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.

Corsencone Hill, 13 January.

Corsencon

29 October                                          Corsencon

Alan, Davie C, Davie Mc, Gus, Jimmy, Johnny, Paul, Peter, Rex & Robert

Nith shall be my muses well,

My muse shall be thy bonnie sel’,

On Corsencon I’ll glower and spell..........                 Robert Burns

Corsencon is that igneous lump, a volcanic plug that stands at the head of Nithsdale three miles or so east of New Cumnock in Ayrshire. Only one of us had been on its top and that more years ago than he cares to remember. Yet, often as we have travelled along the A76 to our more southerly walks we have looked at its rounded summit and said ‘One day........’. That day was today. The idea was to walk along the banks of the Nith, climb the tarmac of the unclassified road that leaves the A76 at the March Cottages, follow this to the north side of the hill and climb to the summit from here. But the best laid schemes of Ooters gang aft agley.

Our New Cumnock correspondent said that due to the heavy, monsoon-like conditions of the other day the meadows on both sides of the river would be saturated and the wee burns which would normally be passable would, today, be impassable for men of our vintage. His solution was to walk up the Mansfield road to the north side of the hill and proceed from there. This is what we did.

We know that somebody up there likes us for the day was dry after all the rain of the previous days and there was the promise of some late October sun later in the day. We took our time walking along this road examining the new house that once was Mansfield Mill, trying to identify the course of the Roman road as it crossed tarmac near Glen Farm and continually looking at the flooding in the meadows by the river. It was a good decision not to follow the river today. Then we stopped for a caffeine top up on the water filter for Glen Farm.

No sooner than had we left our coffee stop than we were stopped again. This time it was to look at the old limestone mines. While most of us prefer the open air, there are amongst us some would-be spelunkers. The sensible stayed in the open while Peter, Davie Mc and Jimmy made differing depths of exploration into the old mines. Ten minutes we waited for the troglodytes to re-emerge from the underworld. Ten minutes was long enough and the trio emerged unscathed by their adventure. The lime kilns were to be examined next but not too closely this time for it was only a short climb from here to the top of our road and some wanted to get this done quickly. Now we had the open hill to tackle.

That’s where the first and only schism of the day occurred. There was a gate onto the hill and Jimmy suggested we go through and slope diagonally for a wooden gate in a fence. But some were for carrying on along the road for a few hundred yards before tackling the hill. So a splinter group consisting of the mine explorers struck off on their own to take the short climb to the top. The two groups came together as the top of the hill was approaching and we reached trig point marking the summit more or less as one group.

And what a view greeted us at the trig point, a three hundred and sixty degree view. The sun shone brightly on Tinto to the north-east but not so on Cairn Table in the north, nor on Blacksidend above Sorn. The day was turning brighter yet Arran was still hidden in a damp haze. To the west were the high Galloways with Merrick standing clear and was that one of Andy Goldworthy’s ‘Striding Arches’ on the hill to the south over Nithsdale? Upper Nithsdale was spread out below us with Kirkconnel appearing close and the Lowther and Durisdeer hills forming the backdrop. Below us the River Nith wound and meandered its way between flooded fields and once again we were happy that we chose to ignore this route. The only thing spoiling this idyllic vista was the opencast mine just below the hill, the opencast that destroyed the green road running from behind our hill down into Nithsdale. We were pleased enough with the rest of the prospect though.

But now it was time to leave the top. But which way? The consensus was to drop steeply to Corsencon Farm and follow the minor road that was supposed to be our route up. We came down that slope in a straggling band the individual positioning in which depending on stiffness of old knees. At the roadside though, there was a microwave antenna with its attendant servicing and it was on the concrete steps of this that the quick descenders stopped to have a bite and wait for the infirm.

Now it was a matter of following tarmac to the Mansfield road and back to New Cumnock. This seemed to be done in double quick time and we arrived in the village around one-thirty. This was an earlier finish than expected but, despite its shortness, a this was a decent walk and a new one for most of us.

We returned to Cumnock for FRT in The Sun.