Corsencon - 13 January

O were I on Parnassus hill, 

Or had of Helicon my fill, 

That I might catch poetic skill 

To sing how dear I love thee! 

But Nith maun be my muse's well, 

My muse maun be thy bonnie sel'; 

On Corsincon I'll glower and spell, 

And write how dear I love thee. Robert Burns

Kenny R, Kenny T, Jim, Robert, Paul, Davie C, Davie M, Rex, Gus, Alan and Malcolm (despite disinformation from certain quarters).
There haven’t been many opportunities this season to enjoy a proper winter’s day, but today we struck lucky.

Many of us had already spotted snow on Corsencon as we headed towards our assembly point in Cumnock, where the car park had a thin glaze of ice and a smattering of hail. There was just time enough to construct a slide in the car park before we set off for New Cumnock.

Mansfield Road, the long road out from Pathhead, was treacherous with black ice, but fortunately the grass verge provided a sounder footing. On our previous expedition we had stopped for coffee at the water filter serving Glen Farm, so no discussion was necessary on our second outing. We were now above the snow line so Rex donned his Yak Trax © and with caffeine levels topped up, immediately moved into overdrive as we recommenced our long ascent. In fact, the fresh snow on the road made the walking much easier for everyone.

We took a peak at the kilns of the old Craigdullyeart Lime Works, attractively embellished by the contents of a ripped-out kitchen, and in no time we were ready to leave the tarmac to begin our ascent of the hill itself. It was observed that no trace remained of the coal conveyor.

There was now proper snow underfoot and we were grateful to Gus for leading the way and creating footings for those in his train.  In hollows, the snow was a good foot deep. The trig point at 1547 feet was soon reached and we lingered on the summit of Corsencon to admire the view and pose for the official photograph.

On our first visit we had made a very steep descent, but this time we followed more gentle contours with just a short steep section near the foot of the hill. At the foot, an extremely high fence topped by barbed wire (so that’s why you offered to write the blog. Ed.) blocked our path and Paul eventually admitted defeat, but 50 yards further on was able to step over that same fence.

As before, we stopped for lunch at the mobile phone mast.

The return to New Cumnock was far easier than the way out since the roads had been gritted. We did, however, manage to leave Alan behind as he stopped for whatever he had to stop for. Someone with an ability to count beyond 10 realised we’d lost one of our number and glanced back.

“What’s Alan doing back there?”, he asked.

“Trying to catch up”, came the reply.

And on we went.

Just as Alan was about to bridge the gap, a car which had passed us earlier returned and drew up alongside Alan. The window was wound down and something about viewing puppies was discussed with the two women in the car.

FRT was taken at the Black Bull in Mauchline. By this time the rain which had been forecast had started.

For once the weather gods had smiled on us.