That uncertainty is, in its own way, the most interesting thing about it. The landscape here is cluttered with rocks and boulders, and somewhere among them lie the remains of what might once have been a megalithic chamber, the kind of stone-built burial structure that communities in Ireland were constructing thousands of years ago, long before written record. What makes this site unusual is not grandeur but ambiguity; it resists easy classification, and even trained eyes find it difficult to interpret.

What can be distinguished, with some effort, is a possible chamber roughly two and a half metres long and about one and two metres wide, opening toward the north-east. These dimensions are consistent with the smaller end of megalithic tomb chambers, though the site is so ruined that the label itself remains provisional. Paul Gosling, who documented the monument in the Archaeological Inventory of County Galway, published in 1993, described it carefully as a possible remnant rather than a confirmed monument. That caution is telling. The rocky defile setting, while dramatic in a geological sense, has also made it harder to distinguish deliberate human construction from the natural scatter of stone that characterises so much of the Connacht landscape.