Canyon Springs, my course in Idaho, was built in an old orchard. The ground is pure sand, so, like a links, rather worthless for other agriculture. Here’s our list of edible offerings: apples, pears, cherries, strawberries, mulberries, black walnuts, and wild asparagus, currently in season. At one time there were peaches and other offerings but those were consumed by the second nine. My father Joe built the course. When they were casting about for a name, I didn’t play golf and suggested “Joe’s Pick ‘n Play” with little baskets attached to the carts and trolleys. It was all folly to me at the time.
A friend told me about playing a course on the Big Island in Hawaii. There were peacocks roaming around and his wife nailed one in the head with her tee shot. Killed it on the spot. They snuck off as quickly as they could. Later, when they told a Hawaiian friend the story, he eagerly asked if they brought it home. The said of course not. “Damn,” he said “delicious.”
My own birdie story comes from Palm Springs. Playing a driver over a lake, I topped it and hit an isolated coot. It didn’t die right away, but sort of writhed and flopped around on the surface for awhile. Three other coots swam over to investigate the disturbance. My playing partner just said “Here come the lawyer coots.”