By the time a researcher named Bowman noted it in 1934, the mound itself had already been levelled, yet even then enough survived to record a surrounding bank roughly 34 feet in diameter and a mound base measuring just over 22 feet across. A depression at the centre of the mound site suggested the interior had been disturbed, as is common with monuments of this kind, where the raised earth that once marked a burial gradually collapsed or was deliberately dug into over the centuries.

The monument fared no better in the decades that followed. By the 1980s it had been levelled again, more thoroughly this time, and a field fence now cuts across its northern side. What Bowman recorded in partial survival has since retreated further into the landscape, leaving only a low rise to betray the outer bank. The site does, however, sit on ground with extensive views to the south and east, a placement that was almost certainly deliberate. Prehistoric communities across Ireland tended to situate burial monuments on elevated or visually prominent ground, and Glentanedowney is consistent with that pattern. A second ring barrow survives roughly 230 metres to the south-east, suggesting this part of north Cork once held a small concentration of such monuments, the kind of funerary landscape that archaeologists increasingly recognise as socially and territorially significant rather than isolated in its occurrence.