On the flight from Denver to North Platte we meet some fellows from California who, just like us, are here to meet up with friends from across the country, at Sand Hills.
So, we land in North Platte, meet up with RJ Daley and others, stay overnight and drive to play Wild Horse the next morning.
Interstate 80 is at the base of the foothills, as are the railroad tracks that run East & West.
North Platte has one of the, if not THE largest rail yards in the U.S.
When you exit I-80 to go to Wild Horse, you have to cross the railroad tracks.
It’s not unusual for trains with 200+ cars loaded with coal to delay your ability to cross the tracks.
Just when you get excited because you can see the Caboose on the train that’s taken forever to pass in front of you, another train with 200+ cars comes along in the other direction, further delaying your trip. I believe that Nebraska might even have a law intended to limit the amount time you can be delayed at a crossing. I don’t know how they’d inforce that law, but, when the crossing gate goes up, you zoom across the tracks, always afraid that another train with 200+ cars will be come along and delay you further. I saw this happen when the line of cars waiting to cross was long and some of the drivers slow on the peddle.
We finally make it to Wild Horse, where the Nebraska State Amateur is being conducted concurrently. We play the golf course, and, to the man, everyone is impressed and loves the place. If time had permitted, we would have played another 18. Some, including Tom Paul, followed a few holes of the Semi-finals or Finals of the tournament. In one match, a young, former USC scholarship golfer was paired against a high school kid who absolutely bombed the ball with 300+ yard drive. TEPaul was waxing poetic, if not euphoric about this 17 year old phenomenon. That’s when I decided that I would not room with TEPaul, wisely choosing George Bahto instead.
We left Wild Horse, but, couldn’t stop talking about it in our long drive to Sand Hills.
Once you leave the flats just north of North Platte and begin your ascent to Sand Hills, the terrain transitions into an unlimited haven for natural golf courses. The abundance of natural blow-outs, hills and undulating ground would allow for an unlimited amount of golf courses. After many hours of driving, without seeing another car on the road, we finally make our turn into Sand Hills.
As we make our turn into Sand Hills, TEPaul is still talking about the 17 year old high school phenomenon, reconfirming my roommate selection.
We arrive at Sand Hills and check in. I’m pleasantly surprised by the physical plant, it’s low key, modern and comfortable. George Bahto is my roommate. Ran Morrissett is TEPaul’s roommate. I think to myself, hmmm Ran looks pretty young for his age, but, not quite 17.
We have cocktails, where we meet Dick Youngscap, the founder, owner and driving force behind this wonderful club. He’s most hospitable, downright gracious, answering all our questions and filling us in on details known only to him. One of the fascinating details is how the cost of land in those parts is determined by how much land it takes to support a cow and her calf. And, how he ended up pruchasing the land that Sand Hills sits on, and then, more land which Coore & Crenshaw thought was essential to designing the best course posible.
Then we have dinner at a large table that sat a party of 12+ quite comfortably.
California is well represented with Tom Huckaby and Bob Huntley. We have a great time at dinner. The food is great, the servers attractive and efficient, the wine flows freely as do our conversations. We tell stories, golf and non-golf and just have a great time. Even though many of us have never met before, we become instant friends.
I run into some folks I know from New Jersey and Pennsylvania, who, like us, are also meeting up with friends from across the country for golf and comraderie in this splendid setting. There group and our group also hit it off. There's a common bond with everyone, golf, and that bond makes us all, instant comrades.
We walk outside after dinner, and before we head back to our rooms, look up into the sky.
It’s magnificent, there’s not a cloud in the sky, the air is crystal clear and the sky is filled with millions upon millions of stars. It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen. Because there’s no ambient light, it’s basically pitch black, therefore, stars that otherwise go unseen, are shining in all their glory.
It seems as though you could reach up and pluck the stars from the sky, they seem so bright and so close.
Now, we head back to our rooms.
As I’m putting the key in the door I hear a familiar voice yelling.
It’s quite a commotion.
It appears as though Ran’s roommate, TEPaul, left every light on in their room, which isn’t such a big deal. Unfortunately, he also left the doors and windows open and every bug within 50 miles was now inhabiting their room.
TEPaul claims that he left the back sliding door and back windows open so that he could listen to the sounds of the stream that was behind their cabin.
Of course, TEPaul is impervious to bugs. He smokes constantly, sometimes with three or more cigarettes in his mouth at the same time, Hence, there’s not a bug that will go within 20 feet of him. Ran, on the other hand, represented a free meal, fresh meat from North Carolina, and was set upon by swarm after swarm when he entered the room. TEPaul’s solution to the problem was to tell Ran that he should start smoking.
As we returned to our cabin, I couldn’t help but think how lucky I had been in making my roommate selection.
The next morning at breakfast, Ran was covered in Calamine lotion and looked like a pin cushion.
The golf part of the story will follow.