On the day I played last fall, I turned to the back nine with rain clouds gathering, smoke blowing around from a brush fire somewhere nearby, and the blues of the sky fading quickly. My goal was to get through that half with a complete set of photos, as I don't know that I'll ever return (but who wouldn't wish to return?) Oh, to have been Juli Simpson...understandable how her training at that golf course led to three women's amateur titles.
The par four holes on the front were a warm-up for what I faced on the back. At 10, that carry over the first barranca was daunting enough, then I took in the carry over (or the work around) the bunker barranca front and left of the green (mainly the entire left side of the approach fairway.) I would guess that the visual grows on members, but what a place to pick an approach target. I imagine first-timers who easily could come off the front nine, somewhere betweeen 36 and 40, imagining a career round, then comes the inward half.
Although 16 might have been a favorite of Mac, i could understand if he confused it often with 11, or 12, or let's keep going with back-nine, two-shot holes. What a neat hole is eleven. I had to rush through it and 12, as a couple let me through on 10, whence I found myself catching up to a foursome of shelled reptiles on 11 green. Awkward moment...stay...go...stay...go. I opted to play out 11, then skip ahead on 12 (missed it sadly but photographed it gladly) and on to 13 (hearty and hardy) ...then 14 (marvelous) then 15 (magical little sprite hidden among the trees!) and before I knew it, I was at 16.
Fact is, I had forgotten that green, as the tee shot was completely blind. Up and over I went and then there was that green. Like an archaeologist crashing through trees, I was upon the temple before I was aware of its existence. I would have putted there for days, or at least until the shells caught up, but those rain clouds were sponges and I was still needy.
A hole like 17 is a wonderful thing. You shouldn't "get" a course (or a woman, or a man) on first or even second glance. Where's the fascination in that? The nervous and the antsy might wish to discharge control with immediacy, but the remaining few (or many?) of us, who still hold wonderment as a tenet, a commandment, opt for the sweet alternative. I didn't get 17 at all, had no time to reconsider it, for there was 18, which photographs quite well in great light (I've seen) and with difficulty in shoddy illumination (I experienced) so I had to work at my angles. There are many. I hit two tee shots well, found neither of them, but escaped with a nearly-complete set of photos and an estimation for Mac courses.
Since I was unable to access any of his private dens out west, the wonderful pastime will do for now, and perhaps forever.