We have arrived without incident.
After an overnight at Halifax airport, we grabbed our rental car and drove the 3 1/2 hours to Cabot. The drive itself is uneventful, only as we approached Cape Breton Island did the water reveal itself. And those views weren't all that spectacular, saving the wows for the resort's own.
The headline from the day was the weather, nothing less than perfect. Bluebird skies with temps in the mid to upper seventies and just a wee breeze, so a man's thoughts turn towards ..... well, in my case, golf. When I was a younger man.... but that's not important now.
We hadn't planned to play on our arrival day, but you humble correspondent had been scheming for a few days now.... Before we get to the eye candy, here's a photo of the accommodations:
It's all this genre of two story unassuming structures, built specifically so that all rooms look over the golf course and towards the water.
Amusingly, each door is inscribed with a golf-related quotation, this being our very own portal:
You'd think he'd been playing Fairview the last few months....
The resort's driving range is at the Cliffs, with shuttle bus service to and fro.... This round was intended to be a bonus, so a few moments chipping and putting were the extent of our commitment. Those facilities were underwhelming, so we mostly milled around soaking up the sunshine. A fourball had teed off when we first rolled our pushcarts down, but a lag in groups ensued fro twenty minutes or so, raising the issue of whether I should ask the starter about getting us off early.
Then a group of men and caddies arrived, and my radar immediately dove into the red zone, as I recognized Mike Keiser. They had seven, and were arranging themselves into two groups when Keiser asked the starter whether we were a twosome, and suggested that we go first.
He said something about us being here to move as opposed to lollygagging about, and I clarified for him that my role the next few days is to be Employee No. 2's bitch. He also pointed out the chocolate chip cookies always available on the first tee, always the consummate host. Idiot that I am, I missed the opportunity to get a photo with one of my heroes.... We did see him later having a drink before dinner, but we weren't about to get between a man and his beverage of choice....
The first few holes were delightful, as we had nothing but open ground in front of us. The third hole featured a field of wild flowers off to the right:
On that same hole, Madam had her first spot of bother:
This is that third green looking back towards town and the lodges:
One crosses a road early in the routing, a road we would later find on our way to the beach. This is that fourball on the sixth hole:
This is one of their more famous holes, a right-to-left dogleg with an infinity green in front of a small marina.
Here's that rather photographic green complex:
The resort seems so authentic that they've even arranged for their own version of Ailsa Craig or Glashedy Rock in the background:
That first fourball was nice enough to allow us to play through. But no sooner had we done so then we hit a wall of golfers. As a twosome one expects it to be slow, but this was glacial.... After waiting twenty minutes on the 11th tee, Madam began agitating for a walk-off, and it was hard to argue with that.
It served its purpose for acclimating us to conditions. In general, we both hit the ball reasonably well, but were clueless on the greens. Speed kills, as they say, and despite a scouting report that the greens are slow, we mostly had the opposite issue. That will be our challenge for today, as the serious golf ensues.
We made that aforementioned trip to the beach, and Madam did the full plunge:
Surprisingly warm was her scouting report.... though the beach itself was quite rocky:
It appears to be the Northumberland Strait, well protected from the Atlantic Ocean:
That black marker arrow is Inverness.
Over that pre-dinner cocktail, we discussed the terms of engagement for the forthcoming matches. I typically link to this post from Ballylffin days for an historical perspective on our matches. Though we do have an issue that I'll need to investigate further... She was advised to play the orange tees by the starter, as "most women do". I did, however, note that those tees are a paltry 4,900 yards, clearly insufficient for a woman of her skills.
When I noted this concern to her, I found her response a bit....well, dismissive:
Not so fast there, young lady....She's also requested that we add junk to our repertoire, a request that I'm more than happy to grant. I did have two birds in our eleven holes of play yesterday, so perhaps she thinks I peaked early....
The astute observer will have noticed that the resort faces due West, which delivered the goods at sunset:
And groups continued to play in long after sunset:
They kept coming for another hour, the 18th green being illuminated for nighttime putting contests and the like.
The colors were quite extraordinary, the water itself featuring vivid bands of aqua that the camera fails to adequately capture:
We slept with our sliding door open, enjoying the sounds and aromas of the seashore. Today promises to be equally beautiful, so I'll check back in with 'all later.
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