now though.
Situated at the head of the Llyn, it seems to command the whole area, most of the sites here are on the hills surrounding the water, except this barrow and the island barrow and a couple on the far shore.

From the car park cross over the stile by the gate and information board, and head up the hill bearing left, the cairn is on a knoll at the end of a prominence below the slightly higher hills, in all maybe ten minutes from the car park.
Once more were ladders slung comfortably over the shoulder and in the warm spring sunshine this would be the last of the Brenigs seen this morning.
I’d saved the best till last, but best in the sense that I haven’t seen this one before, three others seen earlier this equinox morning are more interesting, but Iv’e been here three times before and never knew it was here, it’s not marked on the map, the only one who knew of it was Victor, our old chased away freind Whatisthat, nice one Vic.

I reached the becairned hilltop rather more puffed out than I’d like, three hours of lugging step ladders round will do that to you I guess. The sheep in this field unlike their scardy friends
from earlier all crowded round me and the cairn, one in particular seemed very interested in my doings. The cairn doesn’t have the too perfect look of the other restored cairns down the road, stones poke out of it’s circumference at odd and painful angles. Grass covers the inner cairn leaving the outer kerbs to suggest maybe a ring cairn, it isn’t it’s a round cairn, a round cairn with a superb view. One of the odd jaunty angled stones has a smooth scoop in it’s top, a more comfy stone can’t be found, those with ample rears may fit better than my bony behind.
On my leaving the cairn the sheep followed me,
but not far, they were just interested in me and the cairn not just me.

There was just enough room to pull over at the side of the road, walk back down the road to the gate enter the field and walk over to the cairns.
Only one is immediately obvious, but when you know which one your at you know where the other one is, if that makes sense.
The western one is the better of the two, a big round cairn with just loads of cairn material being taken for nearby walls, shocking isn’t it.
The eastern cairn was no smaller than it’s neighbours, but much more has been taken from it, on it’s eastern edge it neatly and seemlessly merges with the ground, only at its northern edge is there even a curving bank of stones.
I had wanted to get over to Cerrig y Cledd for the last site of the day, but we inevitably tarry too long at places, and consequently the plan is open to changes, these cairns were that change, and a welcome one too, after all the top sites of the day, and in the last golden light of a weather changeable day, it was better than most things.

We parked in the big free car park, walked a little down the road to take in the view across the lake to the mini mountain from a tumble of boulders, amongst them was a simple memorial to a dad, to a 54 year old man who loved this view, and who can blame him, I love it too, but it was all a bit more poignant as thesweetcheat was next to me and we were both born in the same month as our fallen comrade, it would be a few minutes before our immediate reality took back hold of me.

Though this big sharp rock looks intimidating to climb from the car park it is less so on the way up, no scrambling, no slipping, hands were deeply in pockets, except when holding camera to eye.
All the way up to the top there was no sign of fortifications, it is only the very top that has anything that one can pinpoint as being fortish. The high summit is a narrow plateau punctuated by rock outcropping, the highest of which is like a throne looking out to all points but most definately regarding the mountain most highly. Heading east off the high flat ground we are funneled through a narrow area between two rocky walls, through here I imagined a throng of iron age people, thronging in places and talking excitedly, only for a second or two then we were onto another long wide top shelf and in front of us was definate iron age fortifications. Two wide and high spread of stones blocked off egress along the mountain ridge, funneling people through the narrow entrance in the middle. We didn’t expect this, and it made me at least childishly excited, just like finding kerb stones on a cairn earlier on, it’s silly the things that can excite me.

Through the entrance and along the ridge to it’s eastern summits we were able to look back at the fort on its mountain top, through the entrance, to the narrow corridor through walls of rock and up to the throne stones outcrop, whilst also taking in the view of high moutains and down to the sea, I turn around and there is a rainbow only half is lit the invisble half sinks silently into Llyn Pen Moelyn. This is too much, it doesnt get much better than this. We blaze our own trail down, straight to another cairn on the map, but its gorse covered, less than a meter high and only sparse cairn material can be detected. we leave it and head back to the car whilst looking right for hut circles but the map is quite unclear about their exact whereabouts and we pass them by unnoticed, Back down at road side my camera battery goes, phew that was lucky.

I didn’t see this cairn on my first visit, but as it’s part of the collective round these parts we put that right.
As the name suggests it’s southwest of the main group, across the hard going sea of grass that reminds one of Rohan from the lord of the rings.
We came at it from the hill fort of Craig y Castell to the south, even from above it was still hard for me to spot it, but more obvious at ground level.
It is not a stoney spread like the other two, but a grassed over cairn of a good size, with the odd bit of cairn material poking through. Cader idris itself is not visible from it but the cairns of Tyrrau Mawr are and down the valley to Pared y Cefn Hir.

We parked in the Cader Idris pay and display, two quid for four hours, reasonable.
From the car park head north west up the track, the hill fort occupies the hill right in front of you. Keep going till you reach a farm with a public right of way through it, the farmer can’t say a word, but his dogs will have plenty to say, like woof, bark and many growls with longing looks at the ankles and the irrisistable urge to herd us all over their faces. We stood our ground, spoke with a commanding voice and made it through unmolested.

Once past the farm you’ll have to detour off the path and head east straight up the hill, i’m not sure if we were trespassing or not but a couple of fences had to be stepped over. Then we’re at the foot of the fort, all around the northern part are what look like collapsed walls, tumbled down from on top or not we can’t tell, alas we’d forgotten to bring a professional so our amateurish musings will have to suffice. Scrambling through the rubble/scree we approach the highest part of the fort and set our faces to stunned, my but that is a great view.
The fort sits aloft on its giant outcrop, with stunning vistas to the peak of Cader Idris, to the mini mountains of Pared y Cefn Hir, and down towards Barmouth and the sea.

The tumbled wall stretches from west through south to east, the northern aspect is taken care of by a sheer breakneck drop. At the south east is what looks like the entrance with the walls unfortunately falling into the entrance.
This isn’t the best hill fort in North Wales, but it is probably in the best location in North Wales. And for some reason I like a fort with stone walls instead of just banks and ditches, stones being preferable to earth, strange but true.
We take in the fort from a distance from multiple angles and decide we are done here and move on to “The cairns on a woodland saddle”, I like it.

Even though I’d spotted this circle from above on google earth and knew where more or less it was, the fog was so thick I didn’t hold out much hope for locating it, it is only a slight feature in the landscape.
Eric was by now a tad browned off about being cold and wet and elected to stay in the car, as the road is next to the field I would be searching in and with in shouting distance, I felt this would be okay for ten minutes. As I looked round through the field starting a systematic field walk I saw a fence to my left and would have felt remiss if I didn’t have a quick look over it, luckily on the other side I could see the Bullstones that singular site that luck saw fit to have in Cheshire. I jumped over and had a quick shufty round, it was even foggier than the last time I came here. Back over the fence and south a bit brought me to a big shapely stone “pitched on end” as it were, on another website it’s known as the Bullstones outlier.
Fifty yards further southish is a semi circle of small boulders, it looks for all the world like half a stone circle, the stones forming what would be the east-north-west arc of a circle, other stones lie off the circumference but only by a few feet.
Then fifty yards up the hill west, and there is the reason I came here the enigmatic circular feature that could be another stone circle or maybe a barrow of some sort or as maybe more likely a hut circle, as soon as I found it Eric began to remind me my ten minutes were up five minutes ago, in that way that ten year old boys do, in full voice.
The ten meter wide circle is nicely round with an entrance facing south south west, at it’s south end some bigger stones are showing through the turf.
Eric is fair shouting by now, so I walk blindly through the fog towards the yelling child, backing slowly away from the circular feature, clicking the camera and vowing to be back this way as soon as the skies clear.

I parked North east of the barrow by a church in the tiny hamlet of Macclesfield forest, which is just west of another hamlet called Bottom-of-the-oven, it doesn’t matter where on this island you go in remoter parts there’s always some interestingly named places.
As we walked south west down the road into the forest, I spotted a three foot high or so standing stone in the trees about twenty yards from the road, behind it was a rather barrowy type bump, completely covered by a fallen tree, Apparently I am an amateur and as such “I know naathing”, only that it’s there, and now you can see it too.
Then it’s over the fence i’m afraid and up the steep hill, but only for three minutes at the most. The barrow was small, but kinda cute, (stuggles to keep it clean)........ like......... a nice small barrow.
It was impossible to get a view of the area, Shutlingsloe, Cheshires most recognisable mountain, (which is something for a county renowned for it’s plains) should have been high on the southern horizon but the fog was thick and resolute, there would be no views today, but it never hampered the search for the barrow. The little cutie has a small standing stone sticking up out of its center like a.... (Struggles)...... small thin but wide stone. The ground to the north west falls rapidly down into the forest, which judging from lots of stumps and Stubobs picture has been cut back somewhat.
The barrow seems to sit on a wide slight ridge rising to the northeast, blimy I wish I could see further than fifty yards.

Travelling north on the B5470 from Macclesfield to Whaley Bridge, turn left to Pott Shrigley, easily spotted from the roadside, just before left turn onto farmland.
There was a herd of cows in the field or as they are collectively called “The Bovinator”, they seemed to pay me no heed so I deftly vaulted the fence and moving slowly,edged towards the barrow.
Camera at the ready and muscles tensed for a hasty retreat I got closer and closer, soon I was a top the barrow and the cows simply watched, unphased by my intrusion.
Nothing could be made out through the fog, only me the barrow some trees and the bovinator inhabited this tiny universe, but I knew that on a clear day Reed hill would be visible with it’s large bronze age barrow, and another to the east on the first hill the eye encounters.
The barrow, though obviously spread and much lower than it should be, is quite large, at least a meter high and very obvious in it’s landscape, it shows no sign of tampering, no excavation scars no scooping out of the interior, and definitely no wind brakes.
A good barrow, I will have to come back to see the views and take a walk up Sponds hill for an overview of the whole place, and find that barrow to the east, oh and the murder stone.

Just west of Kettleshulme on the B5470 turn north onto a small lane, this takes us along the eastern flank of Reed hill, there is a parking place for one at the side of the road. After jumping the fence go up the hill, just keep going up, the barrow is at the top.

Blast this eternal fog, one of Cheshire’s few hilltop cairns and it’s a good one but the view is non existent. Lost to the blank greyness of a Sunday afternoon, it was the same last week, and wasn’t much better the week before, I’m beginning to think it’s not Wales or even the hills, it’s just me.

The barrow on Reed hill was dug into in 1911 by people whom I hesitate to name, (you don’t know who’s going to read this) and a number of features were found including two cists and a curious drain like feature for a fuller read try the Portal megalithic.co.uk/article.php?sid=5576
I liked this one hugely, though it’s right on the limits of being in Cheshire it could have been on any Welsh hill far far from home. The cairn material is visible on top and some broken bits of sink have worked their way into it.
Eric made a snowman,
Coming back in the spring for better views.

Southeast of Macclesfield is a small village called Langley, head east through the village until you get to a pub called the Leathers Smithy, opposite the Ridgegate reservoir, turn left immediately after the pub and continue up hill until you get to a small 3 space carpark. Now back track down the lane and the stone is in the field to your right..

The stone is about four and a half foot tall, not tall, but a pretty standard height in Cheshire. It is seemingly unworked in any way, there are no holes for gates and such.
The stone is about a mile south south east of Toothills barrow and stands on the edge of a small ridge and seems to ring true to me, in placing at least.
Due to thick cold fog the views were unseen today but on a clearer day would be “quite good”.

Just south of Macclesfield, near the outskirt village of Sutton lane Ends is this cairn, you’ll probably need a map to find it, even though it’s visible from the road, and on Google street view.
I parked on the side of the icey road and set off across the field, for the first time today I was’nt trespassing but following a designated public path. Blyeck, but that didn’t last long as I was forced into the field next door to get to the cairn.
This is one big cairn, I would have been here ages ago had I known of it, not having enough money to get to Wales has it’s advantages.
Around 1877 it was dug into, a trench twelve feet long, six feet wide and eight feet deep revealing nothing but boulders, some split by fire.
Again it was mutilated in the name of science by James Forde-Johnston of Manchester University in 1962 finding no primary burial but several secondary cremations.
The big black water trough on top is quite unnecessary, and an awful blot on what is a mighty work of old, Sutton Hall farm....Ggggrrrrrrrr.
As I approached the cairn the sheep legged it, all except one, Tripod was his name (mine) and he guarded the cairn well, but then even he yielded to me. Then as I got closer and the cairns size became apparent it looked like it could be big enough to have a chamber in it somewhere, but alas it is not so. The snow and the fog makes it look cold but i’m all togged up and impervious to such things, in time the fog lifts slightly enough to see the outline of hills, outliers of the Peak.

This ones dedicated to TheSweetcheat and his Dad and all our Dads without whom we just wouldn’t exist.

Parking can be tricky, there is no good place, I parked on the first corner to the south of the barrows on the A34 next to a pond.
A five minute walk up the road brings us to the woods in which is the first of today’s sites. A weakness in the hedge was exploited to good effect and I was in the woods, not knowing exactly where the barrows was, only that it was quite big, I simply headed up the slight hill to its highest point thinking that is where it would be. Twas.
It is a big one too, bigger than I thought Cheshire had, shows what I know, and it shows you there’s still plenty to see, even in your own back yard, though my back yard is fifty miles across and today it was foggy and snowy but not too cold.
It was a strange one to photograph, from the south it’s just another hilltop and there’s a lot of dead wood about, especially on the northern side of the barrow, and all the trees about it either get in the way or make an avenue leading straight to it, there is a big mature tree growing right out of it’s center. Iv’e driven past it a few times but never spotted it from the road, Iv’e only seen its northern nieghbour.

Back on to the A34 and two hundred yards up the road and I can see the pedestal topped barrow dimly through the thick helpful fog.
It was helpful because these barrows are on extremely private property, Capesthorne park, in thick fog no-one can see you sneak (sorry Aliens is on).
So a quick jump over a gate and a straight to it walk of five minutes is all this trespass takes. The barrow is more plowed out than it’s neighbour but is still quite prominent. The two barrows would have been inter visible if not for the trees and a house and the pea soup. The pedestal on top seems to serve no purpose other than to direct the eye across the perfect lawn, past the groups of four trees to the bump, to the barrow that is now only a lawn feature.
I will have to come back in the spring to get another look, especially to the wooded one.

Down the road southwest one mile from Henbury destroyed stone circle, turn right in lower Paxhill, after a few hundred yards look right over hedge and there it is.
I parked inconsiderately next to a seldom used field gate, crossed the road and jumped another gate, this, as I was about to see is not common land or even farmland, but is part of the sprawling over manicured feng shuied garden belonging to Henbury hall. Pretty it is too with the big hall looking on impressively.
The Bowl barrow, for it is of this variety, is cordoned off by a rickety fence that nearly fell down as I  climbed over. Inside the fence the barrow is covered by rough untouched grasses, fallen branches, three trees and a sapling, standing in stark contrast to the neatly coifed lawn.
Finds include a collared urn with a lid made from a
round based vessel containing an 18yr old male, over 100 flint flakes scattered across the surface of the barrow, and a crude leaf shaped arrow head. The urns are now in Grosvenor Museum in Chester.

Like Gawsworth henge a couple of miles southeast, this stone circle is now utterly destroyed. I’d heard that maybe one stone survived, and was hiding out in the local hedges, near where he once dwelled with others in circular fashion.
Despite it’s good hiding place I still found it, quite easily about thirty feet from a metal stile in the hedge. It doesn’t look dumped, it is earth fast with no wobble, light grey in colour, perhaps limestone? it certainly looked the part anyway.
But there is a big open field, so the circle could be shifted about for a hundred yards in any direction.
I shall return at a later date for more rummaging in the hedgerows.
Until then, any more information anyone.

I parked near the junction of the A523 and the Oakgrove Fools nook crossing, just by the canal, the barrow is up the lane one hundred yards and in a field to our right.
I crossed into the field by a yellow road side grit box, though this is trespassing, but as it’s Cheshire’s only beaker barrow a quick cloaked survey was well on the cards.
It was crowded with sheep as I approached but these soon scattered into the next field, leaving us alone. About one meter high and about fifteen across it is not a mighty work of old but it is in a good position, Gawsworth henge and Broad Oak barrow are almost visible and from on the barrow (sorry) I can see the snow in the Peak district not far away. Oh for a few dollars more.

Just a couple of hundred yards down the road from the destroyed henge, is this apparently well preserved round barrow, with what we may take as a mature Broad Oak tree growing out of it.
With the big posh farm and the whir of a quad bike nearby I settled for a gander from the road. it didn’t half behoove me but settle I did.

Off the A523 at Oakgrove, the henge was in a field behind the Fools Nook public house, I parked at the corner of the field at the junction with the old Leeke to Macc road and a small upwards pointing little lane.
The only hint of this henges existence is hearsay at best really, it was apparently finally destroyed in the 1980’s by my old buddy agriculture.
There is one picture on the megalithic portal (and some minor information) a picture of some trees, Iv’e recreated it here, but I don’t know if its a picture of the field in general or weather the trees mark the henge. There is a seat carved from a tree stump and by it there is some sandstone rubble at the foot of another tree, but niether of these miniscule scraps of information reveal the henges former where about’s, or if it was a henge at all.
To be better safe than sorry I took to wandering the field up and down looking for anything suspect, a couple of features caught my eye and iv’e supplied a picture of each, but at the end of a fruitless search we can only confirm that it is most decidedly gone.
After I’d quit the field I was having a further shufty nearby when I watched an unsuspecting fox come trundling over to within ten feet of me it saw me almost too late and yelped and careered off into another field, it fair gave me goosebumps and kind of repaid me for having no henge .

This time I parked about a hundred yards further down the road from the trig point, the shortest point between the road and the barrow, just a quick hop over a barbed wire fence and whilst Bob isn’t technically my uncle we’re certainly good friends.
In the same field as me and the long barrow were some ponies, as soon as they saw me confidently striding across the field they all came galloping over,
some getting a little too close for comfort, eight of them there were, big muscular ponies, that looked me straight in the eye, I looked back and radiated masterful intentions, then I jumped over a small stream and left them behind, they seemed unwilling to cross the very small stream but I was glad they had lost interest so quickly, move along nothing to see here.

Now, in the winter, the barrow is more visible and easier to traverse than in the summer, eighteen months ago was my first visit and i’m happy to be back so relatively quickly. The north-western end is larger than its southeastern partner, higher and wider, but I don’t know whether these things have fronts and ends, only that it points south east vaguely towards the Bride stones and the winter solstice sunrise, closer inspection may yield a more definitive picture. The long barrow also sports three sets of rabbit holes, nothing outside they’re entrances but sand, is this an indication of it’s build and make up.
I also jumped across the loach brook and scrambled up the opposite bank for a wider view of the small river valley, the long barrow really stands out, looking good even in the mid afternoon gloom of perhaps the greyest day of the year so far, weather wise.

After a fair soaking at Gwern Gof Isaf hut circle near tryfan, I was not quite reluctant to get back out of the warm car, but the idea of waiting for a dryer day had occurred to me that’s for sure. But that’s not the postal way, I opted for walking boots (that are still waterproof) instead of wellies, picked up the shears and strode of into the misty wilderness.
I parked by the cattle grid this time and followed the wall down to the river which had more water in it than the first time I came, I was almost certainly going to slip off a rock and get wet., well, wetter than normal, but I made it across, grumbling but no wetter than when I started. From the other side of the river it’s just a case of finding the big rock and the four poster is about 50yards away. River crossing aside no problem.

You may have noted that I was carrying shears with me, my first visit had been somewhat frustrated by two inappropriately placed gorse bushes, they are right on the cairn itself and half obscure two of the four stones.
The smaller of the two bushes had all but died and the entire plant was removed easily in less than half an hour. I hasten to add that absolutely no damage occurred to the structure of the cairn or to the stone. The ground isn’t too pretty where the bush was , but I’m sure that a good summer will green right over the brown patch.
It’s not like anyone but me ever goes there, If you feel like complaining feel free, (I may have a go at the other gorse bush if no-one does) but I feel the site is better off for having me as a friend, and now the only four poster in North Wales has 50 % less gorse coverage and will soon look the better for it.

I parked in the small car park near Gwern Gof Isaf campsite, it was raining, but as it wasn’t too far from the road I was unperturbed by the crappy weather. Wellied feet, waterproof trousers, and old trusty coat, just follow the rocky ridge up, how hard can it be ?
Half way to the hut circle I was in such a good mood I stopped on a prominent rock to show the world my genius at air guitar. The world didn’t seem to care too much and I didn’t blame it, i’m not very good ....musically, but ask me to find a little hut circle on a big mountain side and I can really shine at that. From the prominent rock that has to be stood upon, you have to walk through two low walls and pass a sheep shelter(?) and the hut circle will appear on your right up against a vertical sheet of rock.
First of all I paced round it giving it a wide berth, like a tiger waiting for the right moment to pounce, or a Top Gear enthusiast jealously surveying the newest Ferrari. Either way, half an hour passed before I even stood next to it let alone enter the little circle.
From most angles the hut seems to have a difficult to understand interior, the southern arc of the circle wall is wider than the rest, and inside the circle that is a little bit too square to be a real circle, is another circular setting of stones with a rectangular depression inside that. It seemed to be more cairn like at times, with the central depression being a cist rather than a hearth, but I guess they that know, know best.
The mist never really lifted much during my stay, Tryfan was half draped in misty goodness, across the valley Pen yr Helgi Du fleeted by for an instant. Today was never about getting to the top or having a great view, it’s just about being there, dry or wet, today my coat was really not cooperating in defeating the fine sideways rain, and it was wet. Back to the car, before my tolerance of cold and wet were all used up for the day.

This was to be Eric’s first real mountain climb, his slack jawed expression of disbelief when I pointed out where we were going wasn’t very encouraging.
We parked as close to the dam on Llyn Cowlyd and started the walk, we probably spent too much time at the dam, messing about as children are wont to do, but then we got going.
There is no certain path from where we started, so we were free walking a path of our own choosing, through bogs across deep icy snow drifts, it’s his first snow of the year so this was particularly fascinating. (long drawn out wistful sigh)
All the way up thus far the low clouds had veiled the summit, and Eric had his first taste of mountain walking, that is, when you crest a ridge thinking your nearly there and then thump, still loads left yet.
We got right under the summit, only a 150 vertical meters to go and Eric had his second mountain lesson, heights are scary.
So scary in fact that he didn’t want to go right up to the top, I tried some gentle persuasion, some bribery, then some reverse psychology, but he had become firm, Pen Llithrig Y Wrach summit would have to wait for another day.
He said at the bottom, back at the car, that he regretted not going all the way to the top, Daft head Bear Grylls was on the radio after and he convinced Eric to trust his Dad and give it another go, so the first Sunday with money and good weather, we’ll give it another go, only without the two mile stone hunting walk beforehand.

With Eric in tow we arrived suited and booted and on time for the winter solstice sunrise, I know it’s tomorrow but i’m off work today so it will have to do.
Unfortunately the weather doesn’t give a damn what I want and the sunrise remained stubbornly veiled behind cloud. I bet the sun shone at Stonehenge.
Unable to prove or disprove any solar alignments, which are most likely to be casual and arguable rather than obvious and easily proved.
Oh well winter comes round every year, but I don’t.