The Oddities of Oakmont

After three days watching the 2025 US Open at Oakmont Country Club, a variety of themes dominate the TV screens of those watching at home. For starters, the Henry C. Fownes layout is certainly as mean and as brutal as advertised, with a two-day, pre-cut total averaging close to +10 (just shy of 150), defined by the over 5-inch rough and a surplus of bunkers awaiting, a majority being near pitch-out. Secondly, NBC seemed to focus a lot of energy and airtime on Interstate 76 running through the middle of the property, dividing holes 2-8 from the rest of the property to the west. Prior to the highway, a railway ran through the property, acting as the main source of transportation to and from the golf course, with the Pennsylvania Turnpike replacing the railway in the late 1940s. Finally, a victim of cameras and the high angles the studios prefer, Oakmont’s character seems to be diminished from the TV towers, with the fairways narrowing between bunkers and greens big and fast, but the at-home visitors unable to grasp the severity of the slopes in the surfaces.

An ugly brute of a golf course.

-Herbert Warren Wind

The 10th at Oakmont Country Club.

If you have had the pleasure of playing Oakmont or attending a US Open there, you know that is not the reality of its layout, for the Turnpike sits at the bottom of the property and either side tilting towards the highway in a half-pipe orientation. From top to bottom, Oakmont’s routing navigates up to 70 feet of elevation change, and there’s never really a level shot throughout the round. Only a rare low-angle camera shot showcases either the severely sloping contour within the green surfaces or the constant topsy-turvy nature of each hole—a shame, for that is what makes Oakmont… Oakmont. The rather rudimentary routing makes full use of the elevation change, with a variety of side hill, uphill, and downhill lies throughout.

Truthfully, Oakmont is a bit of an unusual golf course, one with enough oddities to entertain even the most savvy architecture enthusiasts, and even with all the disservices TV can do for golf architecture, a handful of those moments are evident through a screen. It rightfully holds its place among the blue blood golf courses in America and the world, but in contrast to its contemporaries, there is a sense of amateurism to it, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing.

In 1903, Henry C. Fownes bought the property where Oakmont Country Club resides. A year later, after 150 men and two dozen horses and mules turned the farmland overlooking the Alleghany River into a golf course, its layout opened in 1904, officially opening for play in October of that year. Its architecture was far from complete though, and over the next 40-odd years, both Henry and his son William would tweak the golf course to get it to its final version.

Let the clumsy, the spineless, the alibi artist stand aside. A shot poorly played should be a shot irrevocably lost.

-William Fownes, son of Henry Fownes

The 9th approach, playing back to the clubhouse.

It was William who added the iconic church pew bunkers between the 3rd and 4th holes, making its presence known in the 1935 US Open. Throughout his life, William’s father Henry would watch golfers play his golf course, adding bunkers and hazards where players missed the fairways as he felt the rough didn’t penalize the player enough. Oakmont’s near 40-year evolution is one of the many examples of time being an asset, not a liability in golf architecture, especially if its proprietor or architect has the ability to fiddle with its creation.

It is also part of the reason there’s a sense of oddity—and an overarching theme of amateurism—to the layouts architecture when comparing it to other examples it is frequently rubs shoulders with, such as Shinnecock Hills, Cypress Point, Sand Hills, Fishers Island, and more. At Shinnecock Hills, for example—the 2026 US Open host and a reasonable comparison given both are fundamental to the story of American golf—there is the aura that someone was excellent at their job, and they delivered their magnum opus after years of working away towards it.

By the time William Flynn showed up to Southampton, New York to redesign C.B. Macdonald’s golf course at Shinnecock in 1931, he had already proven himself to be a worthy architect at places like Kittansett, Cascades, and Cherry Hills, but traversing the triangles of Flynn’s routing is the Hamptons hammers home that this, in fact, is his greatest achievement. The playing angles at Shinnecock, all while constantly switching directions across the undulating piece of ground, remain one of the sport’s most dizzying playing experiences, while the putting surfaces reinforce such themes with its slope and contour directing traffic into and around the complexes. Shinnecock feels intentional, as if Flynn worked hard to get the layout to what it is today. Cypress, too, has this feeling: Mackenzie might not have been as far along in his career as Flynn was at Shinnecock, but with Alwoodley and Meadow Club under his belt, and Mackenzie’s artistry on full-display and deliberate artwork on his mind (the bunker edges matching the tree lines in the distance, as an example, or the bunkers behind 13 looking like waves crashing against the rocky shore nearby), it is hard to think anything but Mackenzie’s efforts were that of an expert at work.

Oakmont, on the other hand, feels somewhat random and scattered, as if the Fownes family simply tweaked to their liking, without much thought on the profession of golf course architecture. Perhaps this is its biggest advantage: many of the famed layouts of the British Isles were not intentionally built and designed by a person carrying the title of golf course architect. Instead, they evolved over time, with a handful of names contributing to the overall product, but at the beginning they generally evolved from nature or a locally celebrated golfer. Similar to C.B. Macdonald at The National Golf Links of America, Fownes fell in love with golf overseas, intending Oakmont to capture the spirit of Scotland and links golf whilst presenting a much more demanding test than other golf courses in the area. Its presentation for the US Open might make that hard to see, but with a majority of the greens open for run-up shots, its contour in and around the greens, and the number of on-grade surfaces working away from the line of play, the intent is there.

The opening approach shot at Oakmont falls 35 feet, with its putting surface sloping away from the line of play.

Oakmont undoubtedly benefits from the oddity of its layout as it sees multiple themes, stylistic choices, and features throughout the routing. Take the bunkers as an example, where it might not be uncommon to encounter the Church Pews on 3 or 4, the “mini pews” on the 15th, a big, grassed-down bunker face somewhere else, or an unevenly deep, artistic bunker face (albeit still grassed-down) all in the same round. Even a trench-style bunker awaits left of 16, to add to the chaos. They might not be sand hazards, but the ditches play a pivotal role in this, also, and especially when bridging the gap between modern day Oakmont and the Fownes intent on creating an inland links.

Likewise, the variety within the green complexes is somewhat eclectic, never really subscribing to the same school of thought. Surfaces like the 1st, 3rd, 8th, 9th, 10th, 16th-18th are far more conservative in shape than the 2nd, 4th, 5th, and 13th, which feature tongues, wings, pockets, and unique edges and shapes. Greens like that at the 6th, 12th, 14th, and 15th do their best to blend the two, but even still, it is an odd set of putting surfaces. The surroundings are equally fascinating, as some sit on-grade into the landscape, others protrude out to create sharp drop-offs, while beach-like bunkers surround the occasional green. There’s a wide array of genres within the contour on the actual putting greens as well. Some feature a more gradual tilt like the 1st, 3rd, and 6th, while others are rollicking in nature (4th, 18th). They’re about as diverse and unique as anything in golf, for this reason.

Photo credit: US Open Golf

Part of the eclectic nature of Oakmont could be explained with Gil Hanse & Jim Wagner’s renovation. With the long history of either Henry or William Fownes tweaking the golf course over their lifespans, Hanse/Wagner selected the best version of each hole from that time period, rather than selecting a specific year to restore to. Even so, Oakmont’s uniqueness is how original it is, and the result is a fascinating golf course that feels like a compilation of their “Greatest Hits.” Rather than the feeling of Oakmont being the Fownes family’s magnum opus, it feels as if it’s the Fownes’ passion project—a look into their psyche of what they liked at the time, and how it evolved while they were tweaking their baby. It’s as if we get a look into the songwriting process of a famous musician, watching them put together their debut album with a variety of concepts to expand on later (in the case of the Fownes, it was never expanded on, making it all the more captivating).

That, in itself, is a unique experience, and one that with each passing month following a round at Oakmont, and with each US Open round displayed on TV, becomes so much more intriguing to think about. Shinnecock Hills and Cypress Point, among others, might feel as if someone concocted the perfect cocktail for their respective properties, but Oakmont is the result of two mad scientists throwing concepts against the wall to see what sticks. Thankfully, nearly all of it works well and in harmony with the rest of the golf course—there may be a bit of an oddity to the layout, but nothing truly feels out of place, and even if it may not feel like a Chef-d’œuvre, it is apparent that Oakmont is, and its place is rightfully secured, amongst the truly elite venues in the game of golf.

The third at Oakmont, with the famous Church Pew bunkers lining the left side.