I have always thought the use of sand bunkers to be way overdone on most modern courses. There are so many more options, none of which seem to "satisfy" the designer more than sand filled holes (bunkers). In Bunkers, Pits & Other Hazards, Mark Fine and I shared some insight to the artificial creation of humps — and the origins of this trend to golf architecture:
Alpinization
The idea of “Alpinization” was discussed by many legendary golf architects after a breakthrough experiment in 1910 by J.H. Taylor, the acclaimed British golfer and five-time winner of The Open. The concept was simple enough: Create mounds on flattish inland parcels of land with the goal of emulating the bumpy terrain of seaside linksland. As golf flourished across the world there was an intense desire to copy the holes and hazards of golf’s original courses—those on the natural linksland. Hazards had been naturally driven on early terrain by the coast. The dunes and uneven landscape provided nearly endless hazards for the taking, and in a spot where a new hazard might be interesting to consider, a never-ending palette from which to develop hazards was readily available. The slopes of dunes and the low points in between needed only a modest nudge to create hazards of dramatic quality.
But as golf grew beyond the seacoasts to meet a hungry population, the charm of the links needed cloning if golf was to survive the heathland and often less interesting land away from the sea. On many occasions those responsible for laying out new courses would conduct investigative trips to study early links courses. Whether the new course was being created in the heart of England, just a day’s drive from the sea, on the European Continent or in America, the effort to attempt recreation of some of the ambiance of natural linksland was a major objective.
It was Taylor’s experiment to transform Royal-Mid Surrey’s Outer Course in England that spurred the discussion. Mid-Surrey is located at the edge of both Middlesex and Surrey, hence its name. It was originally founded in 1892. One is able to get a picture-perfect image of the course before Taylor began his tinkering through the words of the late Bernard Darwin. In describing the land’s unsuitability for golf, Darwin (as usual) deploys just the correct amount of words, writing that it was “flat as a pancake.” What more does one need to know? Thank you, Mr. Darwin.
The ultimate solution put to practice by Taylor involved many horses and laborers. Taylor was assisted by Peter Lees, a greenkeeper. Together the two men directed this combination of animal, plow and manual labor, creating a scene as if ants were forming pile upon pile of soil. Eventually the flat landscape was transformed into one of peaked mounds and humps. Some of these were very large and impressive. The objective was to recreate linksland, and at the same time replace the need for so many penal bunkers. Without dunes and natural features, inland courses sans natural landforms were being defined by too many cross bunkers and cop bunkers. They were becoming a crutch of sorts. Taylor reasoned that hillocks and hollows created artificially would be a better approach, and besides, these would allow for a more natural setting to place bunkers.
As the work of Taylor and Lees progressed, those busy planning new courses around the world took notice. Soon there was a buzz about “alpinization” everywhere golf was being considered. George Crump at Pine Valley attempted a version of “alpinization,” soon abandoning it. Crump placed his eggs in the basket of using the terrain Pine Valley had to offer. “Alpinization” did not seem to fit every canvas. In the span of just a few years the concept of “alpinization” went from being admired to being shunned. Taylors’ abrupt mounds and the replicated nature of them was thought of as a Frankenstein.
Taylor, who had been quoted during his Mid Surrey effort as saying, “...it should be made to look as close to nature as the hand of man admits,” is still shunned today. Many golf architecture critics and enthusiasts continue to describe his work as a “failure”—unnatural and unnecessary.
But Taylor’s laboratory at Mid Surrey forever gave golf a major breakthrough. The notion that Taylor failed is without merit. Although the result of “alpinization” at first was perhaps too abrupt and overdone, it opened the door to thinking beyond bunkers as hazards. Taylor taught us to think outside the box when it comes to mixing golf with inland sites. The lesson learned from Mid Surrey was that the earth could be sculpted, not only by the hand of Mother Nature, but also through the vision of the golf architect. The hazards of the natural linksland were never intended to be bunker after bunker or sand pit after sand pit. Taylor sent a reminder into the future that the nuances of the undulating land are as much a part of the challenge of golf as anything else.
(©2005 John Wiley & Sons, Bunkers, Pits & Other Hazards)