July 19, 2018
My second round of the year was at Charleston Springs, South Course. I admit I was hoping for North, but as always, I take the first available. They sent me up to catch a threesome, which I just about made sure I never did. There was nobody behind me, and though it is second to golfing with friends--a situation few and far in between these days--I still enjoy the lonesome round. I get to talk to myself for a while, and laugh at myself, and then I get to bring it here. It is easier to take pictures too, because I would feel silly doing so among strangers seriously trying to score.
We can go on and on about how a golf blog should be instructional and meaningful golf-wise, but I must say, I severely doubt the ability of printed words to have any affect on the swing and the score. You have to wave the sticks in the air, and you have to chase your ball. My aim is to inspire the weekend hacker to draw from the four hours an appreciation of the beauty of a manicured grass track, of the tricks and challenges laid before the duffer, and the satisfaction of making those rare few shots just like the guys on tour and on TV.
I started with a sloppy 7 on Hole #1, Par 4 405. You can't quit after one hole. I wanted to. But I hardly ever quit after 6, 8, 12, or 16 either. Some would consider it a form of punishment. I'm reminded of the old 'Far Side' cartoon where Beethoven is in hell, doomed to witness an eternity of folky accordion square dancers dressed in cowboy clothes. That would be Tiger on a round with me.
Or maybe not, who knows.
The second wasn't exactly better, but I closed it better. It took me three shots to get to the pic below, where it should have only taken one. That's about 130 away from the green, and the shrubbery surrounds a pond.
My trusty 9 iron landed me to the pic below. And it was a fine, lofty, 'real' nine iron, although not the real kind. I mean I don't spin the ball on the green or anything. It's still nice to watch it pop up and drop right in. I bet the geese loved it. They quacked and waddled, if that's what geese sounds are called.
The third hole is a long Par 3 195 or so, and I hit a fine 4 iron here. Wish I had an audience for this one. I'm pretty sure I flubbed into the brown brush on the right last time, but not on July 19. I landed this well stuck four on the green.
Unfortunately, I'm not the great photographer I think I am, as you cannot even see my ball on the green, but if the pin is the center of the clock, my ball is at about 1 o'clock, but with a good forty feet to go, downhill. And I hit a poor putt, leaving it five or six feet short, and I missed the par putt. I'm glad I didn't have an audience for that. But how about that sky?
Golfing stinks. I mean, really. On the Par 4 432 yard, straight uphill hole #4, I landed here after two shots:
This is known as 'not on the fairway'. But my photography skills show improvement here, I think. You can see the pin between those two trees. I'm not that crazy. I hit it to the right of the second tree, and hit a pretty decent shot considering the circumstances. I found fairway, and I found a 7!
Next, I'll leave you to guess which hole came after 4?
You give up? It was 5. Here's a view from the tee:
See the bunker center left? Right over that is a great drive. My drive went to the little stick fence just past the Senior Whites. Yeah, a dribbler. I cursed a few choice curses, and blamed all the appropriate people. But how about that sky, eh?
So I'm mildly sarcastic, not funny, and pathetic to the masters (and The Masters), but I do like the sky. I like the scene overall. And I do par a hole every now and then. For instance, on the simple Par 4 7th, 317 yards, I hit a garbage drive with my...hmmm...I don't remember what I hit off the tee, but it was either a four iron, or my 3-wood, upon which I leave a hat to remind me never to use my 3-wood. I flubbed the drive, but I persevere, as you always should in life. I landed my second shot right here:
This is just about 100 out, maybe a touch more, lying 3. I am in the shadow of some giant trees and feel a pleasant breeze. Yeah, poetry.
The pitching wedge puts me in the photo above on my third shot. This was another lofty sky ball that drops down and doesn't move. Until I pound it in the hole with my putter. For Par. I par holes sometimes, and it makes me comeback.
And sometimes the par gets you hot. For example, the next hole, #8, is a Par 5 505. You have to be careful not to touch the power lines. Or live under them.
But this is a great hole, since you can't even see the whole thing. I am quite familiar with both the ping ponging trees to the right, and the long, ball-eating grass on the left. But not today. Today, I'm hot, like Mr. Havecamp in Caddyshack. In fact, after this drive, I'm pretty sure I said out loud to no one, "By golly, I'm hot today," just like Mr. Havecamp.
Below is a look back to the tee from where my drive landed. It's basically right down the pipe, 250 plus out. I don't know the number. Numbers are kind of your enemy when you stink at golf.
My second shot was also true. I believe it was a six iron. After my par, I hit a great drive, and a great six iron, and I was looking at the third shot below. So going back to the last hole, I made four actual golf shots in a row up until this point. I point this out of course because it was the high point of the round, soon to come crashing down.
The fun part about the picture above is the giant fan you see to the left of the green, like around 9 or ten o'clock. Apparently this green gets wet and needs that fan to blow some to help it dry. It wasn't on or anything, but you can see how the ground drops off if you over shoot the green. Well I over shot the green with my 8 or 9 iron. I'm not too sure which it was, but I went way down hill into the woods. Proper golf may be out of bounds there, but I found my ball easily--and luckily enough because it was in the woods, way down below the green. Twenty yards away, and twenty feet below the green, and staring right up at that fan, I pull out the pitching wedge (I can't trust the sand wedge). I strike the ball beautifully and pop it right toward the pin, to keep my hope of par alive. But instead of landing on the green, my ball clanks off that stupid, hollow metal fan casing. And it was loud, and comical, like a Monty Python scene, echoing. I think a deer laughed. I did too. I couldn't have hit that fan with a hundred tries, much less from the woods with fallen logs and twigs and little brush all around. I legit didn't fix my lie. I hit the ball square, and the fan squarer, but...7.
Between the 8th and 9th hole, there is a bridge. It's not that interesting, and I don't have anything witty to say about it, but it's a good spot to chill, take a drink.
And then there's 9 (below). Par 3 158 yards, but crazy hard for some unknown reason (hint: I stink at golf).
I flubbed my seven iron off the tee, and landed in that brown patch to the left, twenty or thirty yards away from the tee box. I then hit a brilliant and aggressive 8 iron, really nice, landing it on the green, but it trickled off to the fringe on the backside. I had a chance to make a brilliant putt from the fringe, but instead I decided to triple the brilliance for a double bogey. You thought I was gonna point out the gorgeous blue sky, huh? I guess I just did. 52 on the front. < 100 is still possible.
Regular readers of my blog (I think I am pretty much the only person who has read my blog) will know I've taken pictures of the short Par 4 10th, 294 yards. It's a dangerous hole to try and drive because of the gully before the green, and the drop off after it. I use a five iron, and don't really strike it well, sort of slicing it. But I come up to a good lie, for my second, about 150 out:
Some would say fairways are overrated. In this case they are. Some would also say, a professional photographer would really help this experience, because my second shot on 10 is just on the fringe, at 7 or 8 o'clock (pin is clock center), barely perceptible in this photo:
Ok, a little editing goes a long way. That's better:
And then my third shot lands here:
I don't know if that homeowner has a sense of humor about mini golf and golf courses in general, but I kicked ass on the wishing well hole. Par (again). I wouldn't have missed that for the world, Bobby. (Hearts in Atlantis? Anthony Hopkins? Anybody?) Ok, next:
This is 11, Par 3, 115 yards, the easiest hole on the course. I bogeyed. It's frustrating too because I hit a very decent shot off the tee, to the front fringe, but could not close the deal after shot number two put me four feet away. I cursed again.
I have no idea what I was thinking with that above photo. Please use your imagination.
I had a decent look at the green on this my fourth shot, with no real chance at par, but there was a pond lurking dangerously to the right, and the moon shone brightly in the upper right of the frame. The moon is so much more brilliant in person. So small in regular, un-doctored photos.
Again, a decent look, but I don't know. I had a six on this hole, and don't know what I was thinking.
I'll say this though: as you can probably see, I was walking and by 15, I am punchy. I think it was the moon again, top center.
And this is very frustrating too. Above you see my fourth shot on #15, the hardest hole on the course, which features a tough, blind drive over a pond, which of course I didn't photograph for you. I managed to get there in three, which, if I had only managed to land twenty feet to the left would be a great par putt. But if wishes were horses, beggars would ride...I muffed that in the heavy grass. See how it's buried. I ended the hole with a 6.
Ok, on to 18: (you didn't think I'd bore you with my 7 on the Par 5 16th? Or my 5 on the Par 3 17th? Right.
This hole dog-legs right, and down. There is lots of potential trouble with a bad drive, including a gully for the dribbler, and woods, and fescue. But not for this guy. I nail my drive, and land here:
I wish I could say I plopped this one right near the pin, but I landed on the right fringe. I was putting for birdie, and left it four feet short. I then missed the four foot par, and cursed some more.
There's a long walk from the clubhouse to the South Course at Charleston Springs. There is long wooden bridge which is in the same style as the small bridge from scene 24 (the unspectacular pic way above). This the pond which it traverses. You see some interesting birds and turtles and stuff.
But not in this pic.
The back was a 50, so it was a 102. Not my worst, but nothing to write a blog about.
