I hate to pick on this golf course. My host was the creator of the Energizer Bunny, and dying of cancer in what proved to be his last round of golf before he passed away . . . . . .
But Atlantic does not work. The routing is a screaming argument with the land and I fail to see why it was necessary to connect the dots in such a disjointed way.
Everything seems to go against the grain of the terrain; I actually felt agitated and frustrated by the end because the inner vibrations and energy flow of the ground seemed at odds with where the holes were clumsily shoved.
Cascata in Boulder City, NV gave me the same sensation of confusion and paddling against the current of God's hand.
Surprisingly, there are elements of Spyglass that feel forced on the land - especially the back nine, where to me, the routing has always seemed to move gracelessly towards the end, as if Jones was so enamored with the opening holes that he forgot to finish the painting.
The Hapuna Course - just up the hill from Mauna Kea is another. I cannot put my finger on it, but Arnie's boys routed out a golf course that is nothing less than annoying to play. Strange culverts appear out of nowhere, creating a backstop for tee shots set up downhill and downwind.
The same happened at the Palmer Course at Kapalua - I have played it 40 times - but I am not sure anybody could have been able to deal with such a hideous piece of land. We will see what happens with the remodel.
All this stated, the prime offender and all time prize-winner for fighting the land is still Eagle Ridge in Morgan Hill, CA. Convoluted, hoplessly artificial and humorless, I think Johnny Miller hired the local drunk to go out there with some stakes and have at it.
Carmel Valley Ranch falls into the category, but the ground on the back side was as impossible as that train wreck Casey O'Callaghan got roped into at The Ranch in San Jose. You cannot pick on guys who try to force something on an impossible parcel of dirt because they need the dough or nothing else has come along.
The original course at Blackhawk falls into that black abyss; not even Seth Raynor could have made chicken salad out of that mess.
So the question ought to be "Can you name courses on decent property that fight the land needlessly?"
Otherwise you could go on for days . . . . .