Letting Golf Courses Go a Little Wild
By LISA W. FODERARO
Angel Franco/The New York Times
Eric Greytok director of golf course maintenance, putting some water on a green at Winged Foot Golf Club in Mamaroneck, N.Y. The club is considering spending millions on a new and highly efficient irrigation system.
Topics
Alerts
*From today's 5/1/02 New York Times
For years, they have been viewed as the environmental monsters of the suburbs — impossibly green swards that live on a diet of heavy doses of pesticides and endless supplies of water.
But as golfers tee off this spring, they are gazing out on courses that in many cases have been changed in only a decade from ecological villains to green spaces that integrate native plants and wild animals and use less water and chemicals.
With a new golf course opening every day on average in the United States, environmentalists have pressed the golf industry to follow safer practices. But many say that despite an agreement between courses and environmentalists to adopt less obtrusive methods, the industry needs to accelerate the "greening" of golf courses.
"We're confronted with a situation where there is massive golf course construction going on right now," said Dr. Brent Blackwelder, president of Friends of the Earth in Washington. "I'm encouraged that we got this agreement and by a number of success stories, but we also have a huge way to go."
But approaches that are less harmful to the environment and encourage wildlife have become increasingly common.
The changes are often cheap and low-tech: stocking a pond at Westchester Country Club with carp instead of relying on algicides, for example, or erecting dozens of bluebird and bat houses at Glens Falls Country Club, north of Albany, to help with pest control.
At Edgewood Country Club in River Vale, N.J., pesticide use, now a last resort, was cut sharply by raising grass heights a mere eighth of an inch, thus easing stress on the turf and making it more resistant to pests. Maintenance crews have let 30 of the course's 155 acres go natural. Now a half dozen red foxes are spotted daily.
"In the beginning it was a very tough sell to the membership because all of a sudden they were seeing areas that weren't watered or maintained," said Paul Dotti, the club's golf course superintendent. "But then they started seeing wildflowers, and now they want more."
The severe drought on the East Coast has added urgency to the efforts of golf clubs to save water. Courses must abide by local drought restrictions, but some are taking further steps, like installing indigenous plant species that can withstand dry spells.
To a certain extent, the new practices on golf courses are an exercise in damage control: an effort to stem the negative publicity from environmentalists scornful of wanton spraying of pesticides and water. At the extreme end of that criticism was an act of eco-sabotage two years ago in which vandals destroyed research projects at an Oregon company that develops putting-green grass.
But major golf organizations and mainstream environmental groups like Friends of the Earth and the National Wildlife Federation, along with academics and government officials, had already convened in Pebble Beach, Calif., for a peace conference of sorts in the mid-1990's.
The participants hammered out a set of environmental principles now being carried out voluntarily at many of the nation's 17,730 courses. They also formed a 28-member steering committee.
"There has been a sea change in terms of the golf industry's view of the environmental community and its willingness to work with us," said Paul Parker, executive vice president of the Center for Resource Management, a nonprofit environmental group in Salt Lake City that brought the parties together. "Generally, I'm pleased."
One sign of the changing ethos of golf clubs is the way they promote their environmental efforts. Many courses display certificates from Audubon International, an organization in Selkirk, N.Y., that works with clubs and businesses to improve water quality, foster wildlife and reduce chemical use.
Since 1991, the group, which is not affiliated with the National Audubon Society and is financed partly by the United States Golf Association, has certified 331 courses in the country as "Audubon cooperative sanctuaries." About 2,400 courses are in the pipeline to become certified, a process that takes one to three years.
The National Audubon Society, which waged an unsuccessful legal battle against Audubon International for using the Audubon name, offers tepid praise of the group's work. "It's like taking a city park and making it better," said John R. Bianchi, a spokesman for the society, a 97-year-old environmental organization. "It's simply not wildlife."
But golf course superintendents, many of them experts in turf science who hold bachelor's and master's degrees in agronomy, are starting to see themselves as champions of wild turkeys, coyotes, turtles, rabbits, even earthworms.
"With everything being developed into housing, we're some of the remaining open spaces," said Mr. Dotti of Edgewood Country Club. "Pretty soon, wildlife will have no choice but to try and find residency in people's yards and on golf courses."
Mr. Dotti's golf course is certified by Audubon International and was recognized for "environmental stewardship" by the Golf Course Superintendents Association of America and Golf Digest. He said the soil is so healthy now that earthworms leave their castings all over the fairways.
The drought has added to the pressures to conserve water.
Glens Falls Country Club is reaping the benefits of a decision it made several years ago to switch to a less thirsty turf on its fairways, replacing Kentucky bluegrass with creeping bent grass. "We have pretty much cut our average water use in half," said Chris Frielinghaus, the club's superintendent of grounds.
Winged Foot Golf Club in Mamaroneck, N.Y., Westchester County's premier course, is considering spending as much as $5 million on a new, highly efficient irrigation system. In the meantime, it is applying a wetting agent to its greens to speed water penetration.
In the last year, Westchester County, which owns five public courses, has put in 2,200 native plants known for their drought resistance. At Maple Moor Golf Course in White Plains, goldenrod and black-eyed Susans line the pathways, while Christmas ferns and wood asters dot outcroppings.
"These plants are tough as nails," said Brooke M. Beebe, project director of the Native Plant Center at Westchester Community College in Valhalla, which is working with the county.
The investment in converting a landscape to native plants can be substantial. (Westchester County spent $11,000 on plants alone.) But scaling back on chemicals and letting areas grow wild can ultimately cut costs.
At Maple Moor, a sign informs golfers of the county's "environmentally safe, nontoxic" maintenance plan, warning that it "may result in temporary browning of turf." Lonnie Lugo, a Yonkers retiree, did not mind the few imperfections he saw. "It's a great idea," he said, stepping off the 18th green. "If they can practice that, why interrupt nature?"
Managing the expectations of golfers can be a challenge, especially at private clubs where greens appear tweezed to perfection. "The problem in America is the perception that I want my golf course to look just like Augusta National on TV," said Jeff Bolig, a spokesman for the Golf Course Superintendents Association of America in Lawrence, Kan.
To achieve an emerald glow, golf courses still use pesticides. But superintendents say they are applying them more judiciously, spraying only after a problem occurs, treating smaller areas and picking milder chemicals. "Years ago we'd go out with a 24-foot sprayer and just spray the whole place, and probably 98 percent of the area didn't need it," said Mr. Frielinghaus of Glens Falls Country Club.
Some environmentalists like Dr. Blackwelder are pushing for a "totally organic" approach. But golf organizations point to studies showing minimal pesticide runoff from courses, compared with residential neighborhoods.
Superintendents like Joseph Alonzi of Westchester Country Club, in Harrison, N.Y., are frustrated by the persistent image of golf courses as environmental scourges. Certified by Audubon International, his club's 400-acre course — almost half the size of Central Park — is home to wild turkeys and coyotes. "There's a misconception that we go around with moon suits and that the golf course glows at night," he said.