Where the Bronze Age lives on!
Cheesewring doesn’t care if it falls—it’s been teetering since the Bronze Age. This granite stack, perched above Minions, should’ve been blasted to bits by quarrymen who carved Bodmin Moor for London’s bridges. In the 1800s, they took dynamite to nearby pits like Phoenix United, but Cheesewring got a pass. Too wobbly to bother? Or did some miner fancy its grit? Locals still bet on when it’ll topple, sipping pints in Minions’ Hurlers Inn. It’s no polished monument—just a pile of slabs, leaning like a drunk against the wind. Scramble the moor’s paths, spot The Hurlers nearby, and you’ll feel the quarrymen’s ghosts sizing you up. Fog rolls in fast, so pack a coat and boots that don’t mind muck. The Minions Heritage Centre spills the moor’s mining tales, but Cheesewring’s silence says more. It’s Bodmin’s odd mate, spared for a laugh. Add your story at contact.html or crash at our VRBO cottage for more moorland rambles.
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