Posts Tagged ‘ridgeway’
Ridgeway – The walk, the hawk and the chalk
Saturday 28th August, 2010 – Ridgeway, Oxfordshire.
I was lucky enough to get to walk for a day along The Ridgeway – a trackway that follows the prominent chalk ridge running through Oxfordshire and into Wiltshire. It is famous as an ancient trackway and pilgrimage route across England, and its modern version stretches from Ivinghoe Beacon in Oxfordshire to Overton Hill near Avebury in Wiltshire (see official site). The Ridgeway passes some of the most interesting ancient sites that I have encountered, including the Chalk Horse at Uffington, Wayland’s Smithy burial mound, and in its later stages it passes close to Avebury stone circle. On many parts of the trail you are following the Great Dragon Line (a.k.a. The Mary and Micheal Line) - the long ley line running from Norfolk to Cornwall.
During the walk I was in company, and so didn’t perform many of the deep meditations that I have now come to associate with being at these sites. However, I was able to “say hello” to the places, and to get some recognition from them about my presence there, which was intensely satisfying. Here, I will share some of those moments with you, but primarily this is going to be a visual catalogue of some Ridgeway sights, and an opportunity for me to try to set the record straight on some naming conventions.
Segsbury Camp
I only stoped briefly to photograph the ‘camp’. It is designated and described as a hillfort, which it may well have been. It’s nto a particularly good place, I feel, to build such a military structure, but then I didn’t build it, so I don’t know the circumstances. However, I am becoming more inclined to the idea that such enclosures may have served another purpose, and that was to either keep out or funnel in earth energy. The ditches would prevent the ingress of earth energy flows, except for the four entrances that the enclosure had. There doesn’t seem to be much in the way of archaeological evidence for battle, that’s for sure. Here’s the Wikipedia entry about it:-
“The fort has extensive ditch and ramparts and has four ‘gateways’. Excavation at the site by Dr Phene, in 1871, discovered a cist grave on the south side of the hill fort rampart. The grave was floored with stone slabs and the sides were walled with flint. Finds included a shield boss and fragments of an urn or drinking cup. Among other finds were human bones and flint scrapers.” (source: Wikipedia)
The “walled with flint” bit is interesting. I wonder if that conducted or repelled the subtle energies around? Next time I visit I will try to dowse it for the energy flows and that may reveal more about it, whether any energy comes in, goes out, flows through or under the site.
Trail of the White Dragon: Part 2 – Uffington Chalk Horse
Uffington Chalk Horse: August 20th 2009
This is the second of three parts of a modern-day faerytale of George and the Dragon. In the first part I was meditating at Wayland’s Smithy and heard an instruction to “go for a ride”. I was in little doubt that this advice referred to the nearby ‘White Horse’ etched out in the chalk hills above Uffington village, and so I made my way there in the glorious August afternoon sun to see if I could work out where exactly I should be, and to see what would happen if I found the right place.
As I arrived at the top of the formation I couldn’t work out where I was relative to anything so I walked straight down the hill arriving almost immediately at two protruding straight lines. Odd! Looked like a mouth or something, so I plucked out the crab appleI had been carrying and placed it neatly between the “jaws”. I smiled – it looked like it was eating the little apple – a huge horse with a tiny apple. I could see other chalk paths now, but was careful not to tread on them. I moved fiurther down the hill and to the right, realising I was near the head. I was looking for the shoulder and flank, so I headed right and down.

Oddly, I didn’t use my dowsing rods to locate the spot. Instead I reasoned that a good spot to ride any animal might be the junction of the head with the back of the figure, and that’s where I went – straight to it. Conveniently there was a small man-sized hollow at just that point, and I made myself comfortable, lazing in the afternoon sunshine, welcoming the break from work and enjoying the view down the hill. From my vantage point three elements became apparent to me:
1. The ‘horse’ had a forked tongue
2. The plainly man-made folds of the hill below me spread out like a wing…a dragon’s wing.
3. The small flat-topped hill that was enclosed by this ‘wing’ I remembered was called “Dragon’s Hill”
Then it dawned on me – this was no horse. Only from this particular spot could all of the three unusual aspects of this figure be seen from the right perspective to make this apparent on the ground. Faint memories of other people having said the same thing floated through my mind. From that moment of revelation onwards I could no longer see this unique feature as a horse again! Sure, there were other chalk horses in the area, but they looked like horses – in their proportions and their features. This elongated chalk figure was nothing like those carvings at all. It was uniquely different. For me this will now be The Uffington White Dragon.

Alton Barnes White Horse
I meditated on this and tuned into the landscape, dissolving my sense of self into the sunlight, the winds and the view. Before long I felt the familiar surge of some inner notion and felt it connecting, becoming aware of the movement of nature, its interactions, and at the same time its one-ness. Such metap[hysics never comes across well in print. When it is felt, however, experienced – then its beauty can be appreciated. A semi-blissful state of mind, body and spirit – some days fleeting, others seemingly forever.
In this moment I was focusing on Dragon’s Hill without purpose. It just fell into view. I saw the mound in motion – the twin dragons of male and female, the red and the white, intertwining, writhing. A curling column of energy launched from them upwards into the Oxfordshireair and fell towards me. I could see an egg shaped object inside its mouth as it fell into me in a sudden plunge and I felt the egg land in my chest. I could see it spinning in me – white, then gold, next time I looked it was white again, then gold when I blinked. What was this thing, I mused to myself? “The dragon egg - the golden heart.” I answered myself.
After the shock and the bliss state had worn off I seemed remarkably unperturbed by the whole event. I felt a little proud and excited at this. What could this be? By its tenuous link with perception it was clear to me that it was an invention of my mind, yet it felt incredibly physical too – like I was wearing it inside my chest. I practised not noticing it – yes, I could still operate in the rational world – no-one was staring at my white then gold chest, I wasn’t glowing or anything, and I still had my wits about me.
I started to get up, and as I did so I saw a negative image of the Dragon’s Hill in my eyes – it looked like a stone circle. It flashed momentarily then there was only a faint after-image. Too long in the sun! I told myself. Where were my sunglasses when I needed them?
A stone circle. A stone circle. Circle. Another kindly signpost. Would that be where I could hatch this “egg” – the golden egg? It felt like an episode of The Goodies! The Christmas Special episode of the late 1970s where everybody’s running is speeded up as they’re chased through various old children’s stories like Jack and the Beanstalk and the Goose That Laid The Golden Egg.
I went back to the car to check the maps. Stone circles in the area…stone circ…Avebury! Of course. It was late afternoon now. I would be there just as the light was beginning to sink to the horizon. Perfect timing, by coincidence. What an over-used word.
Gwas
Sliding down the scales of The Dragon
Trail of the White Dragon: Part 1 – Wayland’s Smithy
Wiltshire – August 20th, 2009
There’s something mystical about Wiltshire. This county has more than its fair share of ancient sacred sites and now crop circle formations too. Wiltshire boasts Avebury, Stonehenge, Old Sarum, West Kennet Long Barrow, The Ridgeway ancient track, the list goes on and on. ‘Plan A’ was to find any remaining crop circles to dowse them – ‘Plan B’ was to ‘follow my nose’ and see what happened.
Yes, We Have No Crop Circles
If you intend to visit and stay in Wiltshire you could do far worse than to stay at The Seven Stars pub. It is close to Marlborough and the Ridgeway, and more importantly for cereologists, it is close to Alton Barnes and The Barge Inn – now landmarks of renown on the crop circle tours. The landlord and landlady were incredibly helpful and the food at this pub was outstanding. Highly recommended if you plan to stay in this area. If you want to see any crop circles, however, I’d recommend going in July.
The names of the places are all vaguely familiar if you’ve been reading books and web sites about crop circles for long enough: Alton Barnes, Ogbourne St.George, Banbury Castle, Silbury Hill. These are quaint names that evoke thoughts of ancient Britain, stone monuments, wheat fields, chalk figures and old churches. They are also places of renowned earth energy – possibly not a coincidence to the crop circle phenomenon.
There’s one thing that’s modern about Wiltshire though: the farming methods are bang up to date. On the day I arrived, a new moon, there seemed to be a note in every farmer’s diary – “Thursday 20th: Harvest stupid crop circle fields today.” Sadly, by the time I had travelled down from Cheshire and then had dilly-dallied with a handful of the wealth of sacred sites that are sprinkled liberally around this part of Britain, all of the crop circles that remained only day earlier had been harvested. In fact, the last one was being bailed as I drove out to find it. Ah well, maybe a slight change of plan was required for the next day. Nevertheless I had spent an intriguing day travelling along the white dragon’s trail. What dragon’s trail? I’m so glad you asked! ‘Plan B’ was in action.
The Setting
The Ridgeway is a line of chalk stone that forms a ridge running from Overton Hill near Avebury in Wiltshire to Ivinghoe Beacon hill, near Tring in Berkshire. It’s around 87 miles in length and predominantly runs along a chalkstone ridge. It is an ancient trackway, possibly a ceremonial or processional path too. This links in with the recent idea that Stonehenge was once used for large-scale celebrations at specific solstice times of the year. The area may have harboured tribes who worshipped horse gods – the so-called Epona Cult – and consequently there are several white chalk horses carved into the hillsides of the valleys of the North and South Downs. The most famous of these horses – The Uffington White Horse – is something different, however, and I will come to that in the next post where some evidence suggests an alternative perspective.
An Old Straight Track
I parked at the Uffington White Horse car park, and headed for a site that I had longed to visit: the intriguingly named “Wayland’s Smithy“.
The character of Wayland The Smith has a long pedigree. I first came across him in Susan Cooper’s trilogy of books called “The Dark Is Rising” in which she interwove a modern setting with traditional Celtic characters and motifs. John “Wayland” Smith makes an appearance to forge magical symbols from elements to create a crossed circle which was then fitted to a belt of power. The elemental magic item was then used to repel the rising forces of The Dark, symbolised as the forces of Winter.
The essence of the Western Mystery Tradition was embedded in these excellent stories, and the maturation, the transformation and rebirth of a young adult named Will Stanton, a solar hero. His achieving union with the forces of The Light and Summer was the grand finale of this epic struggle. Another elderly character, Merriman Lyon, is a thinly-veiled personification of Merlin meanwhile.
The Ridgeway was evocative of The Old Straight Track of ley line history, or the track spoken of in the rhymes in her books that I used to memorise:
When the Dark comes rising, six shall turn it back;
Three from the circle, three from the track;
Wood, bronze, iron; water, fire, stone;
Five will return, and one go alone.
As I walked the chalk track up to Wayland’s Smithy, such thoughts came back to me like a much-loved song.
For more about Wayland, here’s an article from a Berkshire history web site. For me, Wayland symbolised a place or person who could help you to forge a symbol or sign of value that could be used to advance one’s learning and progress in the ways of the western mystery tradition.
Lucky for me then, that without any forethought that’s exactly what happened. Symbols must have been on my mind.
Lair of the White Dragon: Wayland’s Smithy
The site is almost hidden by trees, and is only noticeable because of a small signpost pointing the way to the copse of beech trees huddled amidst farmed fields. I dowsed straight away for an entrance point to the site. As no-one was around at the time I respectfully waited at the two tall beeches that guarded the entrance way and felt a gentle tug at my sacral chakra point, which indicated assent, so I entered.
I then asked to find “my place” or power centre where I could take stock of the site from. I was taken to a place on top of the barrow where I de-camped my gear. Next, I wanted to determine what type of energies were present around the site. No matter where I went I read for male, female and neutral energies all around. The whole site seemed to be a complete white stream energy field encircled and enclosed by a ring of old beech trees.
At the back of the barrow, off to one side in a small circular clearing where someone had had a fire I found a strong terminus point for a white stream. At this spot there was a bare patch of earth. I decide this would be the place to ask for a manifestation of the site’s own symbol, as I had done at other sacred sites before. The shape that had been manifested I took as a sigil of the site – it’s symbolic expression of energy – it’s signature, if you like.
I don’t know how the Rosicrucians derived their ideas of how to discover such symbols, but my own sigil was discovered through deep meditation. Finding the sigil for the spirit guardian of Wayland’s Smithy was done by asking and then dowsing the shape. Perhaps it was my polite manner, or good fortune, but one appeared for me at the termination point of the spiralling white stream energy that flowed across the site. Here is the symbol I dowsed – Wayland’s Sign:
As I wandered back to my power place I contemplated the mood of this site. It seemed like a great place to prepare yourself, perhaps for a spiritual journey – very calming, peaceful, and reassuring. The dappled light from the tall beech trees made it feel calming and I found myself smiling a great deal while I was there.
I went back to the entrance to the site, between the two tall beech trees in front of the main large stones, where there is a small bare patch of earth. I drew site ‘key’ sigil in the earth with my staff and felt a much stronger pull from the guardian trees. I walked back up to my power centre and ate my lunch whilst various visitors briefly inspected the site, then left contented that they had ticked their itinerary box.
As I sat on my power centre located on one of the three capstones to the chamber’s entrance, seated in a small depression in the rock, it occurred to me to draw my sigil in chalk on my power centre. As I did this my attention was drawn to the cup marks in the stones on either side of the chamber. I wondered if they were anything like the marks in the stone at Nine Stones Close in Derbyshire. I wondered if they would activate the site in some way. I dowsed the marks and found that I got agreement with this idea, but today was not the day to work with this site, I felt. I wasn’t ready to do that yet.
Instead I just meditated in the cooling afternoon breeze, lulled by the sound of the tree’s branches brushing each other gently. As I went into a trance I heard a phrase repeated over and over. “Go for a ride” it said. Go for a ride? On what, I wondered? On the nearby white horse of Uffington perhaps? I sprang up, mobilised. Of course it was. I packed and left to head back to where I had parked – I could pick up the path to the chalk horse from near the car park.
En route I picked up a small crab apple lying in the path heading for the chalk horse – it seemed like an apple might do very well for a horse! I made my way towards Uffington Castle to reach the great carving. Little did I know that a revelation was awaiting me.
Gwas Myrddyn
On the trail of the White Dragon…




When the Dark comes rising, six shall turn it back;
