Tales From The Road - St. Enodoc

WiFi hell continues, despite a change in venue to the lovely fishing village of Instow, Devonshire.  More on that in a bit....

We flew from Gatwick to Newquay in North Cornwall on Friday afternoon.  Our flight was delayed some three hours, and the scene at the Hertz counter was reminiscent of Monty Python at their finest.  The poor young lad was earnest, if not especially competent, but we finally found our new home in the seaside village of Rock. just up the road from St. Enodoc Golf Club.

Our game was in the afternoon, so after an LDL-intensive English breaky, we made our way to the quaint seaside town of Port Isaac.   Innkeeper Trudie had suggested leaving the car at the first carpark, it being a summer weekend in Cornwall, and we descended to town on the walking path.

Stone buildings with flower pots were the rule, though this took me by surprise:

Peace be upon the prophet....  I know immigration has been lax, but in Port Isaac?

We also drove through the equally quaint village of Padstow, directly across Daymer Bay from Rock.  We realized that we erred in not taking the little ferry that makes the cross all day.

Then off to St, Enodoc, one of those names typically uttered in reverential tones by those in the know.  Originally laid out in 1907 (the club itself dates back to the 1890's), Braid himself substantially revised it in 1936.  Not uncommon for the original architect to make changes, but the 21-year gap is notable.  

Enodoc is located on bluffs overlooking Daymer Bay and the Irish Sea, with spectacular vistas.  A sunny, blustery day and linksville is seldom finer, though sleep has been at a premium.  Enodoc's Church Course (they have a second course for beginners, and one must meet a handicap test to play the big boy) comes right at you opening with a stout three-shotter.  For us the opening tee shot of our trip was dead into, and you'll not need to ask into what....  My own was fanned to the right, so mere moments after teeing off I was climbing the dunes....  Careful what you wish for and all.

But the first offers one of those marvelously rumpled fairways, remiscent of the Old Links at Ballyliffin:

The third features a blind tee shot with only an aiming post, and more of those hills, humps, hollows, hillocks and other h-words that escape me in the moment:

With a (partially) stone wall diagonally crossing the fairway, that Theresa had to carry on her third:

We were provided two women caddies, Celia and Lynn, a first for us, the former throwing my bag on her powered trolley.  They were delightful company and we had many laughs out there, though even Celia would admit that she couldn't help much with club selection.  But I took a photo of her in front of the livestock, and she brilliantly quipped, "What, you want a photo of this old cow in front of those old cows?"  You can see where we got on, and I also loved the bod English in her lines off the tee:

That blue sky is quite the rarity.

St. Enodoc is probably best known for the Himalaya bunker on the sixth hole, which looks like this from the tee:

That's the green visible to the left, though the fairways takes the player on a line where he's need to clear the bunker.  My primary sources for the golf on this trip were Tom Doak's revised Confidential Guide to Golf Course and James Finnegan.  The former estimated the bunker at forty feet high, whereas the latter guessed 75 feet....  I was inclined towards the former, until seeing it in the flesh....

I pushed my drive a bit right, and here's Celia with the lean:

God I love how seriously she took each shot!  Hard to tell on the 2-dimensional photo, but it's a downhill hanging lie, far from optimal for the required elevation.  I had the bride take a video of my shot, which was quite the epic fail (the video fortunately, not the shot):

It cleared with no drama, leaving me just short of the green, which is tucked in between the dunes.  It got ugly form there, but no need to dwell....

When we arrived at the tenth tee, Lynn announced that we were about to play their signature hole.  "Really," I inquired, "I thought that was Number six with the "Himalaya bunker?"  "No," she responded, "that's our signature bunker. "  Noted....

I do think I could play that signature hole all summer without making a par....  I left my drive on a dune, where were lucky to find it, and chipped to where you'd leave your once in a decade best drive.  I had two hundred yards into a breeze with the green hidden behind vegetation, thus requiring a thirty-yard draw.  Good luck with that....

Your humble correspondent and Employee No. 2 in front of the church from whence the club and curse take their names.

Our golf ladies, Celia on the left and Lynn on the right.

I can easily see why Tom Doak calls St. Enodoc one of his favorite places in golf.  There are views of the water from most every hole, and the ground offers great opportunities for the placement of tees and especially greens.  The holes offer every variety of shot, though it's not needlessly penal.  In fact, Celia told me that the club, at Doak's suggestion, had cut back large swaths of penal long rough.  I certainly was a beneficiary of that, but I think it a very wise move.  No need to be too punitive with your members, as it's a charming track with plenty of challenge as one approaches the greens.

A wonderful day, as it's always a pleasure when a place such as this lves up to its billing....  Lucky members are those at St. Enodoc.

Mare later, WiFi willing.