I ran across this in my files; it was the start of an essay on a great golf course that is now, sadly, gone.
Golf is often best as a social game, shared with friends or friendly strangers, but playing alone on a favorite golf course in the early morning sun is still a welcome treat. I had such an opportunity in June, setting out at 7 am in the sparkling dew at High Pointe. Golf bag strapped across my back, I relished another chance to feel the sandy soil under foot and think my way around the sweet challenges of Tom Doak’s first design.
Many writers romanticize golf as a peaceful game, but everyone who plays it seriously knows better. Golf is so appealing because it is simultaneously relaxing and unnerving, exhilarating and frustrating. Much the same can be said of the best golf courses. They should not inspire abject fear in a golfer, except perhaps for a hole or two. Few golfers prefer courses that make them sweat on every hole. Rather, they should be challenging while holding out the prospect that a well struck shot, even by a high handicapper, will be rewarded. High Pointe is just such a course.
The very best courses, however, go beyond challenging to quirky—not silly. High Pointe is quirky in all the best ways. First and foremost, it is asymmetrical. Many golfers prefer fairways with symmetrical corridors of hills or trees, but High Pointe is so much fun because it rarely presents such prospects. On the very first hole, a big hill in the landing area for the tee shot kicks everything right. On the third hole, the downhill tee shot kicks everything left. The hogs back fairway of #14 kicks balls left, right, forward, or backward, all depending on where your tee shot lands. You never quite feel comfortable over a shot at High Pointe, which, paradoxically, makes the course exciting to play repeatedly. I have played it 10-15 times and rarely had the same shot twice.