"water off a duck's back http://t.co/ZNbi1yVm" - 3 hours ago
"Distracted in East Hampton Starbucks - Besides me, two women draped in beige designer layered outfits, have... http://t.co/vGg5uYOr" - 9 hours ago
"On a(nother) rainy morning in East Hampton, I turn to Adam Curtis http://t.co/Yk5enb86" - 10 hours ago
I??m afraid it??s true. Michael and I are only human. Well I am anyway, jury??s still out on y??er man. Though we??d like to be shining beacons of enthusiasm to you, dear friends, every day...sometimes it??s just not possible. Or even appropriate. This journey you see can be challenging. It might be a tumbling of rain from the skies; a quarrel over something petty; bad news about our solvency; doubts about our ability to Succeed; negative feedback from a Doubting Thomas; or any combination of downward pulling factors. Or, even, just an ??off? day. 99 times out of a hundred life on The Road is frighteningly good, and our spirits soar high. That other lone per cent though is just as much part of the journey as any other ?? and we??d be naïve to ignore it.
No apocalypse, don??t worry. Just reflections on a day where I??d perhaps rather not have been half of puregolf2010. In this instance, no trigger event to point to either. J D Patton on Day 306 was just flat as a pancake; to those who shared the day with me, then, please forgive me.
Our new friend Phil Adcock who has so handsomely look after us in north Leeds teed up a visit to Moortown: site of the first Ryder Cup on English soil in 1929. A Dr. Alistair MacKenzie layout, no less. Or so the story goes. Peter Rishworth is the Secretary at Moortown, and what a good natured Yorkshireman he is too (Peter if you??re not from Yorkshire please forgive my ears ?? must be all the music I bounce off my ear drums with terrifying regularity and intensity). He explained to us a bit about the history of the club and that Dr. MacKenzie laid down next door Alwoodley ??as practice for his real masterpiece.? Who am I to question such an assertion?
Well over the subsequent few hours I found myself doing just that. Try as I might, I just couldn??t ??get? Moortown. Where the other MacKenzie courses we??ve played ?? The Alwoodley very much included ?? have Atmosphere at every turn, Moortown was...different. I??m no course reviewer by any stretch of the imagination, but can only talk to my experience. The dodgy weather didn??t so much bother me (well used to that by now, and having grown up in bonnie Scotland). Nor was the hospitality anything short of marvellous (Peter upon taking his leave organised bacon butties and coffee for us, to line the stomachs). The company too was grand ?? Phil and his pal Alex being perfect gentlemen and not short of a pearl of banter. But every dog has his (off) day. And this day was mine.
Later in the evening we caught up with a tremendous South African lad by the name of Cameron Roy, whom we??ve been in contact with throughout the year. He??s a huge great strapping lad that came across here to play cricket; and who married an Irish girl (lucky sod) and got stuck. Despite having two young nippers he made the time to come and meet us for a beer in central Leeds at none other than the Neon Cactus. Sounds like time is very precious hwen there are little ??uns about... Cam had jacked up our happy visit to the Alwoodley yesterday, along with a couple of media slots. It was nice then to get the chance to thank him in person and put a face to the name (so many people we come across this year are just the name on their email address until we actually meet them in the flesh...). In my next life I think I??d like to be a South African ?? love the accent...
Ganton tomorrow...should be a blinder...
JP
A quick video blog from our day at Bingley St Ives Golf Club on day 308 of puregolf2010. The last Mackenzie course on our UK leg. We're nearly up to date with our blogs, with just Moortown & Ganton left to catch up on and then we're almost up to date in time for our departure to Dubai. For now, it is early to bed in Fife. I think judging by the bite in the air outside, the morning will greet us with a blanket of frost covering the kingdom.
Yesterday I made a rookie error. I turned to Michael and said, "isn't it remarkable that we've not had a cold, wet, windy, miserable sod of a day throughout an English October?" The next day - today - we got all of the above. I knew my error as soon as I'd made it.
At Moortown today we got blown around, mildly soaked, and generally battered. This was entirely at odds yesterday with the mild and indeed pleasant weather we had yesterday at The Alwoodley, which not surprisingly endeared itself more to us - probably because of the conditions.
They held the Ryder Cup here back in '29 - a fact that's drawn to your attention as you enter the Moortown driveway in north Leeds. Nearby Lindrick and Ganton also held the Cup. At Moortown Great Britain won 7-5 over the US, the decisive match apparently being George Duncan's 10&8 win over one Walter Hagen. Walter incidentally is an honourary member of the club. I would've liked to have met Walter - reputedly one of the game's more colourful (and talented) characters.
Apres golf we were so famished that we each sank a plate of sausages, egg and chips the size of Greenland. Hit the spot nicely. Although it's probably not done Fat Goldy's waistline any good...
Few phonecalls to make to Aotearoa now - goodness gracious we'll be there in a few weeks! Kindly arrange for the sun to be shining by then please, my Kiwi friends. This precipitation is not sustainable...
JP
Dr Alistair Mackenzie was one of the 14 gentlemen who founded the Alwoodley Golf Club in 1907. Avid readers will be aware of our passion for Mackenzie courses having played a number of them this year (you can read about each by clicking on the Mackenzie 'tab' at the top of this blog post). Bart has put together his first ever slide show of the course - check it out and I'm sure he would love your feedback.
The Mackenzie Features for an Ideal Golf Course
Good morning from sunny Leeds where daylight saving has finished in England and it is now getting dark at 430pm.
JP and I have made it through to November - and we're about to head out for game number 305 straight!
As our year comes to a close we will be blogging live daily with many smaller and more up to the minute thoughts from life in the road. We have a manic few weeks ahead of us and will on the mac and sharing it as we go - we hope you'll enjoy the continual updates and hope there is a bit more interaction from our readers!
But for now we're about to have a festival of Dr Alistair Mackenzie golf - starting with his masterpiece the Alwoodly today and Moortown tomorrow. Lets hope the weather stays good. Until later today... M
Up next on the roster was Burnham & Berrow Golf Club on the South West Coast of England some 45 minutes South of what has been base camp at Bristol. After waking up to a few plumming dramas at the abode of JP??s cousin, Ross & Rachel??s house we headed south ?? to continue our loop around England, manager Bart (Doug) in tow, and met our hosts for the day, Euan Bremner & Richard Read.
These two lads are partners in a corporate law firm based out of Bristol and had taken the day out to entertain us. The connection was through our mate Zyg from up at Royal Aberdeen so this blogpost inadvertently gives me a chance to recall the now infamous stories of Zyg and his shanks on that picture perfect day at Balgownie that is forever stuck in my memory. That day Zyggie and SP entertained us like no other & after 12 hours at the club we had enough stories to fill a book ?? probably an R-rated book. So when Zyg jacked up his mate Euan (formerly from the old stomping ground at Aberdeen) to play with us we knew we were in for a fun day. Euan had made the connection with his workmate Richard who is a member at B&B and thus the plan was hatched.
We broke the ice over a coffee, a breakfast bap and a few stories, many involving Zyg and a place called Magaloof. These stories are not for public consumption.
After playing a few more local courses over the last week Burnham & Berrow was a real treat. A pure out-and-back links along the coastline and through the dunes. The turf was good and the greens pure. As JP would say, the stars were aligned.
We also had some local help at hand ?? in the form of Frank ?? a member who was once upon a time from NZ until he immigrated to these parts in 1956.
B&B is another course that has been blessed with the touch of Harry Colt, but also had input from Dr MacKenzie during the 20??s. One of the great professionals, James Taylor, also plied his trade here as a pro for 16 months before he went on to bigger and better things (namely winning 5 Open championships, designing a number of courses and being part of the great triumvirate). How is that for some name dropping?
It was a classic day out really. Four guys all playing some good golf, some average golf but generally talking the way around the golf course caring little about putts missed, shots shanked and balls lost. Don??t get me wrong there were some fine golfing moments such as Euans 320 yard drive on the par five 8th hole.. Actually I can??t go past his tee shot on the 7th?? You see, Euan had started his pre-shot routine ?? a serious pre-shot routine for a serious 19 handicap golfer. Yet Rick wanted to tell him the line to hit it between the bunkers on the left and the hazard right. This wasn??t an easy tee shot and definitely not one the prudent golfer would go at guns blazing with the driver. So Rick wandered up to point the direction, standing mere inches from Euans ball teed up between the pegs. ??You see, don??t go too far right? Rick said, ??as there is a ?. WHACK? ?. and with that Rick was interrupted by an almighty swing by Euan the swoosh of the club felt on his leg as the titanium driver barely missed Rick??s left leg. We all got the fright of our lives and looked up, laughter everywhere, only to be shocked to see the ball sailing straight down the middle to position A1. ??Don??t interrupt me in my pre-shot routine? chipped Euan, clearly stoked that impulsiveness had paid off for him on this occasion. The blighter won that hole knocking a sand wedge to a few feet to make a 4 net 3. But, despite Rick??s reliable swing leading him nowhere but straight all day, the match was going our way, match fitness and all prevailing for the kiwi boys who rarely get paired together but on this occasion dovetailed to perfection with 7 birdies spaced out across the round.
The back nine was always going to be more difficult as the wind was unrelentingly in our faces and any golfer knows you need to be on Top Form to come home with consistency in these conditions. Bogeys were made but the banter continued all the way to the clubhouse, where our resolution to stay off the beers was broken as we yarned over a pint.
Not having anywhere to stay Euan invited us back to Bristol. So much for continuing our journey south but it did make sense rather than all try and find something further down the coast at this late stage in the day. Actually Doug had been making some calls in his managerial role, but so far had lucked out (that is lucked out in NZ terminology?? eg unlucky, as opposed to in the US lingo). The decision to go back to Bristol also made great sense later that night when we were out in the pubs having a whale of a time with our man Euan. Although I think Rick was still on the side of the motorway trying to change his tyre!! He thought he had it fixed thanks to us stopping and puregolf2010 manager/ mechanic Doug putting the spare tyre on, but we??ve subsequently found out Doug made a balls up of that and Rick was there some time fixing it?.
Needless to say after a cracking night of banter with Euan we woke up the following day braced for a very long drive to Westwood Ho and feeling a little bit sorry for ourselves. But Burnham & Berrow ?? one of the best in England so far. Thanks lads for arranging this ?? thanks for making the connection Zyg and thanks Frank for showing us the ropes. This time, we??re finally out from Bristol ?? next stop Cornwall!
Folks you'll have to excuse me for the belated posting of this blog. But Ireland is just far too much fun. And it's getting the better of us. There, I said it. No use pretending. Far. Too. Much. Fun.
Lahinch was no different. In fact, dare I say it, Lahinch was a special special experience. It??s probably no secret by now that Michael and myself are big fans of a gentleman named Dr. Alistair MacKenzie. His courses are so cleverly designed so as to be playable by golfers of all shapes and sizes ?? the likes of Royal Melbourne, Cypress Point, Royal Adelaide and Pasatiempo are among the creations of his that we??ve been fortunate enough to play this year. Lahinch is the emerald in his crown.
It was Old Tom Morris, to be sure, that was brought in first to recommend alterations to the original course laid down by The Merchant Princes of Limerick (with the help of the Black Watch Regiment, who were in town at the time). The first game of golf was played on 15 April 1892; Old Tam was then brought over in 1894 by Alexander Shaw, the brains of the operation. Apparently the old boy was deeply impressed by the natural terrain and sandhills. In fact, it??s reported that Old Tam believed the course would be on a par with the five great links courses of the UK, once his changes were implemented; the finest natural course he??d ever seen. Now a lot is said to have been said by famous golfers about golf courses over the years ?? you never have to go far to see a quote from Jack Nicklaus, Ben Hogan or Tom Watson on a strokesaver, proclaiming this is ??their favourite hole in [insert country]? ?? but I can believe it. Lahinch is quite something.
Indeed it became known as the ??St Andrews of Ireland? ?? probably because of the Old Tom Morris connection and the similar atmosphere of the village. By September 1926 the Committee had got wind of Dr. MacKenzie??s growing pedigree, and so invited him across to recommend alterations to the course. He agreed. By 1928 his wand had been waved, and Lahinch was now a McKenzie course. Hooray! If you??re wondering how I know all of this ?? by the way ?? it??s because we were each given a fascinating book on the club??s history ??A Century of Golf at Lahinch: 1892 ?? 1992?. Not to mention we had a cracking lunch in the clubhouse with a past captain who was only too happy to share a few tidbits about the club??s rich history. Lahinch is a place that you can??t help but want to know more about.
It??s also a huge amount of fun to play, which really is the main thing. On a benign Friday morning we had the privilege of doing just that ?? on this occasion, with a new friend of ours, a chap by the name of Connor Shields. Great lad that he is. Connor had taken the day off work to join us on the tee at 7.30am. Not only that, but Friday was the day after his birthday, and the 14th anniversary of his wedding! His wife??s obviously an understanding lady indeed (who was at work anyway, and don??t worry folks he whisked her off to somewhere fancy for the night after he left us).
When we left our plush pad at Doonbeg it was dark, and the rain was tumbling down as it tends to do over here. Tumbling. ??Feck? I exclaimed ?? which as you know is not a real swear word and so can be used in the blog without fear of adverse comment. Imagine our delight and surprise then when the clouds turned whiter as we approached Lahinch, the bonnie wee village that we??d passed through the day prior en route to Doonbeg. As if by the command of Moses himself, the rain stopped. The clouds parted. Well, almost anyway. And there was Connor getting kitted up in the carpark, ready for action. Super.
Even at the anti-social hour of 7.15am there was a crowd starting to gather around the 1st tee. These folks like their golf around here, and well they should. Wouldn??t want to be late for your tee time... Anyway we got away without fireworks and found ourselves pacing up the 1st fairway with a butterfly like sense of anticipation. Yes, we were playing a MacKenzie course. Someone asked me the other day what type of course I would play for the rest of my life if for some unnatural reason I was restricted to playing one type. Now, the question is an elastic one. But nonetheless I responded quickly and without hesitation: I would play MacKenzie courses. What say you friends? Links? Parkland? Par 72s? 12 holers? Take your pick.
An opening bogey on a seemingly innocuous hole reminded me that The Good Doctor??s courses ankle tap you if you??re not careful. So I took matters into my own hands and hit driver, 3 wood to 8 feet on the par 5 2nd, to exact my revenge. Then missed, unfortunately ?? could??ve been a good few bob for The First Tee but for my omnipresent ineptitude. The hole however was one to be marvelled at. From the tee you look back past the clubhouse (on the left) to the village behind. Lahinch sits there looking quaintly Irish, the waves crashing against its sea wall like an impetuous dog grabbing the leg of a disinterested master. MacKenzie??s signature bunkering style ?? aka rather fierce, and fierce looking ?? is there for all to see as you approach the green, some 5 or 6 of the rascals waiting to catch you out.
Holes like 4 and 5 have a Prestwick like quirk factor. Both demand that blind shots be hit over the famous ??Klondyke?, the 4th being a par 5 and the 5th being a par 3. The fairway on 4 is like a tunnel, which can gather tee shots towards the fairway ?? although you have to be long enough to ensure you can get it up over the Klondyke for your second blow. On 5 you??re told to fire 150 yards or so over a little white stone perched atop the dune; although the strokesaver actually said the stone creates an optical illusion, and the pin is in fact 5 yards left of where it appears to be. All very confusing, but a huge amount of fun. Poor Connor got a little too cute and ended up a couple of inches away from the stone itself, leaving a treacherous pitch down onto the green. It was hard not to laugh, but thankfully y??er man being a self-respecting Irishman has a good sense of humour.
A brief shower threatened to spoil the party as we marched to the 6th tee. The rain clouds in question were however blown away by our golf. Perhaps they thought we looked tormented enough? A gentleman by the name of Martin had come down to meet us while playing the 5th, at the request of a mutual friend. Just as I was waxing lyrical about the fantastic start to the course, Martin insisted that things were only just getting started. At the time I couldn??t believe he was speaking truth, but he was. Each hole is more fun than the next, it seems.
6 is a good par 4 playing down towards the sea that I??m sure could be treacherous ?? although if you get a good drive away you??ll only have about 140 down to the green, which is a wonderful example of MacKenzie??s work. 7 then is an up-then-down-then-up short-ish par 4 to a green that looks improbable you??ll manage to hold. Vicious bunker to the right of the dance floor caught Connor, who was quaking in his boots but nearly in the end managed to get up and down in a display of Seve magic. 8??s an uphill par 3 (Goldy was pleased after all the downhill par 3s he??s been complaining about playing in Ireland...) possessed of wonderful features, not least the greenside bunker on the left that is so steep and deep that it has steps to take you down into its depths. I always find steps are a bad sign when they lead to sand on a golf course. 9 then is a fun short par 4 with a 60 yard long green, so you need to pay attention to where the pin is for your wedge approach in.
What??s great about The Good Doctor??s courses is that ?? and I??ve said this before, so please excuse the repetition ?? under normal conditions, they??re very playable. Good shots get rewarded, bad ones punished. You don??t need to be hitting the ball a country mile to be making birdies and (unless the greens are shaved quick and the pins cut in awkward spots) putting??s generally a pleasurable ritual. In this case, it was a delight ?? Lahinch??s greenkeepers obviously know what they??re doing. Martin Hawtree ?? who has come in recently to make minor tweaks, and who has developed a reputation as being to MacKenzie courses what Rees Jones is to US Open courses ?? has dun good too. His new par 3, the 11th, is pure. It feels like a MacKenzie hole, which is a huge compliment.
Connor despite having played the course before was just as inspired as we were. The three of us were like kids at Christmas, beaming with enthusiasm and not wanting it to end. We all agreed Lahinch was a course you could play every day until you die and not get sick of. Not many courses fall into that category. A short par 4 will get your blood pumping and plant the seed of birdie in your mind (like the 13th), then a longer one will bring you back down to earth before a really long one ensures you??re not getting carried away with your own brilliance (like the 15th). It??s a veritable rollercoaster of mini-examinations.
Eugene the Club Captain and his contemporary whose name very frustratingly escapes me greeted us on the 18th green. The encounter was a very easy one as we had so many nice things to say, that we wanted to say. We were taken into the clubhouse and fed like Kings, not to mention entertained with stories about the club and its impressive history I was alluding to before. Lahinch is a golf lover??s club and one with a proud record of hosting the South of Ireland which, I??m told, is a big deal. Quite simply, it??s class. In an unpretentious way, thank God. I??m bursting with superlatives but will spare you the monotony of having to read them all.
One of the best, no doubt.
JP
What a way to bring our 45 day Scottish leg to a close. It??s fair to say we??re leaving this bonnie land on a high note, after a tremendous 36 hours at Turnberry: the jewel in the crown of the gorgeous Ayrshire coast, and site of four Open Championships. Mike??s already told you about yesterday??s fun and games on the Kintyre course, a superb ??little brother? track. He??ll also have mentioned that last night our accommodation options were slim pickings; that we were odds on to be kipping in The Tank. That was until Graeme Russell ?? chief, champ, boss, captain, skipper that he is; Macallan Whisky??s ambassador to the US ?? played Fairy God Mother and spotted us a room at The Turnberry Hotel on his points! You wouldn??t read about it. I??ve already thanked Graeme privately (several times), but would like to do so publicly now too: as our caddy Ray at Cypress would say, ??you??re the greatest.?
A momentary blip in the fairytale though: I awoke this morning with my first illness of the year (worry not, my friends ?? just a common cold). Standing outside in minus 6 degrees last night having a quick chat with Radio New Zealand I joked with the producer that I??d catch a cold. Then I did just that. There??s a lesson in there for all of us. Maybe even a couple.
But a mucus clogged sinus passage couldn??t dampen my spirits when I opened the curtains to find that the bright sunshine we were treated to yesterday hadn??t yet packed it in. That big ball of gas was out in spades. Yesssssssssssssssssssssssssss! With a spring in my step I hopped into the shower (read: emptied 6 pints of snot down the plug hole) and went in search of some appropriate golfing attire. Sadly my respectable golf breeks were in the car, so I was forced to don the Argyll Loudmouths (which I would inevitably get a hard time about in these parts). Sick and looking a tad stupid; but who gives two shakes when you??re about to play one of the best courses in the world. On a bluebird Thursday morning, no less.
The commute from the Hotel carpark to the club carpark is a very short one. Roughly 36 seconds if you don??t run into any traffic. Downhill too. Had we not been lazy Gen-Y??rs we might??ve even walked! (But that would??ve left an unpalatable walk back up the hill ?? a solid justification to my mind). In any case we ran into our host ?? Alan Stevenson (whose father played in several Open Championships) ?? on the tarmac and were soon introduced to his pal John, host #2. John like me likes cardigans and is all the more a man for it. They??re both locals and quality humans in their own right. Sharp banter exchanged between the two was evocative of the Laurel-&-Hardy-like Alan Melville & Mike Macdonald, our hosts at North Berwick & Gullane. I must confess I wondered whether we??d be able to hold our own.
There was no mucking around with coffee or cocktails or kummel or anything of the like; straight to business. With an 0820 tee time we were ahead of the pack ?? alleviating any concerns of being held up behind a fourball of 29 handicap tourists (each lining up every putt as if it was for The Open, of course). PERFECT. Peter McCoy the Starter provided yardage books and light amusement, including a cracking story about Juan Quirros, whom his son had been caddying for recently on the Senior??s Tour. Juan??s apparently a hothead and on this occasion lost the plot. The nearest object towards which he could direct his anger was a sponsor??s billboard. After chucking his club in disgust Juan gave it a good boot; only problem was a lassie was leaning over it at the time, munching on her lunch. In the melee the sandwich got splattered all over her face, poor thing. Juan either didn??t notice or care to notice, so Peter??s son went over to apologise on his behalf. As unfortunate as it would no doubt have been for the young woman, I can??t help but think it would??ve been hilarious to be a fly on the wall. Anyway. Turnberry.
The 1st hole plays parallel to the road, perpendicular with the view from the omnipresent Hotel above. ??Ailsa Craig? it??s called, after the big (I can only assume volcanic) chunk of rock sticking up out of the deep blue Firth of Clyde. A dawdle at 354 yards you might think, but there are 9 bunkers ?? setting the tone for the morning. And the pin was at the front, which made it difficult to get near down wind. I tried not to smile when I saw my opponent??s ball had come to rest deep in a divot in the middle of the fairway (one of the peril??s of the heavy traffic the course gets over the summer). Whether I succeeded or not, who knows? You know what they say though: every golf shot makes someone happy. To Mick??s credit he got it down there, there or thereabouts, and made a 4 which was good enough for the half.
Loved the name of the 2nd: ??Make Sure.? Make sure what?? The yardage book pearl of wisdom offered a clue: ??Poor shots will be punished with trouble lurking in almost every direction.? The Scots don??t beat around the bush do they? It continued: ??Strategically placed fairway bunkers and a steep slope to the left of the fairway and green are just a few of the problems facing players. The green is deceptively long and will require careful club selection to avoid leaving a long, difficult putt.? Don??t sugar coat it boys!
Those forking out 110 squid for a game would get their money??s worth out of the dry humour of the yardage book alone. Rather than make the golf course look and sound easy ?? as is conventional in amateur golf and sports psychology generally, I imagine ?? they??ve gone out of their way to do the opposite. The fairways on the pictures look like pieces of string. Thin ones at that. ??Woe-be-tide?, the 4th, is aptly described as ??a light hearted warning to be aware of the Firth of Clyde and other possible hazards on the left of the hole.? Ha. It??s a glorious short hole in any case; the first of the Ailsa??s coveted set. The contours of the green and the dune to the right of it encourage you to bring the ball in from right to left, especially given the aforementioned drop off to the left is severe. However. Y??er man cut a nasty looking bunker into the front right of the mound upon which the green is perched. So you better dam well hit that draw out of the middle of the club (or end up in Purgatory as Michael did).
Speaking of y??er man. Life would be much simpler if the Ailsa Course had been designed many moons ago and not been touched since. But that??s not how things went friends. A brief history lesson:
In 1900 the Marquess of Ailsa (a keen golfer and former Captain at our beloved Prestwick) decided to build a course on his estate at Turnberry. So he commissioned Willie Fernie, the then pro at Royal Troon, to do the design. It opened in 1901, Turnberry GC subsequently forming the next year. Turnberry quickly became popular with the expansion of the railways and when word got around about the luxury of the Hotel. World War One then got in the way of everything as it had the tendency to do (the Hotel and courses being requisitioned as an officers?? mess & airfield respectively). When Zee Germans surrendered James Braid did a redesign of the Arran Course, following which it overtook the Ailsa as the course of choice. So Cecil Hutchinson God Bless Him was brought in to do a re-design (hooray!). But wait for it: the course re-opened in 1938, just a year before Hitler went mental and declared war on The World. Again Turnberry was requisitioned (who would have guessed?), this time as for RAF Coastal Command. The final chapter? MacKenzie Ross was brought in to do a(nother) redesign, creating ??the masterpiece that exists today.?
Now where was I? The 5th (??Fin me oot? - i.e. ??find me out? - i.e. find the putting surface or give up). One of the best par 4s of the year. Graeme had warned us about it last night and The Boy wasn??t wrong. Take a breath and enjoy the moment sorta stuff. (In a cockney accent I ask of you) d??ya know what I mean? Perfectly formed but no less nasty for it greenside pot bunkers await unsuspecting 2nd (or even 3rd) shots, as does a coffin bunker to the right of the green ?? which I carelessly allowed myself to get stuck behind. The real treat came when we stood on the next tee and looked back at what had just come before us. Check it.
Turnberry??s the sort of place where you just look around in reverence and wonder how you managed to find yourself there despite your abundant lack of recent prayer (by recent I mean in the past decade). It??s tempting to swear to impress upon you just how moved I was by its beauty, but that would betray a linguistic laziness on my behalf. How should I say...soul nourishingly stunning? Whatever. I??ll let the photos do the talking.
What this photo of the 6th won??t capture, however, is just how bloody difficult it was. ??Tappie Toorie? is all of 230 yards over a ravine to a raised green DEAD INTO THE WIND. Oh, and there??s a bunker carved into the face of the sharp rise guarding the entrance to the green that would make Hell Bunker at St. Andrews look like a toddler??s sand pit. Poor John had an intimate encounter with the (unnamed) hole of death (which I took it upon myself to decree as ??That Bastard Bunker On The 6th?); and the...bunker...won. Convincingly. I must??ve been so pleased with myself at having killed a 3 wood onto the front edge that I lost the plot and 3 jacked from 40 feet straight up the hill to lose the hole. ??Oh dear? I exclaimed.
Between the dry wit inherent in the hole descriptions penned in my yardage book; the incrementally ascending difficulty of each hole; and the bitterly fresh wind that was growing in strength by the second, I was starting to see the funny side of all of this. A string of opening pars and I??d had the naivety to at least consider that maybe Turnberry wasn??t so hard after all. Then reality found me wherever I??d been hiding as we stood on the 7th tee. Why? Because ??Roon the ben??? is 500 yards of par 4 (stroke index 1 of course) into that dastardly wind. To a green that slopes hard from right to left and that??s guarded by two little sods at the front right entrance. If you make a 4 in these conditions then you should give up as that??s as good as your golf will EVER get. I guarantee you that. What fun though, pitting yourself against a Leviathan like the 7th.
At this point my good partner Alan and I found our way back to where we should have been: namely, with our noses in front. Just finding our stride we were. Just as we were getting within clear sight of That Lighthouse, the sight most people come here to see. Why lighthouses on golf courses are so intriguing I don??t know. But they are. While at The National Golf Links of America I remember second guessing myself as to why there was any merit in taking so many snaps of that red and white construction on the hill. I did the same today. Why? The angles you take photos of holes or humans would have to be adjusted to as to incorporate the lighthouse in the background. For the avoidance of doubt that one was at Turnberry. Perhaps I??m simple minded.
In Any Case. ??Goat Fell? the wonderfully named 8th hole is a mouth watering long-ish par 4 (432 yards for anyone who cares) that takes you right out near the rocks. From the green I gazed starry eyed at the beach below and the coastline stretching for miles behind it. And at the lighthouse ahead, of course. For goodness sake I??m only human. Mick and I scuttled off with a couple of 4s pleased to find the next tee unscathed. Goat Fell by the way is the name of the tallest peak directly across the water on Arran. Why it was called Goat Fell I have no idea. Use y??er imagination folks.
9 may have one of the most photographed (championship) tees in world golf. You march back down a rocky outcrop to a meticulously mown square of lawn which seems to float above the Firth of Clyde. On a day like today the scene is almost one you??d find in those golf calendars of imaginary holes that you can??t quite believe would exist. 360 degree views of splendour. Looking at the golf hole in front (we didn??t play from the championship tees because 1. You??re not allowed to; and 2. The wind was blowing and the hole was hard enough) you begin to understand why pros like Tiger Woods go off the rails. If I had to make a living teeing off across mischief like that I??d be driven to abnormal behaviour I have no doubt. A cairn is optimistically placed in the middle of the fairway, giving the player an ??ideal? line over which to tonk the ball. I found the cairn to be as optimistic as goal setting during your early years of high school (??When I grow up I want to: 1. Become a millionaire; 2. Find creative ways to spend my millions; 3. Marry a Victoria??s Secret supermodel; 4. Play off scratch consistently and with consummate ease; 5. Become a respected and cherished member of the local community; and 6. Always remain in my mother??s good books, etc etc).
In very un-Scots like fashion we paused for coffee after 9. By now the breeze was getting rather fresh, so the shelter of the half way house had a more settling effect than we might have thought. It??s like a wee standalone conservatory, with 180 degree views of The Firth of Clyde and That Lighthouse. With a coffee in hand and a good bit of craic it??s a tough spot to beat. Unpretentious but perfectly adequate.
Although our party could quite happily have camped out for a good hour or two, the aptly named 10th hole beckoned. ??Dinna fouter? translates to Don??t Mess About. ??The Firth of Clyde awaits players who hit their tee shots too far left and, if that??s not enough, EVEN MORE TROUBLE AWAITS PLAYERS IN THE MIDDLE OF THE FAIRWAY, in the shape of two pot bunkers and a further bunker on the right hand side of the fairway...? Over coffee I??d forgotten entirely what entertainment might await me in my strokesaver readings on the back side. As it happened I didnae fouter, instead choosing to chip in from the deep stuff left of the green for my opening birdie of the day (one of two ?? both of which came from off the green!). The opposition were spewing. Good riddance.
The views back up to the 9th and beyond from the 10th, and along the 11th, are something rather special. The deep blue sea hypnotises you like the Pied Piper did to those rats. Contrast the fresh white paint of the lighthouse and you have a postcard scene and a half. The caption might read: ??Stay away from Scotland: all the trouble is in the middle of the fairway...?
13 is a glorious sweeping dogleg right with 3 left side fairway bunkers and a huge plateau green. With the wind hurling off the left; gorse along the right; and that trio of bunkers guarding the dogleg, it??s an improbable proposition that you??ll smash one down the middle. But you must. And don??t be shy with your approach either, because that upslope rising up to the putting surface won??t think twice about spitting your ball back down to the fairway below, leaving a tricky up and down. In all honesty I was just trying to get the ball near the hole but unfortunately it went in for a second lucky birdie in 4 holes. John by this stage was very animated, and even began to call me unkind names. Which I won??t repeat.
On the 14th you??re told to ??Risk-an-hope.? We all did just that and it didn??t work for any of us. The pot bunkers on the ??Ca Canny? 15th ?? a par 3 playing short with the wind behind ?? were gruesome, particularly the one over the back. John as he was prone to doing picked another fight with one, and was again forced to accept Second Prize. Luckily he has a good sense of humour (although by this point it was no doubt running thin).
Many photos must??ve been taken over the years of ??Wee Burn?, the 16th, particularly around the green complex. It??s a gorgeous ??little hole? (at 455 yards...) that plays shorter than it sounds, but is no less difficult for it. Not a time to thin a 9 iron Jamie...into the burn... Michael hit a smashing drive down the right as he was instructed to, then made a very good par indeed after coming perilously close to finding a watery grave over the back right of the green. It??s no ??Wee? burn let me tell you.
Perhaps the most evil little bunker we??ve encountered all year is positioned sadistically just off the fairway ?? into the face of a rise ?? on the par 5 17th, ??Lang Whang.? When the wind??s behind us as it was, assuming you get a decent drive away the little codger shouldn??t come into play. It??s 88 yards of the green, which you can hit with a driver and a 9 iron if you play your cards right. However. In less favourable conditions this thing could give you nightmares for life. I wouldn??t wish an adventure in there on my worst enemy, unless he deserved it.
Many of you will remember The Duel in The Sun, the showdown between Watson and Nicklaus at the 1977 Open Championship at Turnberry. Well the 18th??s name has since been changed in reverence to ??what is regarded by many as the finest Major Championship ever played.? A nice touch. By the time we were coming in it was becoming a Duel in The Wind, and a nailbiting one at that. After having been up for most of the match, Alan and I somehow found ourselves dormy 1 down after 17, courtesy of a characteristic Goldstein par 5 birdie. So we needed some magic. I??d positioned myself menacingly just off the front edge with a Texas Wedge at the ready (angling for my 3rd off-the-surface birdie to pull equal). Goldy knocked it relatively close. And John appeared to be in no man??s land way back left somewhere. Alan was gone. Then John much to my dismay pitched in, the rascal! After he??d been giving me so much jip for it too... A lovely moment to finish a well fought battle. Credit where credit it due: the heathens combined well and probably deserved their victory in the end. There, I said it.
No sooner had we finished than we found ourselves in the bar with an American size bowl of chips in front of us. The clubhouse by now was buzzing as big groups were readying themselves for their day of reckoning. We inhaled the chips then realised it was time to get back up the hill to check out. And check out of Scotland altogether. Stranraer was our last port of call on what has been an incredible 45 days here in this bonnie land, my homeland. It??s no St. Tropez, believe me, but it softens the blow by making the next destination ?? Belfast ?? all the more enticing.
Before I knew it we were out on deck on the Stena Line ferry, pulling into Belfast Lough. The old Harland & Wolf cranes ?? David & Goliath ?? looked to have had a paint job since I last saw them a decade ago. Sadly the ferry doesn??t take you all the way past them anymore as it used to. Och it??s still a lovely introduction to Nor??n Ireland though, which??ll be our adopted home for the next week. It??s the land of my fathers too. Slainte.
JP
After a great nights sleep in the highland tourist town of Braemar we took to the roads to make it to Blairgowrie where a 1042am tee time on the Alister Mackenzie designed Rosemount course awaited us.
After scooting through the highland roads in the merc, through a couple of Scottish ski areas such as Glenshee and Cairngorm we emerged in Blairgowrie a township situated in the northern part of the Perthshire district.
Greeting us was the familiar face of Marc Gentles ?? our pal from St Andrews, and his colleague who also keeps occupied by keeping the Old Course in tip top shape - Gavin. After a steady steam of rain all morning, the skies lightened some time between going in to change my shoes in the locker room and making it to the first tee. Perfect.
The first hole was a rude awakening. After playing a couple of short tracks yesterday our ??warm up?? hole was a 438 yard dog leg left to a green surrounded by bunkers. No time to loosen up and definitely no practice balls but we??re used to that now in Scotland. The second hole said ??welcome to a MacKenzie course??. If the brown sand was turned a shade of white and the heather around the bunker edges turned into fescue, we could have been back at the Meadow Club on day 131? Although even compared to San Francisco (the worst winter I ever had was that summer in San Francisco?) the temperature was cool and the jerseys were firmly still on.
The haggle? Gents and I against the pretenders. Gents, coming off a 65 at the new course last week (read: this boy should stop messing around and become a pro golfer as he sure can play) was always going to be the trump card so when the balls came down I was safe in the knowledge that my partner had strong shoulders need I be carried for a few holes...
The course reeked Mackenzie. Most of the holes had widish fairways with half the bunkers guiding the way and the other half acting mainly as a visual deterrent. If I got a pound for every time someone said one of the cross bunkers that were often 30-40 yards short of the green ma de the hole look deceptively short, I would have left the course a rich man. A few of the green complexes reminded us of Pasatiempo ?? for me the par three 17th sat back up at the tee almost like the famous 16th green at Pasatiempo. The only issue was that the greens were rolling at about a 7 on the stint meter and therefore did not play as A. Mac. probably would have liked ?? navigating the slopes on and around the greens required far less skill to conquer than they ordinarily would.
Some excitement happened early in the round after a string of a few pars had Gents and I out of the box running. From about 100 yards out on the par five 5th hole, after pitching out of the heather, I managed to hole out with my trusty gap wedge and thereby break my Scotland Eagle Drought. Finally! It??s a crazy game ?? I??ve had all kinds of putts for eagle over the last month and missed them all but then this! 30 pounds for The First Tee (10 from each of our donors ?? we??re currently looking for donors to take part in the Irish Birdie Challenge starting at Royal Belfast on 27 August!!!).
Another unusual feature of MacKenzie courses that popped up at Rosemount is back to back par fives ?? here on holes 10 and 11. Back to back long holes is a great way to make or break your round particularly when each hole weaves through the trees and heather meaning that there is a premium placed on hitting the fairway. Gents ate up the par fives hitting short irons into many of them and if he could putt would have been about 6 under through the stretch of four of them between the 5th and 14th holes.
Another cool hole followed the set of par fives ?? the 290 yard par four 12th. MacKenzie at his best with bunkering everywhere and a huge element of risk reward if you try to drive the green. Gents went with the reward option missing his 4th eagle putt of the round whilst JP and I went for the ??risk?? option and managed to scrap out pars from all kinds of places you??re not supposed to visit.
Turning for the last four we were warned by the local lads that we were in for a treat of a finish. I was hoping they wouldn??t be too difficult as after choking yesterday on going under par I was hoping to crack the nut again today by coming in with a birdie and a few pars. The 15th didn??t disappoint - a short wedge to a tiered green sunk below a front bunker that blocked out the bottom of the pin and thus impacted our perception of distance. We all flew it over the pin but Gavin and I were lucky enough to sneak our putts in ?? to half the first hole of the double or quits match (the main affair had been completed courtesy of another of Gents two putt birdies on the par five 14th).
16 was another gem of a par five snaking around a bonnie loch to a bowl green some 470 yards away. It??s really probably a par four-and-a-half (like many of the par fives here). 17 again has a spectacular green and then 18 snakes down to the right although I missed that completely after playing down the first fairway?. Missing it big is key. A putt for -1 on the last hole lipped out and so for a second day it wasn??t to be. Gents on the other hand bottled a three footer to miss out on an under par round, but it was some display of golf after his horrendous start had him 4 over through 4.
As we finished out on the last and went in for a shower the rain begun. Wet rain. People were fleeing the course and it looked unpleasant. Again, it was perfect timing as we sat in the pristine clubhouse and had a spot of lunch before our drive through to Dundee in the afternoon. Carnoustie tomorrow ?? better get a good nights sleep!
There are days in life when the Gods really smile on you; when you can??t quite believe that you??re in the moment you??re in, just how lucky you really are. Today was one of those days. The first thing I want to say is a heartfelt thank you to Craig, the gentleman who kindly hosted us as his guests at Cypress Point ?? one of the most phenomenal places on earth. I hope some day I??m in a position to make possible experiences for other people like Craig did for us on 18 May 2010. Really we owe him a huge debt of gratitude.
The second thing I want to say, before I launch into a gushing rant about this hallowed parcel of golfing paradise, is another thank you ?? this time to a man whom we??ve known for even less time than we have known Craig. I mentioned Liam Doust in Monday??s blog; he??s the gentleman who contacted us out of the blue a few days ago, after reading about us in the SF Chronicle, offering his hospitality. Well on this fine morning Liam rose at the crack of dawn with us, cooked us an amazing ??you??re-about-to-play-the-best-golf-course-on-earth? omlette, brewed us a strong coffee and gave us directions to the course. When we returned in the early evening, Liam took us down to The Beach Club (a private club he belongs to that sits adjacent to the 17th at Pebble) for a beer, swim, spa and shower (we also had a dip in the Pacific, on a strip of beach between the 4th and the 17th holes...more about that later). Then he cooked us up a barbeque dinner at his home and shared with us a beautiful bottle of pinot noir that his family vineyard ?? in the Awatere Valley of New Zealand ?? produces (Doust-Cimino). Truly some of the most amazing hospitality I??ve ever received ?? again, from a guy we??ve known for a couple of days. Liam, thanks again ?? hopefully we can repay your hospitality next time you??re down under.
And so to Cypress Point, ranked #2 in the world by Golf Digest. Mike??s put together a video blog of the day, which will tell a better story than a few hurried words of mine can. The atmosphere and beauty of the place can??t be captured by my modest vocabulary, or even by our pretty flash camera. But we??ll do our best to paint y??all a wee picture. (When we get ??round to writing a book after we complete this journey we??re on, I expect 18 May will have a whole chapter devoted to it; this is the abridged ??on the run in the back of a car en route to LA? version).
We head to Cypress along 17 Mile Drive via Pebble Beach, where we grab a couple hundred bucks out of an ATM for the compulsory caddy fees (c. $70-$100 each). We??re running on time, but only just. It??s a misty morning but the sun??s trying to break through. The past few days have been freezing cold and foggy; we??re praying those clouds lift. As we pull into the car park, they do (well, not at that very minute ?? I??m not suggesting clouds part for us...but you get the picture, things started looking up).
Forgive me for stating the obvious, but we??re pulling into the very small car park ?? right in front of the starter??s hut, putting green and clubhouse ?? in Dodgy, our 1988 Dodge Ram Family Wagon. There aren??t any other cars like ours in sight ?? just a few Mercs, BMWs, and the odd Toyota. Maybe not a grand entrance, but an entrance all the same. Dodgy is parked smack back in front of the clubhouse. We??re worried that if we step out of the car a gentleman will appear out of nowhere and politely suggest that we??re in the wrong place; that we should turn around. He doesn??t appear, and we reach the starter??s hut unscathed. So far, so good.
Our pal Robert Kaufman??s in there, with his buddy Steve who would join us on the day. Robert??s been playing pranks on Steve for years, telling him he??s got them a game at Cypress. Very cruel. When Robert called a week or two ago to let him know about today, Steve doesn??t believe him...you know, the boy who cried wolf and all. But here they both were, just as excited as we were. This place??ll do that to you. The other non-members ?? who are all members?? guests; you can??t just turn up and play here ?? are in the same boat; smiles all round.
Keith and Riley in the pro shop are incredibly relaxed and welcoming, and put us instantly at ease. Once you??re here, you??re treated like royalty ?? whether you??re a CEO of the Bank of America or a janitor from Oakland. I like that. With half an hour until our tee time, we take our time to change our shoes in the locker room; grab a few cards, ball markers, pencils, etc; and have a putt or two before we get started.
From the hustle and bustle of the caddy squadron camped by the starter??s hut emerges Ray, who would ??double bag? for Michael and me today. Ray is an amazing chap; I could write a whole blog just about the man himself. Anyway he??s been caddying at Cypress for 33 years (some have been there for 50+), so knew exactly how we were feeling, and importantly what to do to put us at ease. Namely, make a lot of jokes. He was hilarious, from start to finish. Not to mention a dam fine caddy, on the golfing front. Granted he??s the first caddy I??ve ever had, but I can??t imagine they could get any better. Just a true gentleman, and a barrel of laughs. It??s not overstating the case to say he lifted a special experience up a notch or two, to a once-in-a-lifetime one.
When the time comes, Mike steps onto the blue tees and takes counsel from Ray on what on earth he should do. The mist is still hanging low, but the sun??s doing its best to burst through ?? creating a luminescent, almost blinding glow, straight ahead down the 1st. Over the Cypress tree on the right, or just inside it, are the instructions. Mike blocks one O.B. and takes the permitted mulligan (it??s tradition here to have a mulligan on 1 if you need it) and flushes it 280 yards down the middle. I take aim then hook one onto the 14th fairway; take my mulligan but hook it less severely into the trees; and end up taking the first ball from the wrong fairway. Playing the courses we??re playing we don??t have the nerves problems your Average Joe gets when he tees off 1 at a good track ?? but today was a different story; we could hardly hold onto the club we were so wired!
The first few holes are a bit of a blur. At that time we??re trying to absorb the experience; get a feel for the course; and play some decent golf. Mike succeeds and is 2 under par after 5 holes (including a couple of lip out birdie putts that could??ve seen him 4 under thru 5 on another day!); I make up the numbers but am having a whale of a time with Ray & co. Robert and Steve are getting to know their caddy ?? Louis, who??s been at Cypress a month longer than Ray ?? and doing their best to hit the ball properly. But as I said, a blur.
After number 1, 2 thru 7 snake up and down through the forest before you see the Pacific again. They??re all great holes, but 4 is a pretty remarkable one. From the tee you see a swathe of bunkers that frame a gentle double dogleg which climbs some 10 yards or so. But when you get to the green (hopefully in one piece, for two), you look back down the hole towards the ocean and can??t see one sand trip. MacKenzie at his best. Apparently the bunkers were used as camouflaged cover during the war ?? a story that I??m not sure whether to believe or shoot a wry smile at. It came from Ray so you never know.
Anyway 8 and 9 are some of the best holes I??ve ever played. On 8 you hit a blind tee shot over the dunes to a sunken fairway that climbs sharply upwards and right to the green. There was a lovely moment when Ray gave Michael his instructions from the tee, which went something like this: ??Now Tiger and Duval took it over that right hand tree, all the way to the green, from back here... But we??re gonna try a different line...? His comic timing would rival the late Tommy Cooper, so he had us all in stitches. To be fair the wind was puffing slightly in our faces, so the Tiger line was never on anyway. Ha!
Once you reach the fairway ?? which is sandwiched by white sandy scrub on both sides ?? you play a short iron or even a wedge up to a small bowl like green, from which you can look out over the rest of the course. Just a beautiful spot. I underclubbed; ended up just off the front edge; and had the ineptitude to take 5. Mike had 8 feet down the hill for birdie but missed low side. Never mind ?? a truly great golf hole.
On 9 you have a couple of options. At 289 yards gorillas can get there, but there are risks involved (of course). The lay up isn??t easy either, with said scrub on both sides, and a couple of waste bunkers in there too just to remind you that you??re at Cypress. The green seems only a few paces wide; is raised about 5 yards from the fairway; and runs at 45 degrees from south-east to north-west on my imaginary compass. At this moment the mist was still flirting with us, adding to the mystique of this magnificently designed wee number.
When we reached 12 Ray said, ??now the golf??s really about to start? - as if playing the first 11 holes at Cypress Point was somehow just a warm up hack in preparation for what was to come. Looking back I can see where he was coming from.
12 is (or was) Ben Hogan??s favourite hole. (You??ll see these all labelled in Goldy??s video segment, so I won??t bore you with details about every hole). 13??s a classic that??s pretty similar to 12 ?? a downhill short-ish par 4 that veers to the right (although each has a very different dynamic around the greens). Coming down 13 fairway you??re staring down the Pacific Ocean, and pinching yourself ??cos you know what??s about to confront you.
14 might just be one of my favourite holes in the world (it??s up there with 6 at Royal Melbourne West). By now you??re playing parallel with the rocks, and heading along the coast until the 18th tee. The fairway ahead is wide, but it??s all about angles, so you need to play your tee shot middle-left to open up the green up the hill. A couple of amazing old Cypress trees frame the gap; one of them has a branch that dives into the ground and emerges again as if it were a different tree. Mike ends up under a greenside Cypress labyrinth but manages to dig it out to 10 feet while I??m standing behind him filming with one hand and taking a pee with the other!
On the walk to 15 our hearts start to race a bit more. As Ray quips, ??the greatest walk in golf?. When you get round the corner and the infamous hole reveals itself, a 6 feet wide grin grips us each of us ?? and being in America, we all throw a few high 5s around. Ha. The camera, of course, gets a good work out, before we get down to business. I knock a wedge to 20 feet and Mike flies the green. Check out the photos on Mike??s segment...even with our inadequate photography efforts, they??ll blow you away.
16??s up there with 17 at Sawgrass and 17/18 at St. Andrews as being one of the most famous holes in the golf world. At 240 yards over the ocean to a green perched on a narrow isthmus ?? with drop offs on both sides, and on this occasion into the wind ?? it??s a monster. Between 15 green and 16 Ray points out an old ??hobo hut? in the forest ?? right on top of the rocks ?? that someone he knows used to live in for 6 months a long time ago. Modest it may have been, but the view when that chap woke up every morning couldn??t have been too bad. He also points out the members?? suggestion box: a rocky atoll about 800 yards from shore...
I need to hit my 3 wood right out of the screws, without draw or fade, if I??m going to get the ball up there. As fate would have it the ball draws off to the left ?? aided by the wind ?? and ends up on the beach of a little cove (where I find a few other balls too...). Mike??s 2 iron drifts left too, but catches the ice plant 10 yards from the green, leaving him a tricky hack out. Robert flushes a driver to the front of the green ?? pre-empting another few high 5s ?? but 3 putts disappointingly for 4. He won??t forget that drive in a hurry though. Steve drives it on there on his second attempt ?? a shot he won??t forget any time soon either. I should add that after my first attempt I had another two ?? neither of which were any more successful! Ne??er mind.
By now the adrenalin is really pumping, and we??re wishing the moment wouldn??t pass us by so quickly. But there are members behind, and holding them up on their course is like leaving the toilet seat up: you just don??t do it. 17 is just as good as the holes before it, but I??ll spare you the rant. 18 gets a lot of flack for being weak, but I liked it. When you climb up the fairway to the green and look to your left, the beautiful clubhouse is perched between a few trees and the 16th sits out there below you. An amazing place, truly. You can??t go in there unless you??re accompanied by a member, and have a jacket and tie. We weren??t and didn??t, so the hut was off limits ?? maybe a nice thing, to leave a little bit of mystery at Cypress, keeping us guessing.
On 18 I have 8 or 10 feet; my last chance to snatch a birdie, after having played and putted like a donkey all day. I miss. Mike makes a good up and down for par, and shoots a glorious 75 (3 over par). He lost 3 shots in the last 4 holes, and lipped out a bit on the front 9 ?? so you have some idea of how he played. Robert, Steve and I were on a different planet, but had an absolute ball nonetheless. Between the beauty of this land; Dr. MacKenzie??s brilliance; the company of my playing partners; and Ray??s banter, it was a few hours of absolute bliss I will never forget.
All good things must come to an end. Don??t worry, this blog will come to an end soon too.
Steve very generously took us down to Pacific Grove and shouted us a jalapeno burger and beer at 17th Street Grille. We??ve been eating more burgers than we would care to ?? from a cholesterol perspective ?? but couldn??t refuse and savoured every bite. Go there, if you can, and have the jalapeno burger - with a Sierra Nevada Pale Ale. Do the same after you??ve played Cypress, and you have the recipe for an unbeatable day. We farewelled the boys and thanked them both for all they??d done for us ?? particularly Robert, who??d arranged 4 games of golf for us over the past week.
I mentioned before about our episode at The Beach Club with Liam. That couple of hours deserves a few partings words before I leave you. Drained and overwhelmed, we arrived ?? after getting very lost in the maze of streets around Pebble ?? early in the evening, when the sun was blazing. Liam introduced us to a few of his pals, one of whom is Ken Coleman (or ??The Old Mench of the Sea? as he likes to be called). Ken??s a retired doctor who studied over at Trinity College in Dublin; has a severe penchant for Irish women; owns a dog called Bella that defacated on the 6th fairway during our walk out to the 7th; and lives on the 18th at Spyglass. He??s also a very interesting gentleman indeed (he??s a Mench for goodness sake!), and took a grand off Oscar De La Hoya on a casual bet that neither Oscar nor any of his pals would make birdie on 17 (at Pebble). (Ken was on the patio while they were passing by the tee, and struck up the yarn leading to the bet). Oscar??s agent ?? also in the fourball ?? pulled the cash out of his jacket pocket on the spot!
The four of us walked in the evening sun along 4, 5, 6 and up to the famous 7th hole. With the US Open approaching, all hell was breaking loose, with tents, grandstands and the like being erected by 6 million contractors. Amidst the melee we marched on up there to the tee ?? sand wedges in hand; ball each in the pocket ?? and delivered one down the hill. The Old Mench of the Sea, after initially refusing to have a hit, knocked it calmly to a foot. He doesn??t play any more these days, apparently. And do you know why? Because he made an albatross at a nearby club, and figured he may as well quit while he was at the top. On that day he was expecting the bar tab about to hit him was going to hurt. But there was only one guy in the bar...and it was Clint Eastwood (who owned the joint). So he bought Clint a drink. His order? ??Orange juice, junior.? Classic. (Clint also has a house and land right on the coast between Cypress and Pebble, and is a partner in the Pebble Beach Company).
But I digress. Atop the 7th, just in front of the tees, I also found one of my Top 10 Spots On A Golf Course In The World To Have A Pee ?? a segment that??s going to be delivered in due course. Right now I??ve snapped 2 or 3 that no doubt will make the final cut. To spend a penny under the evening sun on 7 ?? on the day I also played Cypress Point ?? was memorable, if not a little sacrilegious.
Liam, Ken, Mike and me got back to The Club without being arrested, I??m pleased to report. We had a spa and swim in the pool ?? both of which are outdoors on the deck and overlook the bay, with the 4-7 stretch on your left and 17 on your right. Not a bad view. Not a cloud in the sky. Then madness overcame us ?? and we charge into the ocean, which can??t have been more than 18 degrees. Liam does the staunch thing and wades in slowly; Mike and me are less concerned about our rep and more about our health, so we get straight in and straight out.
I could go on about this day, but if you??re still reading this far it??s an amazing feat on your part. So I??ll leave you with this little something that I??ve learned. If you put yourself out there, and reach out to people, anything can happen.
Thank you again to Craig for giving us an amazing gift; to Liam & family for your incredible hospitality; to Ray for being the best caddy in the world (we??ll see you in Scotland in July); and to Robert and Steve for everything. You??ve all made a couple of ambitious young lads feel truly privileged. It??s only Day 138, and we??ve got a long way to go, but this day will stay with us to the grave. I can guarantee you that.
JP
Dr Alistair MacKenzie, the great golf course architect was a bit of a lad. He grew old drinking his scotch in a place one hour south of San Francisco called Pasatiempo. Mac had a great fondness for this course as it was one of his finest designs and after our round there today I can see why he could never grow tired of playing here and living in this peaceful setting.
The serenity was contrasted today, not with our van ??Dodgy?? but with our attire. In particular, our golfing pants which we have been hooked up with from a new supporter of puregolf2010 ?? a company called loudmouth golf. They have other upstanding persons promoting their kit such as John Daly, Michael Hill (Jeweller) and the Norweigen curling team. So clearly we fit the mould... What am I saying, these pants have no mould, they are unique and Loud! If you want to make a statement on the golf course check them out. Even better they fit like a glove (well at least the one pair I could find in my tiny waist size do).
Jamie started with a bang today. A big bang. Into the trees initially, but a smart play to pitch out and he was standing over a sand wedge for his third into the par four first hole. ??Shot mate?, I said as I saw it sail up only to lose sight of the pill as it landed on the slightly elevated green. We walked up and his ball was nowhere to be found ?? except for the hole! The longest shot ever to be drained by JD Patton. Awesome stuff and one way to make birdie on the first hole!
Jamie paired up the four-ball today with a chap named Andrew Guillen. Andrew is a friend of Robert Kaufman and is from our part of the world. In fact, meeting Andrew at Pasatiempo GC proves how small the world really is ?? he is an uncle of a friend of ours who we went through school with in Christchurch ?? Sacha Van Beek (who incidentally is a Top Notch jazz singer these days, and her grandfather and Andrew??s dad Sam is a champion cricketer who played for both NZ and the West Indies). So Jamie and Andrew took on myself and Robert and needless to say that after JP??s heroics on the first RK and I were one down.
Two down on the third tee, after watching our man Andrew (off a 12 handicap) make a solid tap in par tap after hitting it to 15 feet on a 420 yard par four?. The third hole (below with Andrew) was brutal. 235 yards, uphill bunkers everywhere. MacKenzie style bunkers. Two in your face which don??t come into play unless you skank it along the ground but they definitely have a huge visual effect on the hole. The green was a long sloping beast, and the greens here are quick (although not as quick as some days as we were told by a member and puregolf2010 blog reader whom we met at the beginning of the round who goes by the name of Rob Babcock and publishes a ??where-to-golf-in-the-UK guide??). This hole was so gnarly and the slope around the hole so penal, that I won the hole with a 4. This proved to be one of 8 fours that I made on the front 9 (which looks good but isn??t so flash when there are three par 3??s on the nine, and the 9th score on the card is a double bogey 6).
I??m going to skip over most of the front nine, not because it wasn??t tremendous ?? indeed it had some quality holes such as the signature 6th where MacKenzie lived and a par five which looks like you should take 6 iron off the tee, but we all managed to hit the fairway with driver. The narrow fairway is unique for this course as most of the fairways are very wide and true to MacKenzie form this golf course is a game of angles and hitting it down the side of the fairway that best opens up the green. But the 6th is narrow and has OOB rolling down the left ?? something Jamie learnt after some intense sledging from Robert and Andrew caused him to duck hook his 2 iron into the great mans fence where it duly popped back out onto the path for a free drop. Jamie and Andrew were Red Hot through the front nine and combined to make three birdies in the first five holes but a couple of fours on the very reachable par fives (6 and 9) helped Robert and I to only be two down at the turn.
Which quickly turned into four down and despite a courageous comeback the match ended on the 17th green with a comprehensive 2 and 1 victory. The story, however of Pasatiempo really begins on the back nine, non-golf fans skip over this section, but for the purist here??s how it goes:
10: The tee shot is over a canyon and then the fairway slopes severely down and to the left. From the top of the hill (unless you really bomb driver) the approach drops in elevation to a green which slopes from back to front and from the bunker long you??re dead to a back pin placement, unless you can roll in a 20 footer to save par like JP.
11: An ultimate two shot hole. Only 400 yards but stroke 5 on the card. Sting it down the neck of the fairway on the right ?? a draw will end up in the hazard, right is OOB. But you can hit it 280 yards before you run out of room and from there it??s just a 9 iron or so. The green is guarded by bunkers and crazy swales - and today the pin was on the top of the severe false front. Both Andrew and Jamie had 20 foot putts from above the whole which upon rolling past the hole, just, then rolled 20 metres off the green and down the fairway. I hit it to 2 feet for the only uphill putt on the green and made birdie.
12: Where I got ??MacKenzied?. Wide fairway. Short hole. 2 iron and then wedge. Sure.. The slopes on the green were truly baffling ?? somehow despite the green facing into you, it actually slopes away from the front of the green? I sure didn??t see it for my putt which I thought was dead but ended 10 feet past. Jamie and Andrew were both spooked and missed their easy birdie putts. Fortunately none of us went down the left side of the fairway which would have made the approach very difficult.
13: A par five which if you hug the left side is reachable it in two. Of course there are bunkers on the left so you don??t feel inclined to do this. Around the green ?? well there is sand. Check it.
14: A hole that I couldn't take enough photographs of. It's not the signature hole, but it has an awesome trench running down the left side of the fairway which gives it a unique character. The trench is still part of the fairway, but it is definitely an advantage to hit your drive onto the flat part to the right (of course there is OOB just to the right of the fairway). Easy par, difficult birdie some would say of this hole. The green slopes away and to the right, of course the opposite way from the fairway (there is a name for this feature?). Classical par four.
15: Gorgeous wee par three which is set amongst the trees with amazing bunkering short, right and long. There is a gully with a hazard short if you really chunk it. The pin was right on the edge of a slope. I lagged a 20 footer for birdie, twice, for my four. Anything past the hole and the ball rolled 30 feet away.
16: This is the signature hole. A blind tee shot over a hill which bounds your ball left towards rough and a hazard. We all took a wild guess and smoked it down there somewhere ignoring the pro's advice to lay back a bit. The approach - wow. Well it needs a picture so when you read this, make sure to come back to this blog post for the visual aids. The green is elevated and slopes at you and is massive. It is like a giant dart board that you have to ping it at from the elevated approach back on the fairway. There is a ravene short and right and ginormous bunkers on the right and left. It looks like the ball cannot stop on the green, but there are three or four tiers that they could probably put the pin on. Today it was middle left on a small hollow that wouldn't have been larger than a Coolamon green (20 feet across tops). Jamie and Andrew both were wizards to leave their chips from the top tier within 6 feet.
17: An innocuous par four that spat a few of us out. Mentally exhausted from thinking my way around this course and you can't stop for a breath on this straight away par four 17th. Short left for two the green actually has the most revolting slope from left to right. Doesn't look like it mind you. Three of us putted from about 10 feet.
18: Pasatiempo finishes with a par three. A spectacular par three down hill to a green that slopes crazy loudmouth styles from back to front, and of course has MacKenzie bunkers everywhere (and a giant ravene) to make it just that little bit more inviting. No place to chill out at the end of your round - as the entire back nine is..
JP and I were going along OK but the last few holes really nailed us as we started to get beaten by the greens. Final scores were M:78, J:82. We finished the day with a drink or two in the bar and then were given some home cooked biscuits by Andrew - what a chief champ boss captain skipper. Just what you need after 5 months on the road.
Thanks to Pasatiempo and Robert and Andrew and LOUDMOUTH golf for making this all possible!
So after the longest day on Wednesday at Harding & Olympic (and all the rest that went with it), we had another redeye start. Although to be fair we got a lie in, since we were able to catch the 5.40am BART train, rather than the 5.10am one... Robert God Bless Him picked us up at the other end, from South San Francisco station. He didn't have any trouble finding us - unsurprisingly we were the only two Kiwis in the parking lot (we don't call them carparks any more), shivering to death under the San Fran fog. Poor little souls. HA!
Anyway as it turned out the Cal Club is a stone's throw from the BART station, so we could've just toddled up there ourselves. Now we know. Meandering up the driveway you get the feeling you're approaching somewhere special; the huge white pillared clubhouse was painfully impressive even in the morning mist. The staff kindly ushered us into the Grill Room to grab a pint of restorative cawffee, to blow away the cobwebs before we embarked on round number 133 of 2010. Two pints did the trick - we were ready for action. Mark (the pro) handed us the most beautiful yardage book and leather holder I'd ever seen, which didn't do us any good as it turns out! i mean to say that it wouldn't have mattered what help we had - because both of us were chopping it all over the place. Robert wasn't much better, I'm afraid to say.
Dr. Alister MacKenzie the man himself came through these parts some time ago - during the 20s - and was asked to do the bunkering. You could see straight away, from the first hole, that his influence remains. There are hundreds of the blighters, and each of them looks more fierce than the next. They've all got hairy eyelids too.
A stupid decision was made on the 1st tee. We would play from the Venturi Tees, named after the famous Ken Venturi, who was a member here for many years. It won't surprise you to hear that we don't hit the ball like KV at the best of times, but on this occasion we were even further from the mark than normal. In the cold fog the ball wasn't flying very far, and when it did it wasn't running either. So we got beat up. But dam it was fun.
Robert was great company, as he was on Tuesday at Meadow. Over these past few days I've been tremendously endeared to the Americans and their ability to take golf for what it is - a game. He chuckled and cheered when he hit an ugly shot, and was equally amusing when one of us was on the receiving end. And so despite the fact that we really were playing some of our worst golf, I think I can safely say the three of us had a ball, just enjoying the fresh air.
Cal Club's a pretty formidable test of golf. The greens are what got me boggled; they're a dark olive green, and seemed to break uphill. I don't usually miss many 4 or 6 footers, but managed to leave a few out there today. Four 3 putts in 5 holes. And thanks to Dr. MacKenzie's dark sense of humour, you don't stand over many approach shots feeling relaxed. At times it's almost a case of deciding which would be the least severe to play out of. At least we got plenty sand practice.
One or two of the holes play back towards the White House-like clubhouse, which sits atop a knoll and has a huge star spangled banner flapping in front of it. They're awe inspiring holes, especially the 11th (which veers down the hill and to the left, to a green sunk into said knoll). Really the 12th was the start of our demise, as the doubles and triples started to flow. Things went pear shaped.
JP
JP coming to you from back on tour. In San Francisco, amongst the action. Brace yourself.
I awoke atop a couple of sofa cushions on a mate's floor in Berkeley, a block away from the infamous campus. (You would have seen that yesterday we went for a reccy and saw, among other things, a huge protest about some racist laws proposed in Arizona - this place really does live up to its billing). Wolfed down some of Fi's home made sugar free muesli (she has to make it herself, because the Americans seem to want to put sugar in everything, at least according to Fi); caught a ride up to San Rafael with Fi's mate who works up that way; and had coffee with our mate Robert Kaufman, a local chap who has various fingers in various pies in the California golf industry.
Rob's been in contact with us for a few months now, and kindly jacked up a few games for us this week in his hometown. At some pretty sharp venues I might add. Today was Meadow Club, Dr. Alistair MacKenzie's first design in the US. Didn't he do well, all those years ago in 1927.
Thankfully the bitterly cold and wet front that made its unwelcome presence very known yesterday blew through overnight. When we stepped out of the flat blue sky was flirting with us through the trees. Then it rather boldly revealed itself in its entirety, and stayed with us all day. As the snowboarders say, "bluebird".
The drive up from Robert's place to Meadow Club takes you through some of the more affluent parts of North Bay, and in particular through the mellow little town of Fairfax. Leafy, clean and relaxed - a good vibe. Apparently you pay a bit to live there though - couples starting out can expect to pay upwards of US$600,000 for anything down in the valley, and double that if you're on any kind of hill. We just appreciated the scenery and turned our minds to the task in hand.
Meadow Club's clubhouse is a grand affair, the only descriptor for which I can find is American. Pardon me for clarifying, but I mean American in a good way. Of course. Anyway without digging myself a bigger hole, it's huge; fits well into the semi-alpine surrounds; and provides a pretty special backdrop to holes 9 and 18.
Jim O'Neal, the Head Pro, met us in the pro shop. What a tremendously nice human being he is. (For you golfers out there, a tidbit of trivia - he and his brother are the lads behind Ballyneal, a 2006 course up in the "mountainous desert" of Colorado, designed by Tom Doak). Jim chatted away for half an hour or so and - despite initially mistaking us for Australians - couldn't have made us feel any more welcome. So thanks Jim, and co.
Standing on the 1st tee I must admit there were a few nerves. After 2 weeks off I wasn't sure which way the ball was going to go (hopefully not backwards), so just closed my eyes and guessed. It went on the fairway, which was very obedient of it. Robert hits a good ball, and delivered a true blow down the middle too (one of several crackers he got away today). Mike lost his ball but improved from there.
The track's definitely got a MacKenzie feel about it - especially when you look at the bunkering (which you can't help but do). Pretty simple design, in that it's not contrived or tricked up. Fairways can be wide, but placement is important and you want to stay away from the bunkers (or even worse, from the bunker lips, which are hairier than Hugh Davies - a good friend of ours that has lots of hair). Greens were slick and undulating but not monstrous. Trees were mature, which makes for a pretty serene setting. Especially when you add into the mixer deer, wild turkeys and soaring hawks. Really it was like playing in Yellowstone National Park.
But I won't bore you with too much golf talk. A video is being put together in due course with some footage, so you'll get to see for yourself. In the meantime below are a couple of snaps that should give you a taste.
4th green in the foreground; 5th in the background
Pretty tight tee shot on number 6
Bambi
9, a very strong par 4 (at 464 yards), which happened to play into a slight breeze today
14 - a 200 yard par 3 that's all carry
17 - stroke 2; tight; and the site of my 2nd birdie
Robert and me with 17 green behind us
18 green - a wonderful finish
The rest of the day, apres golf, has been spent arduously in search of...a car. Obviously this is something we need in order to get ourselves from here to New York in 62 days (via Dallas, New Orleans, Florida, and the rest). I should say, a reliable car. Many emails have been sent and phonecalls made - and we even test drove a huge Dodge Ram Van that a few French students are trying to pawn off before they go home next week after finals - but at this point we're still carless. Not careless; carless.
Robert was very tolerant in allowing us to perch at his dining room table for said 5 hours, pending the arrival of Dan (who dropped us up at San Raf in the morning) to pick us up and return us to Berkeley. I'm as confused as you are. Anyway thanks Robert for your tolerance; as I said, having 2 mad Kiwis camped out in your living room for an entire Tuesday afternoon trying to buy a car is probably not something that happens every week. When we get the car, we'll take you for a spin (I hope we get the Dodge, you'd like it).
This being Berkeley we went out for some vegan / vegetarian / happy dinner, at a place called Chick-pea-o's. Good value and we've single handedly saved the planet. Or a poor cow. How Berkeley.
Rito emails must be sent and other things arranged, so This Is The End, as Jim Morrison said.
Until Tomorrow, JP
P.S. J: 77, M: 81, R: 88
Day 126. New South Wales Golf course. Words cannot express how good this course is, so I have put together a video. It has taken 4 cracks to get it up on youtube because of various copyright issues.. I think it's fair use but I don't have the time or resources to take on youtube at this point in time. For the record I had 79 which I was thrilled with. The 7 of us had a great day and it was a spectacular day.
A few blogs are on their way, but in the meantime I have my bags to pack, some speed golf to play and a plane to catch to San Fran.
1: Royal Adelaide on a crisp Adelaide morning. We jump out of the car, meet Andrew the General Manager, grab a classical looking score card and tee off the first. This course is old and has a warm but quaint feel about it. Around since 1906, it is nearly 90 years since Dr Alastair MacKenzie had a play with the design in 1926. The first is a par four, with bunkers on the corner of a slight dogleg left. I get up and down from the bunker so Jamie is the crab. We're away. [Note: more pictures to follow when we get a decent internet connection]
2: Between the first and second holes is a railway line. Trains fly through the golf course every 20 minutes. Andrew tells us that some days it feels like every 10? The clubhouse used to adjoin a train station so that the members could jump straight off the train and start their round. Number 2 is a par five and our first real taste of the South Australian red sand bunkering that surrounds the green. Jamie and I make two very different fives.
3: A blind tee shot where, from the tee, we can just see the top of the flag. A 269m par four. It is at this point we wish we had some local playing partners to tell us where to hit it! I take 2 iron and flush it at the pin. JP goes with the aggressive play and pulls driver. Over the hill is a truly great golf hole. The green is an inverted pear shape with the narrowest of entries between long rough of either side of the green. I've had a couple of firm bounces and am 20 ft from the cup just off the green. Birdie. Stoked.
4: The blind tee shots just keep coming. And over sand dunes this time. I sneak another birdie with a raker from off the green. Stoked. Game on to win the day 3-0 and try and take out the monthly competition.
5: JP and I just keep hitting fairways. They, along with the rest of the course, are perfectly groomed. The 5th is another strong hole that doglegs right. Jamie drains a left to right bomb in front of the camera as a train hurtles by. Great footage.
6: A 420m hole that Norman complained about during the 98 Aussie Open because he couldn't reach the green in two. Pansy. But I did hear that it was quite windy that day. Jamie chips in for birdie. Game on.
7: The first short hole. 160m uphill from a newly aligned tee block to a green surrounded by about 7 bunkers. Visually intimidating but the green is actually massive. Jamie drains an absolute bomb for 2. I three putt. Ouch. No complaints though as the greens here are pure.
8: Golf holes don't need massive features to be difficult. The only real defense of the 8th is a solitary fairway bunker to make you hit 3 wood / iron off the tee and then a very narrow green which angles to the right yet tilts to the left. Jamie and I both miss it on the left. But thankfully the up and down is manageable from this side and we make 4. Right would have been a certain 5. Beautifully subtle golf.
9: The front nine is rounded off with a couple of fives and we are both square with the card. We share a quip with a friendly local playing behind named John who we met prior to the round. John is having a match against another member, Henry and is up at the turn.
10: The 10th green still frightens me as I write this. An upturned saucer if ever there was one. A green that Peter Thompson dreams about and has tried to replicate 793 times. Despite having 70m to the green for my second I make 5. Just. Nearly a four putt (first from off the green). Supposedly Danny Lee 4-putted this green during the '08 Eisonhower played here (and at the Grange) in 2008. Imagine Ed on this green.
11: The hole that epitomizes Royal Adelaide. Carry over a bunker (which JP topped it into and took two to get out of) to a tight fairway with bunkers left and right. The green sits in a natural amphitheater amidst perfectly set in the red sand dunes. Natural wasteland is short of the green for 60m or so, which my second finds its way into. This hole hasn't changed much from the scene set on the huge canvas photo from the 1920's which greets you as you enter the stately clubhouse. I absolutely love the hole even though I make 6. Jamie makes a rabbit-out-of-the-hat 5. Check it.
12: Downhill 200m par three that normally plays into the wind. Supposedly the pro's all take iron and leave it short because their ego wont allow them to hit a wood. That's what the locals say. JP and I combined take 5 shots, my turn to sink a bomb.
13: Blind tee shots - don't we just love them. At the green Andrew comes out to see how we are finding the course. A nice touch. He says some greens look undulating but don't borrow much, yet some really swing. The 13th is the latter and we don't sink any putts on this hole. One of Jamie's two pars for the back nine ( Tour golf deteriorated on the back nine).
14: We tee off from behind the railway lines on this strong par four. There is a pond, not really in play on the right. It is very interesting that water in Australia is used more for storage purposes than as an obstacle. It's essential over here to make the most of a scarce resource.
15: A short par five which slides its way between the aforementioned hazard which is now very much in play. I go into it and make 6. New wasteland on the left makes this the tightest driving hole on the course, which will only get more difficult as the scrub on the left grows up and becomes a prime 'lost ball' zone.
16: The final short hole. This hole requires some iron shot to get on the green. Always a sign of a great par three. My one-putt three means the putting point for the day is looking promising. Fairways are an issue however. Jamie is craving a sandwich in the clubhouse.
17: Where do I begin.. Mike Clayton's contribution to Royal Adelaide. And I'm sorry to say it is not a good one. A 120m wide fairway (wide enough that you can hit a full wedge from one side to the other) with three gigantic bunkers plonked in the middle of it. Supposedly McKenzie designed this hole so that you could take various routes with your tee shot. I would suggest most good golfers just take the direct route straight over the bunkers. Particularly down the prevailing wind. But upon inspection of McKenzie's masterplan (positioned up in the clubhouse) there is no way that you can interpret his 17th fairway as being wide enough to land a jumbo jet on. The bunkering on this hole was completely different to the rest of the course (but yet very similar to a similar designers newly renovated holes at the Grange East course). The bunkers on 17 could have been transplanted from the Dunes or 13th Beach. Bizarre. I hit driver over Clayt's sandpits to leave a 7 iron in. But the fairway has a number of dead elephants in it (also unique to this hole) and from my sharp upslope I pulled it into the green-side bunker where my srixon duly plugged deep into the face, a feat that is impossible on any of the other manicured bunkers on the course. I scramble a one putt 6 after two hacks from the bunker. The 50m long green is about the size of all the other greens on the back nine put together. Simplicity of design is key, and this, to me, just didn't fit at all with the rest of this idyllic course.
18: Jamie hits a smooth 5 iron onto the fairway to take the fairway point for the day. And the statistics match for the month of March. Two months in a row for Mr Patton. Congrats. The scores finish 79 / 81 which is very disappointing considering the potential after the front nine. But we loved the course. Dearly. This is one of the best courses in Australia hands down, it has a real character to it. I just hope they don't try and alter it too much, ala 17.
After the round we have lunch in the clubhouse with the chaps behind, John and Henry. John has won their closely fought match 2 up. Henry has seen it all here after being a member for almost 50 years!. We hear about the club culture and atmosphere which from our experience is nothing short of extremely welcoming and comfortable. The lunch is pretty sharp too! Fast golf is a feature here for the members and you are expected to get around in 3hr 20 minutes if you play on Saturday before 1030am. That is my kind of golf.
We share golfing stories with these gentlemen for an hour or so over lunch and discuss the golf course in depth. John tells us about some of the amazing golf he has played in this vast place that is Australia. Then he introduces us to some other members who hear all about our three months of non-stop-can't-get-enough-golf.
Before we leave we soak in the history around us - photographs of the 11th hole through the ages; photographs of the galleries lining the fairways at the various large tournaments hosted by the club; and the masterplans of the course as created through the ages. Andrew and his team are to be complimented for the wonderful golfing experience that is Royal Adelaide. Thank you very much for having us.
Chisholm Park
12 holes bart cape kidnappers christchurch christmas doak ed bayley hawke's bay heretaunga jane poole napier golf club new zealand puregolf2010 rangiora rarangi gc royal royal wellington the first tee the interislander waiohiki
