Paviland Cave (Cave / Rock Shelter)

Visited 26 April 2013 Back in the autumn last year, as we made our snail-like way around the Glamorgan coastline on the newly opened Wales Coast Path, we promised ourselves a Gower weekend in the Spring. This gave us something to aim for, an elusive Shangri-la to spur our efforts onward, possibly more in hope that expectation. So I'm mightily excited that we've reached the Gower on time and the long-awaited trip has even tied in with some promising weather. We're staying in Scurlage, but come down the day before our first walk. I've managed to remember to bring the tide times with me, ostensibly on the off-chance of a visit to Worm's Head tomorrow, but I've realised that the tide will be at its lowest point about an hour after we arrive at our accommodation, itself less than an hour's walk from the coast path and the wonders of Paviland. From Pilton Green, a footpath sign points to "Foxhole Slade". We scurry and hurry along the path that runs smooth and easy alongside hedges for about a mile, conscious of the limited, precious minutes ticking away. We meet the Coast Path, to the left heading to Longhole Cave and then Port Eynon (3.5 miles), to the right climbing up to the cliff forts on the headland above and onward to Rhossili (4 miles), but our route carries straight on down towards the azure sea, glimpsed tantalisingly between the V of steep cliffs. There is no footpath, just a sheep track heading down over initially grassy then increasingly rocky slopes, alongside an old drystone wall. The cliff on our right looms intimidatingly steep, a sheer tower of rock, and I start to wonder how accessible the cave is actually going to be. The path peters out and we find ourselves scrambling over sharply sculpted rock, millennia of wind and water have carved this foreshore into a serious obstacle. Progress is slow but the tide is at least out (thank you, tide timetable). I've read that you have to get down to "beach" level before climbing back up to the cave, so that's what we do. The foreshore is rock, slick and jagged, but not impossible to negotiate. Once down on the relative flat, we turn round and scan the cliff face above. From here, the entrance to the cave faces us rather obliquely, but that's definitely it! The pear-shaped opening of Goat's Hole is recognisable from photos I've seen, with a smaller cave entrance visible to the left. G/F hadn't decided until now whether to stay on the shore and wait for me, or to come up to the cave. Once down, the scramble doesn't look too difficult, the rocks rise from the shore at a fairly gentle angle until the cave itself, where the cliff then shoots up vertically. She decides to come with me, good choice. I will say that although the scramble isn't all that difficult, it isn't all that easy either, the rocks are very pointy! Wear appropriate footwear and don't try this if the tide is on its way in, that's my advice. Luckily we have no such worries, at least an hour or more before we would really have to start hurrying. Scramble over, we reach the cliff face and the opening. It's apparent that this is actually a very big, open cave - no ducking and squeezing here. The thrill of stepping over the threshold is almost too much. It's just a cave, no piles of jewels, no genied lamp, but it's soooo exciting coming here. If you have even a passing interest in the past of these islands, this has to be one of the most overwhelming places you can come. I'm almost beside myself. The cave floor has been dug out, so there is a bit of a pit on the left hand side, which I think must be where the Red "Lady" was laid to rest. The cave goes back somewhat further, a spacious place and certainly one that you could imagine being holed up in, as it were, for a while. There does not appear to be any entrance to goblin town from the back of the cave. There is however another "chamber", high above the main area. It looks possible to access, but I wouldn't even attempt it without rope and safety equipment (helicopter on standby, for example). G/F is strangely keen to have a go, despite her previously stated absolute aversion to potholing and confined spaces, but I dissuade her from making the attempt. There's more than enough excitement in the main area. We stay for an hour or so, sitting and gazing out of the cave mouth across the Bristol Channel. The lapping of the waves, the sun playing on the water, creates such a feeling of calm, I could stay for days. One of the many joys of a visit here is to picture the sea replaced by a plain, stretching away for miles and miles, roamed by antelope and mammoth. Wow. Eventually we reluctantly decide that tide will wait for no man or woman and we must start our return. Before departing, we scramble some way up the ridge at the side of the cave, just to enjoy the vantage point. We also visit the smaller cave to the west, which is rather less interesting and doesn't go far back at all. The return to the shore seems easier than the scramble up. There is also an enormous, echoing sea cave to the east of Goat's Hole Cave, worth a look as the tide is still out. From there, the waters are obviously starting to creep up the beach and we make our exit. In our excitement at climbing up to the cliff fort above, I completely forget to look out for Foxhole Slade cave, which is in the cliff here somewhere. Of all the prehistoric sites I have visited, Goat's Hole may be the most evocative, the most overpoweringly redolent of an impossibly long-vanished age, and people like us and yet not. Come if you possibly can. Truly a cave of wonders. Comments (12)  |  Add a comment  |  Permalink

Posted by thesweetcheat 8th May 2013ce

Tor Beag (Hillfort)

04/05/2013 - Lovely hillfort just off the A9, north of Avielochan. Parking is not easy here so we stopped at the Laggantygown Cemetery carpark next to Loch Vaa. A track just south of here leads back to the A9 and the start of the path to the hillfort. Quite steep sided hill with a nice wall at the entrance. Wooded now and lovely in the sunshine. Comments (0)  |  Add a comment  |  Permalink

Posted by thelonious 8th May 2013ce

Wepre Brook (Hillfort)

I dont know the right name for this fort it could as easily be Ewloe fort, but ive name it after the river that runs by and the parkland it is in. High above the Wepra brook, in deep woodland on a sandstone promontory is this little fort. It is only about 30m x 10m. There isn't much in the way of surviving defences either, just a few meters of a ditch separating the promontory to the rest of the high ground, now a golf course. But I can well imagine the place with less trees high above the place where two water courses meet, being a good place to live. Nowadays the place is Wepra park, with nicely stepped paths all the way along the brook to the much better known Ewloe castle. Today there were many people about, from picnicing families to groups of lads. Not a decent fort , but a very nice place. Ps , not really suited to boys with bikes. Comments (0)  |  Add a comment  |  Permalink

Posted by postman 7th May 2013ce

Moel y Gaer (Hillfort)

Just north east of the little village of Rhosesmor is yet another Moel y Gaer, occupying a suitable hill top 303 meters above sea level. Parking is obtained on the west side of the hill, there is room for many cars. I headed up the hill with my camera and two straining at the lead dogs, whilst Eric and his mate Luke pushed their bikes up (bikes were part of the deal).Phil elected to stay in the car with the radio. There were quite a lot of people up on the fort, some were walking the circuit of the fort like me, some were just lounging around on the reservoir, enjoying the sunshine and the views. The views are extensive, the best are west to the bigger hills and east to the Dee estuary. A reservoir on a hill top? with a big dome over it ? in a hill fort ? Absurd. This is a good hill fort, the hill is just the perfect place to keep an eye on the surroundings, two well defined banks encircle the hill. The main entrance is on the east side facing the estuary, but smaller entrances are at the north and south. Surely I must have known about this place before now, but then forgot about it, I thought I'd been to all of the good hill forts in North Wales and some crap ones, perhaps now I have. But probably not. Comments (0)  |  Add a comment  |  Permalink

Posted by postman 7th May 2013ce

Killakee (Wedge Tomb)

A quick visit to Killakee wedge tomb with my daughter and a friend. There's the usual trash about the area, a popular spot so close to Dublin. This, though ruined, is actually quite a good example of a classic wedge tomb. Double-walling is visible on both sides; much of the other structural stones are still there, though a more modern wall cuts through the front of the tomb. The presence of a massive beech tree in the south-west corner of the wedge does detract and distract. The ground to the east falls steeply away about 10 metres behind the tomb. Comments (0)  |  Add a comment  |  Permalink

Posted by ryaner 6th May 2013ce

Fenagh Beg (Portal Tomb)

My plan for the day in Fenagh had included a visit to the court tomb in the neighbouring parish of Commons, as many of the standing stones and sundry other pre-christian monuments in the vicinity, and, of course, Fenagh Beg portal tomb and its attendant passage tombs and cairn. So far I'd been put off coming here by a combination of a local lass and Ken's fieldnotes about the bull. It had lashed hail at the court tomb and I'd been attacked by hungry sheep, and the cluster of standing stones north-east of the village had proved utterly elusive. The best laid plans of mice and men… I had earlier gone up the lane above and to the east of the tomb and had spied it across what now is a lake but is a stream on the maps. The field looked empty, but the very cool response that the local had given to my enthusiastic plan to jaunt across the private land had left me doubting the wisdom of such a venture. My companion and his dog had accompanied me on the fruitless leg of the standing stone search and now we were back in the centre of the village, not 300 metres due south of the tomb. So what to do? My ventures out in the field have been drastically curtailed by the recession and the perpetual "f*** you, pay me" of my mortgage provider. So I'd killed two birds with one stone – visited my mate in Cavan town, and plotted an attack on Fenagh and its rich megalithic heritage. And here I was, on the verge of bottling the ultimate goal of my trip. Well, bollocks to that, as they say nearly everywhere. I spied a quick route over a farm gate, across an empty field where the remains of the first passage grave are – then it would be over another fence and across the field with the portal. I've done this type of manoeuver so often but never have I been cheered on by a friend and his dog. I said I'd be about 20 minutes and that I'd meet him back in the village and off I set. I headed straight for the mound with the small chamber at its top. Because of the rush I was in I didn't give this much time. The small chamber is box-like, resembling a small kist. It's about a metre square and sits oddly at the top of the mound and gradually becomes visible as you cross the field from the south. Behind the mound is a fence/hedge and this cuts across the monument. Almost immediately over this is the second passage grave, a strange rectangular structure with a couple of stones from a chamber and some kerbstones on its north side. The odd thing about this is that it's all raised about a metre above the field level, including the kerb. It was excavated in 1928 and "Cremated bone, six bone pendants, the head of a bone pin, and one quartz and two chalk balls were recovered." Again, moving fast I didn't give this much time either. And then on to the main event: the ivy is really taking over here. The capstone rests precariously on one portal (the other portal, like the capstone itself, having been broken), the backstone and the eastern sidestone. The broken piece of the roofstone is a couple of tons in itself and the complete tomb itself would have been quite a construction. What really gives this place its character though is the mad bush that has parasitically given the tomb a full head of hair. However, from what I could see on my brief visit, this is not as charming as it used to be and some of the ivy trunk/branches are really strangling the stone. As the plant increases in size and bulk I fear it's in real danger of pulling the already damaged and quite precariously balanced capstone down. All of the stone are of the same conglomerate that you find in Sligo and Leitrim and it's really rather brittle and erosion-prone. Having said all that, this is really a fantastic place. There's an air of ancientness about the place with that really rugged, damp, loaminess to the surrounds. The view immediately north to the beginnings of Lough Reane is gorgeous. The people of the vicinity are aware of what they have on their doorstep but haven't come up with a way to make the most of it yet, what with the tensions between private property and public monuments and the disgraceful lack of a public right to roam movement in Ireland. I left here way too soon and took a few shots of the very small cairn in the corner of the field. A fascinating and undervalued place that maybe I won't see again. Comments (5)  |  Add a comment  |  Permalink

Posted by ryaner 6th May 2013ce

Birdlip Camp (Hillfort)

After a rather up and down walk along the face of the escarpment, it’s something of a relief to reach the trees that mark the promontory fort, where I'm greeted by the rat-a-tat of a woodpecker looking for lunch. The Cotswold Way enters the wood at the single rampart, which is at its most impressive at this northern end. It has been damaged by quarrying; there’s a big pit across the path outside the camp. Aside from this feature, there is little visible to indicate the presence of Iron Age occupation. The interior is covered in trees, albeit a light deciduous wood that allows plenty of visibility through the site. The ground falls away very steeply on the north and south sides – my path runs to the end of the promontory and then back along the opposite side. Reaching the southern end of the rampart, there is hardly anything left of the earthwork here. It’s a pleasant spot on a sunny day, but don’t expect to be blown away by the visible remains. This post appears as part of the blog post "The Cotswold Way IV – Dowdeswell – Cooper’s Hill 20 April 2013" Comments (0)  |  Add a comment  |  Permalink

Posted by thesweetcheat 6th May 2013ce

Emma's Grove (Round Barrow(s))

Like nearby Crickley Hill, my last visit here was in a worsening snow fall. The contrast couldn’t be more extreme today, coming to the barrows in lovely spring sunshine, every footfall releasing the scent of wild garlic. The disadvantage of a spring visit, even after such a late winter, is that the barrows are quite overgrown and much of the vegetation is of the brambly kind, trying to trip me up and making even a walk around the two barrows quite a challenge. Don’t bother coming in high summer! Actually the barrows repay the effort, the larger of the two is as fine an example of a sizeable Bronze Age burial mound as you will find in these parts. This post appears as part of the blog post "The Cotswold Way IV – Dowdeswell – Cooper’s Hill 20 April 2013" Comments (0)  |  Add a comment  |  Permalink

Posted by thesweetcheat 6th May 2013ce

Cold Slad On Crickley Hill (Causewayed Enclosure)

My last visit to this fine site was in falling snow and a black and white world. Not so today. The walk through the woods of Crickley Hill Country Park to the northeast is lovely, sun streaming down. I stop at the Visitor Centre briefly, it’s usually been closed when I’ve been here before and it’s worth a look to see the information boards, together with some prehistoric finds and a model reconstruction of the site. The site itself is quite magnificent, probably the best hillfort encountered so far along the Cotswold Way as, unlike Cleeve Cloud and Leckhampton Hill, it hasn’t been so badly damaged by quarrying (although it hasn’t entirely escaped). The Way passes through the impressive Iron Age ramparts that cut off a large wedge-shaped promontory. Inside this, various hut circles are marked out by concrete posts, although there’s nothing else remaining of them. The main features of the view today are Robinswood Hill and Churchdown Hill, two conical outlier of the Cotswold escarpment. The Malverns are but dimly seen through a haze more reminiscent of summer. The most enigmatic part of the site is the circular feature at the northern end of the Neolithic earthwork, although little remains of it now. The circle, 8 metres across, was enclosed by stones and had a central hearth. “Ritual” purposes abounded, no doubt. From the western tip of the promontory, my route ahead comes into view for the first time, Barrow Wake across the steep-sided valley that now houses the A417, with Birdlip Camp, Witcombe Wood and Cooper’s Hill beyond. The Mother River, the Severn/Hafren, lies broad and glinting to the southwest. It’s busy here today, as you’d expect on such a lovely day, and before long the impulse that pushes me onwards, away from the crowds, comes back. The Cotswold Way turns back along the southern edge of the promontory, where the ground falls away most steeply, before leaving the fort into yet another delightful beech wood. This post appears as part of the blog post "The Cotswold Way IV – Dowdeswell – Cooper’s Hill 20 April 2013" Comments (0)  |  Add a comment  |  Permalink

Posted by thesweetcheat 6th May 2013ce

Leckhampton Hill (Hillfort)

Coming from the east (unusually for me), old quarrying scars blight the first approaches to Leckhampton Hill, but the views over the escarpment are particularly fine, despite the haze today. After a couple of bridle gates, the path eventually comes to some rather enigmatic earthworks stretching away from the fort, their overall layout and purpose not really clear. Following the path onwards, it soon reaches the northern section of the ramparts proper. This is the best-preserved part of the defences, and a walk to the northern tip offers a terrific aerial viewpoint off the near-vertical quarried cliffs and across Cheltenham. I can indeed see my house from here (well, my street anyway). Although I’ve been up here many times now, there is always something new to see. In this case, it’s the northern rampart, below the lip of the escarpment, much more clear of vegetation than I have seen before. I sit up here for a while, perched high above home and contemplate my choices. I had intended a short walk after the North Wales efforts earlier in the week, but the day is still young and the sunshine is calling me onwards. Besides which, this is one of those parts of the route where ending here would require an otherwise unnecessary climb at the start of the next walk. I decide to press on, at least as far as Crippetts. Leaving the fort, I head down to one of the many quarries hacked into the hillside, this one serving as a carpark now. I hunt around unsuccessfully for fossils, but to my astonishment, tucked into a crevice in the limestone, I find a pile of chalk-covered flint nodules, some quite large. Nothing worked that I can see, but I have always thought that flint was alien to this part of the Cotswolds, any flint tools being imports from the eastern downs (or further afield). Not so, it seems. Well, you live and learn. This post appears as part of the blog post "The Cotswold Way IV – Dowdeswell – Cooper’s Hill 20 April 2013" Comments (0)  |  Add a comment  |  Permalink

Posted by thesweetcheat 6th May 2013ce

Lineover (Long Barrow)

Reaching a field at the edge of the wood, the worst of the climb over, I leave the Cotswold Way route along another footpath, heading southwest. From here the view opens up beautifully to the north, where Cleeve Hill fills the skyline, with Cheltenham spread out below to the northwest. The reason for my temporary diversion lies just over the crest ahead of me, in the next field. Lineover long barrow has suffered greatly over the years. Now resembling an elongated round barrow, there is little to paint an obvious family resemblance to its near neighbours at Belas Knap or Crippetts. But pause a little longer – the positioning gives away its undoubted blood ties, perched below the highest point of the hill, but enjoying extensive views over the edge of the escarpment. Typical Cotswold-Severn long barrow location in fact. I’ve not been here for about 18 months, the grass is cropped shorter than on my previous visits. The barrow still stands to a height of over a metre and various large pieces of limestone can be seen resting here and there on the mound. There is no livestock in the field today, although the hardened prints around the field edge indicate that cows are still the usual occupants. The only real detraction from a visit remains the horribly busy A436, where I doubt many of the drivers ever notice the long barrow they pass in an eye-blink. The inevitable crump of shotguns can also be heard, far off. Still a worthwhile stop-off, an old friend to revisit, renew acquaintances and share some time together. This post appears as part of the blog post "The Cotswold Way IV – Dowdeswell – Cooper’s Hill 20 April 2013" Comments (0)  |  Add a comment  |  Permalink

Posted by thesweetcheat 6th May 2013ce

Auchlee (Stone Circle)

Visited May 5, 2013 Only discovered in 1977, Auchlee Recumbent Stone Circle surrounds a severely damaged ring-cairn situated on a low knoll 220 metres WNW of Auchlee farmhouse. Only five circle stones remain, the recumbent and four orthostats, all prostrate. In recent years it has been submerged in gorse. On this visit, the gorse was noticeably thinned, so much so that the two large stones of the inner kerb were easily photographed. Even one year ago they were almost totally obscured. However, as the photographs make clear, agriculture continues its relentless advance with the ploughing little more than a metre away from the recumbent stone. The site has no fence as protection, and currently cattle have been rampaging over it, 'ploughing' up the interior and leaving heaps of dung all around. I hesitate to think what the site would be like in wet weather: fortunately, at this visit, there had been little rain for a month, and the ground was firm. More information on this site is available at RCAHMS. Comments (0)  |  Add a comment  |  Permalink

Posted by LesHamilton 6th May 2013ce Edited 9th May 2013ce

Cairnwell Ring Cairn (Stone Circle)

Visited May 5, 2010 Cairnwell Ring Cairn formerly lay in Cairnwell Farm, some 175 metres southwest of its present location, which is at the roadside on Badentoy Avenue in the village of Portlethen. In 1995, to make way for an industrial development, Cairnwell Ring Cairn was totally excavated and reconstructed at its new site by AOC (Scotland). The ring-cairn is surrounded by a circle of four upright orthostats, none much more than a metre in height. More information at RCAHMS, where you can also view photographs of the monument in its original location. You can read a report on the Cairnwell excavation and repositioning at this link. Comments (4)  |  Add a comment  |  Permalink

Posted by LesHamilton 6th May 2013ce Edited 12th May 2013ce

Carreg-y-Llech (Barrow / Cairn Cemetery)

After Rhiannon's misc post , I just had to come back and check it out, it went straight to the top of the list. It is just like the reports indicated, 6 feet high, over six feet wide and only a foot 'n alf wide, leaning a bit to the west. It was suggested that it was part of a burial chamber, and I can see it being the only survivor of a dolmen of some sort. The coflein entry seems to suggest that the stone was moved off a tumulus, coarsely paved, but surely that is right where it is now. It is on a slight mound that could be described as coarsely paved, on the highest ground, in this field at least. No distant views can be had except a bit to the south east off into Denbighshire. It is a gnarled old stone, scarred and pitted, and very reminding of some of Avebury's sarsens stones. Comments (0)  |  Add a comment  |  Permalink

Posted by postman 6th May 2013ce

Paviland (Cliff Fort)

Good Friday. Despite being a candidate for perhaps one of the most ironic epithets ever conceived... when stripped of its religious connotations, the thought of quality time spent upon the Gower today is nevertheless an appealing one. Needless to say the plan didn't involve an unscheduled drive along the northern coastline of the peninsular, courtesy of a navigational error in the vicinity of Gowerton; however to my mind there are less salubrious ways to spend time. (Eventually) arriving at Pilton Green there is parking to be had on the verge of the access track for Pilton Green Farm (incredibly, notices appear to indicate that previous punters have actually seen fit to leave their cars upon the track. No wonder some farmers get pissed off with tourists). More or less opposite, across the B4247, a public footpath heads approx south-west (ish) along the border of a cultivated field, slowly losing height as it approaches the dramatic, crumbling cliff-line that constitutes 'the coast' in these parts. Where better, by definition, for a modern antiquarian with a penchant for cliff-forts to indulge himself on a sunny afternoon? In a little under a mile (I think) the path reaches said coastline, continuing down a rocky cove toward the equally rocky foreshore below the famous Paviland Cave... you know, the one that was the last resting place of the 'Red Lady'. Clearly well worth a look, but some other time, perhaps? Instead I head to the right along the coastal path and, in short order, come face to face with some pretty substantial defences isolating the cliff top from the hinterland to the north-east, demarcating a reasonably sized enclosure. I count three, successive barriers which, although obviously now pretty denuded - understandably so after being subjected to a couple of millennia of storms and what-have-you - nevertheless must have proved a formidable deterrent to any marauding war band back in the day. Steep, rocky flanks and plunging, vertical cliff-lines rendered any further artificial fortification superfluous to the other points of the compass. So, that's the archaeology, then. Or at least my basic interpretation of it. Good, solid, but not overwhelming. Not so the location.... what a glorious place to be! Having a 'mooch' about the enclosure, as you do, trying not to be blown over the edge by the powerful - not to mention freezing - wind (again, as you do), I notice an iron ring affixed to a rock. The mind retrieves the image of Neil Oliver (the hirsute archaeologist chap on TV.... Scottish, apparently) standing in what must be this very spot, trying not to appear utterly terrified prior to abseiling down to the Paviland Cave, the cave therefore no doubt located immediately below me. Yeah, buried in the very bowels of the living rock. Fair play to him, I say... it does seem a very small piece of metal to trust your hopes, dreams and aspirations - your very life - to. As for myself, I lie supine and simply enjoy the moment, the sheer aesthetic beauty of the location matched by an overwhelming feeling of belonging, if only for a short while, to something that transcends the here and now, if you get what I mean? The association of what it is to be human, to be part of humanity (and all the good, bad and humdrum 'stuff' that entails) with the imperium of time itself. Hence the need to lie down.... wouldn't be a good idea to get overly dizzy with all that thinking. Not when perched upon a towering cliff face. There is more. Much more, the enclosure set above the Paviland Cave but one of a chain of fortified settlements located, like a string of precious pearls, along this wondrous coast. One such example, in fact, lies immediately to the west in plain sight upon the Horse Cliff. It'd be rude not to go have a look while I'm here... a good Friday after all. Comments (0)  |  Add a comment  |  Permalink

Posted by GLADMAN 5th May 2013ce Edited 7th May 2013ce

Fan Nedd (Round Barrow(s))

Although a deep mantle of snow is blanketing the high tops - but thankfully not the valleys - of the South Walian hills.... and despite a c40mph wind assuring some very serious windchill at altitude... the Mam C is nevertheless in the mood for an Easter upland sojourn. To be honest I'm rather more of a wuss at the prospect of freezing to death upon some godforsaken (right on!) mountain, consequently deciding to play it safer than might otherwise have been the case. Why not pay a (very) overdue visit to the Bronze Age cairn said to stand upon the eastern shoulder of Fan Nedd? Yeah, I've no problem with rhetorical questions such as that. Passing the wondrous Maen Llia - is there a finer standing stone in all Wales? - we park just prior to where the minor road suddenly plunges diagonally down the precipitous face of Llethr to the Senni Valley below... a couple of vehicles can be safely left here, the spot, a great viewpoint, worthy of a visit in its own right. From here a stile crosses a dilapidated dry stone wall heading approx south-west toward distant Bwlch-y-Duwynt rising above the source of the Afon Nedd... and Fan Gyhirych. After a short while, however, we veer left and, upon breeching the snow line, commence the ascent toward the prominent 'marker cairn' visible crowning Fan Nedd's northern prow. Now some 'experts' will have you believe the Welsh mountains are a doddle to stroll up, completely failing to take into account the most obvious mitigating factor.... the weather. Well it does has a tendency to be somewhat, er, inclemental on a regular basis. I would suggest you pay them no heed and treat the uplands with the respect Nature demands, commands... and in any event deserves. I like to think we take matters seriously and 'walk the walk', although today 'stagger', 'slither' and 'stumble' are perhaps more appropriate descriptions as we do whatever it takes to traverse deep snow and attain an audience with one of South Wales' more strikingly placed Bronze Age cairns. Bronze Age? Well, yes, the aforementioned marker cairn, quite well built with an inherent 'wonky' charm, surmounts a deceptively large footprint far too substantial - I would suggest - to proffer a credible alternative origin in such a landscape context. Once again placement is everything, the summit of the mountain, without cairn, lying a considerable distance to the south and thus not party to the fabulous northern vista of the fertile Senni Valley to be blown away by here. Furthermore there is an uninterrupted view of the iconic tops of Corn Du and Pen-y-Fan to the east, rising beyond Maen Llia; looking west, those of Fan Gyhirych and Y Mynydd Du fill the skyline. All bear Bronze Age cairns in situ, several excavated to reveal cists. This is truly a location to linger for ... ooh, hours and hours. Except not for quite that long today. The cold is overwhelming, Nature in a most brutal mood indeed. Suffice to say we must move at incremental intervals simply to cope, taking the opportunity to visit the summit and partake of lunch overlooking the nascent Afon Nedd, its waters sourced upon the boggy col before Fan Gyhirych. It's instructive to ponder this is the very same water course which engages in such spectacular aerobatics further down its eponymous cwm. So, finally.... after all these years.... we proceed to lipslide (yeah!), with occasionally alarming alacrity, down the eastern flank of the mountain heading for the only position I would have conceivably placed a second, lower cairn. Had any Bronze Age big man been mad enough to put me in charge of operations, that is. Funnily enough I am correct. No, really. In solidarity with its higher companion the cairn is low and, to be fair, we might easilly have walked right over it if the snow hadn't been somewhat patchy 'down here'. However I concur with Coflein and reckon it is beyond reasonable doubt, the tell tale covering of moss failing to obscure what could quite probably be the remains of a kerb. Elements of a cist, however, are open to much more debate. Too fanciful, perhaps? Whatever the truth the cairn (once again) occupies a superb site overlooking the Maen Llia, be-cairned and settled Fan Llia providing the riven backdrop. As we hang out in the comparative warmth of this wondrous place a family wander up and seem somewhat bemused by our presence.... although I've a feeling the dad was actually a bit of a closet 'head'. Welcome my friend and spread the word. Leave your cars and take to the hills! Comments (3)  |  Add a comment  |  Permalink

Posted by GLADMAN 2nd May 2013ce

Broch of Steiro

Visited 15th April 2013 Shapinsay is a wild and windy place today, as we walk from the ferry at Balfour village on our pilgrimage to the Mor Stein. On the way there, just as we approached a ruined old kirk, an intriguing green mound caught our attention perched right on the coast. Lest the wind whips away the map, we duck into the shelter of the derelict church, the OS map confirming our suspicions that the mound is a ruined broch. Behind the church is an ivy clad vault, wonderfully atmospheric and containing the graves of the Balfour family, responsible for Shapinsay's castle, and from here we notice a gate that looks as if it leads to the field containing the broch. As it turns out it doesn't, merely opening into a graveyard annex, but back on the 'main road' an open gate into an empty field next to the old church allows us to access the broch. A large flock of Oystercatchers sweep by us as we cross the field, their raucous calls a constant soundtrack on Orkney. The low green lump of the broch is clearly visible against the sea, and behind it the nearby island of Helliar Holm, with its chambered cairn clearly visible atop that island's prominent hill. At the broch some stonework is visible on the landward side, but not until you pick your way across the rickety wire fence and down to the foreshore that more of the sweep of the broch's wall is visible perched precariously on the low cliff edge, the remains having succumbed to erosion long ago. Apparantly the site suffered heavily in the storms of February 1984, and it looks as if another heavy storm might be enough to finish it off for good. Down on the shore amongst the rocks it is more sheltered, a fine place to look out to sea, or up to the broch wall above you. Although little now remains of this ancient site it still retains a sense of presence, and is one of those places that is more than the sum of its parts, a lovely spot to spend a while. As we turned to leave a huge rainbow, a thick band low in the sky, quite unlike any I'd ever seen before, had appeared behind us, just another magical sight in Orkney. Comments (0)  |  Add a comment  |  Permalink

Posted by Ravenfeather 1st May 2013ce

Pen y Gadair Fawr (Cairn(s))

The Bronze Age cairn crowning the summit of Pen-y-Gadair-Fawr can not be seen from the fabulous monolith that is the Maen Llwyd, situated a little under a mile below to the south. Nevertheless aficionados of such monuments will probably require no directions save the prosaic 'up', common sense ensuring Citizens Cairn'd keep to the left of the lacerated hillside carved by the numerous sources of the Gargwy Fach. To be fair it is probably a pretty straightforward, albeit steep and tiring climb under 'reasonable' conditions, similar to that from the Grwyne Fawr to the east, I'd have thought? However today, suffering from the effects of fatigue having 'merely' made it to the standing stone (it is enough, to be honest), the flanks of Gadair Fawr loom.... nay tower... above me overpoweringly, overwhelming any fledgling resurgence of male bravado at source. Nevertheless the call is too strong.... I resolve to see how far I can get, if only to take a few snaps. Making no promises, now. The early stages are not too taxing, the occasional stumble down a snow-filled gulley notwithstanding, such indignant episodes proffering the opportunity to study the form of icicles in detail - too much detail for comfort, perhaps - exquisite water crystals shimmering in the sunlight. Then, however, the angle eases and the summit duly takes its place upon the horizon... the intervening landscape appearing positively benign, welcoming even, a winter wonderland resplendent beneath a well broken cloudscape advancing with the wind across a startlingly blue sky. Yeah, looks wonderful, but what a bugger of a landscape to try and walk across for those not used to such things, deep snow topped by a crust of ice tough enough to resist a walking pole, but unable to support 12 stones of me.... like trying to stagger across polystyrene, perhaps? Half way there it is time to see if I have another gear in reserve, so to speak. Seems I have... well, sort of. Eventually, rising beyond a more or less vertical cornice taking a couple of attempts to negotiate without crampons, there it is. The summit, unrecognisable from my visit with the Mam C some years back (but none the worse for that), the full winter raiment truly mind blowing in its brilliant, shining intensity, the upland landscape in complete contrast to the usual ubiquitous upland grass. The conditions are technically not the best for studying the form of Bronze Age cairns.... nevertheless the size of this one can not be camouflaged by a blanket of snow and protective shell of ice. Sure, there is an obligatory small walkers' cairn on top - thankfully no muppet storm shelter, though - but it is the massive underlying footprint which impresses, the ancient cairn clearly well worthy of the site chosen for it millennia before. It is perhaps noteworthy that Waun Fach, rising to the north-west, is actually the highest point of the Black Mountains' summit ridge, but, lacking the distinctive profile of Pen-y-Gadair-Fawr, does not possess a cairn. For what it's worth I reckon it never did so, suggesting the Bronze Age locals had a fundamental, sophisticated appreciation of landscape form. Indeed, the Mam C and I have referred to Pen-y-Gadair-Fawr as 'the nipple mountain' for years, the cairn set in profile upon its breast. Check it out for yourselves.... Despite the bitter cold I am in no hurry to leave; no way, not after such a pilgrimage to get here again, the landscape exhibiting a 'purity' seemingly not apparent at other times. To the west the Brecon Beacons reside like a veritable cathedral of marble upon a patchwork of green fields, to the east the ridge carrying the Offa's Dyke path defining the border with England, similarly attired. I think of numerous other cairns.... round, chambered, long... which still stand sentinel upon this landscape together with the ancient settlements, the hillforts where people used to live. Hey, the standing stones, even, and ponder - as you do - that the cairn upon which I sprawl for a couple of hours before starting the long trek back to the car was part of a very Big Picture indeed. Back then. Come to think of it, it still is today. Comments (2)  |  Add a comment  |  Permalink

Posted by GLADMAN 30th April 2013ce

Maen Llwyd (Twyn Du) (Standing Stone / Menhir)

Solitary standing stones are, I confess, generally my least favourite genre of prehistoric monument. Rules, however, are defined by exceptions.... and I've had my beady eye upon the Maen Llwyd ever since the previous posters highlighted the wonderful location it occupies. But how to get there? Forestry complicates matters from the south and west, Pen-y-Gadair-Fawr and its peers rendering an approach from east and north impractical for all but the most dedicated of stonehead. There are other adjectives. Since the other two gentlemen chose the latter option I, in the interests symmetry, you understand - not to mention altruism for those that may wish to come after - elect an low level approach from the Grwyne Fechan. From the charming, bustling town of Crickhowell, chambered cairns still overlooking both banks of the Afon Wysg (River Usk) as they have done for millennia, the Llanbedr Road heads uphill past the DanyGrug cottages, trending left beneath the decapitated, fortified summit of Crug Hywel to eventually terminate near Hermitage Bridge. A little beforehand it is possible to park several cars - or it would have been if not for the large blocks of ice littering the environs.... the usual - and, covering the final section of tarmacadum on foot, I veer left upon a bridleway ascending the western flank of a forestry plantation, heading roughly north-west. Pen Twyn Gwyn rears up above the Grwyne Fechan, its crest the location of precious finds of artefacts mislaid/deposited (?) by prehistoric hunter dudes way back when.... truly, it is worth the walk simply to follow in their footsteps. As for the other flank of the valley, that is formed by the highest ground in The Black Mountains, my destination today. As mentioned earlier forestry complicates matters of route finding, although, to be fair, the conditions are soon to prove the primary consideration. Initially I elect to head for Tal-y-Maes farm and pick up a forestry track parallel to the Gargwy Fawr.... however the farm track is sheet ice, dangerously impassable unless one happens to possess the balance and grace of a Katarina Witt... needless to say I have neither. Wouldn't say no to one-on-one lessons, though. Plan B (no, not the rapper bloke.... that would have been surreal) heads north across fenced fields, west of the farm. Fencelines aren't an issue, unlike the deep snow which renders progress painstakingly, exhaustingly slow. Not used to this. Nevertheless I eventually manage to struggle up to a forestry track following the near flank of the far treeline to the north. Plan B would have been pretty cunning if it had included following this track all the way to the forestry's northern limits, leaving just a short ascent to the right at the end in order to attain the stone; however I decide to head for the little hill of Twyn Du and find myself more or less marooned up to my bits in drifting snow, a sad, forlorn figure pondering what to do next... literally out of his depth. Yeah, in hindsight it was a rubbish plan, so it was. In an attempt to make headway I cut back into the trees, but find the interior choked with a twisted mass of organic debris. Emerging into the light once more two shaggy ponies back away as if not wishing to be seen with such a muppet. Not good for the equine image, mixing with the tourists, you know? Nevertheless the prize is near at hand, albeit still requiring a final considerable uphill effort to attain. I prepare to be distinctly underwhelmed following such an overwhelming approach. But I am not. Far from it. In fact I'm greatly impressed by the elegant menhir which stands before me, more or less human height and leading the beady eye along the forest-line toward the bwlch between distant Mynydd Llysiau and Pen Trumau to the approx north-west. The upper section of the monolith features a 'step', an argument connecting this with possible sighting upon the aforementioned landscape feature perhaps not excessively fanciful? Then again I'm no expert in these matters. For me that fact that it is so goddam beautiful here, so peaceful, so serene, possessing such an evocative vibe, is what matters. The serenity can not last, however..... yeah, there it goes again, insidiously burrowing into my psyche.... the unspoken siren call of the high places. Like a moth unto the flame, as they say. Comments (1)  |  Add a comment  |  Permalink

Posted by GLADMAN 29th April 2013ce Edited 2nd May 2013ce

Achkinloch (Chambered Cairn)

Visited 12th April 2013 What a difference from my first visit here ten years ago. Then I had to climb a rickety fence and wade ankle deep through bog, all the while being battered by the wind with stinging freezing rain hammering me in the face. Today things are much more civilised. The weather is positively warm for the northerly latitude, and a nice new gate from Achavanich accesses the field, the cairn being easily visible on higher ground to the east of the great 'U' of Stemster. The route to the cairn is still marshy, a drainage stream cuts the cairn off from the Achavanich stones, but a wooden plank has been placed across it to allow access. It is so damp at the moment though that the plank threatens to be swamped, and I carefully pick my way across it, with arms extended for balance, feeling very Tomb Raider. Keeping my feet dry I arrive at the cairn, which affords a fantastic view across the stone setting to Loch Stemster, while if you turn to your left mountains dominate the distant horizon, today snow capped and lovely. The cairn must once have been huge, for it is still a fair size although denuded in size, and 1,000 years older than the stones it overlooks. It is possible to make out what looks to once have been an entrance passage, though now collapsed in on itself, and the central chamber still forms a fine cist. Now that access is easier make sure not to leave out Achkinloch on a visit to Achavanich, just make sure you bring some waterproof shoes! Comments (0)  |  Add a comment  |  Permalink

Posted by Ravenfeather 28th April 2013ce

Aviemore (Clava Cairn)

Visited 12th April 2013 Despite the fact that we regularly stop off in Aviemore on our northward jouneys, I realise with shock that it's been at least ten years since I last visited the circle. There is really no excuse, the circle being conveniently located just to the north of the town, even being handily signposted just next to the fire station, and being located in a quiet cul-de-sac parking next to the monument is not a problem. Although the houses encroach right up to the stones, giving the impression that the circle was nothing more than a civic monument to spice up a humdrum estate, when you actually get here you appreciate the fine qualities of the site. It is a fine circle, and suprisingly easy to imagine how things would once have been before the houses were built during Aviemore's expansion in the 1960's. The mountains stand proud on the horizon, snow capped today, placing the circle in a natural amphitheatre. The chunky stones are substantial, with a couple of outliers concentrically set on the outside of the circle, the groundplan making a lot more sense if you've previously had of pleasure of visiting Balnuaran of Clava. We picnic in the centre of the circle, joined by a friendly local dog, but are struck just by how nicely kept the circle is, there being not a scrap of rubbish or other damage as might often by expected at more 'urban' sites, as well as a generally relaxed feeling of welcome here. I certainly didn't get the impression of any 'curtain twitching' or otherwise feeling of discomfort as we lesiurely ate our lunch, and took inumerable photos from every conceivable angle. A lovely site, like a fondly remembered meal that you don't realise how good it is until you experince it again, I'll make sure I visit the circle next time we come this way, and I'd certainly recommend if you're ever in Aviemore you do the same. Comments (1)  |  Add a comment  |  Permalink

Posted by Ravenfeather 28th April 2013ce

Drosgl Cairns (Cairn(s))

We approached from the south west, parking in Gerlan on the east side of Bethesda. As we gain some height, the wind which had been negligible down by the car began to get stronger, fortunately at this point it was pushing us up the hill, TSC reminded me of the wind on Carnedd Llewelyn last year and I make the unwarranted assertion that it's not that strong yet. The wind soon began to be the third member in our highland walkabout, we shall call him windy. We make for the Drosgl summit as directly as possible, the walk was mostly nice and easy, it's not too boggy, other parts of Snowdonia are mostly boggy, but here it is obligingly firm and dry. To the east the mountain views are long and wide from on top of Gyrn Wigau, all the high Carneddau are strung out before us from Foel Fras to Pen yr Ole Wen, all speckled with snow hidden from the sun. In the opposite direction is cairn topped Moel Faban, ditto for Moel Wnion, and beyond these shapely hills Angelsey floats amid a tropical looking sea. Behind us is the not so pretty site of the Penrhyn quarries, a massive ugly scar forced upon the most lovely countryside in Wales, a constant reminder of Mans willingness to sell even the ground under his feet. Half way between Gyrn Wigau and Drosgl are two rock stacks, the path, such as it is , weaves between them. As we approach them they appear to us as rocky sentinels, guarding the higher "heavenly" lands, we pick one and sit out of the wind as best we can. Just below us three wild-ish ponies are grazing on the wide ridge, they seem utterly ignorant of old windy. The sight of the high mountains to our east growing dark in cloud shadows, then bright and colourful in the bright sunlight, are really very easy on the eye. We head on. The footpath wont take us to the top of Drosgl, instead it passes by on the south side and carries on up to Carnedd Uchaf, now renamed as Carnedd Gwenllian (Why, how and by whom I dont know). We take the path as long as we can and then bolt off to our left just making for the highest point, it gets very rocky on the summit, thousands of tonnes of broken shattered rock, enough cairn material to create a whole cairn cemetery. There are three cairns here, the highest point is occupied at the moment by a small walkers cairn. It also has the best view of the mountains. Away from the mountain view, on the north west edge of the summit plateau are the other two cairns, obviously the view this way was far more important to them, but is it the sea ? or is it Angelsey that holds such captivation ? Windy is now in a far more playful mood, if you turn your back on him for a moment he'll try and push you over, if you turn and face him its like being continuously hit in the face by an eleven year old with a heavy pillow, just like it in fact. We sit in the wind shadow cast by the big cairn admiring the view over Moel Wnion, immediately beyond our feet is the strangest cairn up here, sited as to be oblivious to the geographical grandeur behind us and the big cairn. It is apparent it's been reconstructed, the large kerb stones are perfect and obvious, no slippage here. But among all the superfluous cairn material it is hard to discern, it only reaches a height of perhaps two feet, regarding it from the north it is all but invisible. The big cairn overshadows it somewhat as well, being at least ten times the size, it is flat topped and hazardous to walk across, not vengeful spirits, nor some overwhelming respect for ancient monuments, just trying to protect your ankles. It is roundabout now that I internally concede that it is now as windy or windier than it was last year up on Llewelyn, you have to brace yourself against it just in order to take a picture. Windy is fair screaming in my ears like a Harrier jump jet hovering before me, I cant hear a word Alken says and instead try to read his lips/facial expressions/ posture. We decide that this isn't the time for sitting around and watching, so we agree that a walk over to the twin rocky citadels of Bera Mawr or Bera Bach would be most beneficial. In the end just one wouldn't do, so we have a scramble all over them both telling ourselves it's training wheels for Tryfan in the summer. I hope so. But now it is time to move on some more, sadly all on the way back to the car, we head for Moel Wnion but change our minds as windy has brought his mate with him, Drizzle. Minds changed we head straight for Moel Faban, via a mellow gorge named Bwlch ym Mhwll-le, the weather likes our decision and shows it's sunny side. But from here, it is somewhere else's field notes. Comments (5)  |  Add a comment  |  Permalink

Posted by postman 27th April 2013ce Edited 30th April 2013ce

Commons (Court Tomb)

We pulled in to Fenagh and parked up at the still functioning Church of Ireland church. Just as we got out of the car, the heavens opened with an almighty hail storm. My companion had a dog and agreed that it would be better if he went for a stroll around the old ecclesiastical sites while I checked the court tomb over the road. Once the hail had stopped I headed over. It's not too far into the field and there was only one or two sheep in the vicinity. I headed down to the tomb and started to have a gawk. It is very prettily situated on a small hillock in sloping pasture. Just as I was trying to come to grips with its layout, attack of the very hungry sheep got underway. Suddenly, as if out of thin air, 100 sheep and lambs decided that I was daddy and that I had some fodder for them in these lean, hungry times. I've never had to retreat from a site because of sheep, but the racket they were making was enough to force me back without ever really having taken the time this tomb deserves. Ah well, there was always Elvis up the road! Comments (0)  |  Add a comment  |  Permalink

Posted by ryaner 27th April 2013ce

Gartnanoul (Chambered Tomb)

A nice evening stroll through Killykeen Forest Park, from the northern approach via Killashandra. This is that rare monument in the republic - marked on the map of the amenity and now in its own fenced enclosure. The forestry will be re-planted but there is a sufficient gap surrounding it to allow it to breathe a little. 5 minutes up the track from the parking space are the de-nuded remains of a co. Cavan dual court tomb. There is still much of the cairn/mound material lying strewn about and both tombs retain much of their structural stones. The gap between the backstones of the tombs is quite large, maybe 8 metres, the courts of both similarly diminutive. The stones are all of the same conglomerate that is found in the locality. I'm beginning to think that I'm better off going to these places on my own, as most people that I go with are only momentarily interested and I don't get enough time to drink in the atmosphere. My companion here was bored within 5 minutes, so my visit was curtailed. Comments (1)  |  Add a comment  |  Permalink

Posted by ryaner 27th April 2013ce

Athgoe Hill (Round Barrow(s))

Large barrow on the top of Athgoe Hill, just about inside the county Dublin boundary. Athgoe Hill and Lyons Hill are the last, most north-westerly, of a series of hills/mountains that form an arc to the south of Dublin city. Access to the barrow is easy as there's a track up to the aerial/mobile phone mast. It's quite henge-like, about 45 metres in diameter and also quite ploughed/eroded away. In fact the national monument's database has this as an enclosure, with the remains of the barrow downslope to the north of here. Comments (0)  |  Add a comment  |  Permalink

Posted by ryaner 27th April 2013ce