It's a gloomy Thursday morning in the Kingdom of Fife, although the uncannily prescient Met Office indicates it will resolve into a perfectly fine day, one in which the bride and I have little planned. Except of course, for a hearty breaky and helping our dear friends get on the road home.
We strolled the Craighead under a beautiful, cerulean sky and, given the relatively modest wind in which we played, a substantial amount of ammunition was left behind. I certainly contributed more than my share, losing my tee ball on the first two holes. That's the thing about the Craighead, on which Gil Hanse gives us plenty of room to spray our shots. The kicker, though, is that when you miss, it's the death penalty, in this case long, thick stuff that are referred to as whins.
It should be added that on rock-hard links turf one needs self-discipline in not complimenting a partner's shot until it comes to a rest, because they'll run forever. John loved the Balcomie, which most visitors will feel features narrow playing corridors, because he felt there was little penalty for spraying the ball. And both things are simultaneously true....
I've accumulated some open tabs, one of which relates to this point. Mike Bamber wrote this fun "Postcards From" piece that's worth a moment, retracing many of his prior Scottish experiences captured in his engaging To The Linksland. In one 'graph, Mike had this comment on the Old Course:
On that Sunday after Open Sunday, people were all over the course and on the beach and the beach paths. The Old Course is narrow and compact and parts of it run along St. Andrews Bay. Such a bland name. In my mind, it’s a sea.
But a bit later in the piece:
A week earlier the Old Course was open for business on a Sunday. A rarity. Her wide corridors were dotted with players, caddies, camera operators, officials and police officers.
Got it. Narrow and compact, yet wide.... It might sound Orwellian in that "War is peace" kind of way, but Mike is correct in both cases, and the Balcomie shares many characteristics with the Old Course, including that one double green. The flow of traffic is through narrow corridors, hence the 6-hour round in the Open, but because of the out-and-back routing the player has multiple fairways onto which he can spray his shots.
Though, of course, there's more luck involved here than at home, as what happens after ball meets turf has the widest array of possible outcomes. I specifically remember that first round I played on the Balcomie a week ago today, where I was hitting it as well as I can, driving two Par-4's and reaching one Par-5 in two, yielding a nice number on a card. And yet, as well I was hitting it, there were at least 3-4 shots that seemed destined for bunkers that miraculously avoided said pits, and therein lies the difference between joy and tragedy.
Our collective golf wasn't of the highest caliber, though that's admittedly at least partially a function of the longer, more difficult Craighead. We played the Balcomie Tuesday at +/- 5,400 yards, which will strike the American reader as being from the Family tees, but the Craighead at 6,200 yards. John had won Tuesday's comp with 44 Stableford points, and at one point I joked that the four of us might not post 44 points collectively....
The only time the camera came out of the bag was on the 11th hole, when Theresa and John positioned their drives just short of Dane's Dyke. Theresa pulled off her shot without incident:
If you didn't know better, you'd be looking for the ball on the green. Unfortunately it was headed north at this point, whereas the target was due south. I can poke John on this one, because that worst-case scenario occurred, in which John's double-or-nothing bet paid off. Harrumph!
He closed it out in style, one must begrudgingly concede, with a stylish par at the difficult finishing hole, although his bogey at the brutal Par-3 17th might have been more notable. Cash was exchanged and tribute paid over dinner at the Dreel Tavern, and I can only hope that sound of gnashing teeth was inaudible.
Theresa and I are grateful that we could show Elsie and John Crail, especially the Balcomie in light of the dire Tuesday weather forecast. While Crail presented with some issues, it presented most favorably for our guests. Pace-of-play on the Balcomie was quite acceptable, and both days included no noise pollution from the adjoining motor track. A home run indeed, with the obvious exception of the competitive outcome, not that I'm bitter....
Sitting in the club's bar, John or Elsie suggested something unimaginable to your humble blogger, that we walk to the Dreel. It's only in Anstruther, the next town over, but what a great idea on such a fine early evening, not least because the only thing wrong with the Dreel is the parking situation. Off we trundled onto the Fife Coastal Path and onto that funky Anstruther Golf Club course, and this time I found their famous Par-3, The Rockies.
Rockies - 245 yards Par 3
Voted the toughest par 3 in the UK by Today's Golfer in September 2007 this is definitely a card wrecker. From the elevated tee you must hit the ball onto the small fairway which is guarded on the right by a steep gorse and rough covered bank and on the left by the firth of forth which is out of bounds.
The more adventurous golfer can go for the green but a knowe that obscures half of the green makes this an extremely difficult and high risk shot. Best results are achieved by playing it as a par 4.
We called a taxi for the trip home, not the easiest task we amusingly discovered. First, we discovered that placing a phone call from within the old stone walls of the Dreel to be well nigh impossible. Then the taxi operator whose card the Dreel gave us just happened to be on vacation this week, perhaps overworked during the Pittenweem Arts Festival.
Ultimately we found a cab to take us home, the driver of which imparted all sorts of amusing color en route. A motorcyclist was right on our tail, and our driver of course knew exactly who it was, a 55-year old man that she described as having a Peter Pan, in the never grow up mode. Amusing although, given our alcohol consumption, we might have been an easy audience.
We have just now hugged Elsie and John goodbye, and they are on their way back to Strathpeffer. There are golf bags to be packed up, but all in good time. I might do a notebook dump post of all the bits that I didn't get to, but that likely will have to await our arrival home. And, with a full slate of weekend golf planned, there's also a possibility that I'll lose interest before an opportunity presents.
But we've had a grand adventure, with incidents like Air Tag-gate and a certain hand injury seemingly from a past lifetime. The itinerary couldn't have been more perfect, with the visits with Elsie and John (and Dace, Ross and, especially, Sebastian) opening and closing the trip so perfectly. In trying to thank John for our wonderful stay at Nutwood Cottage, he responded along the lines of, "What are you talking about, we didn't do anything." All the better if it felt like nothing, but it meant everything to us.
I'll catch up with you, Dear Reader, from the other side.
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