Crail Golfing Society - Microblogging Edition

As presaged pre-departure, my challenge this trip is to find something of interest to blog.  You'll be the judge of how that pans out, but it likely will include less blogging and more photos, although I've been taking far fewer of those.

Since I checked in Sunday morning, we've played the Balcomie on Sunday and the Craighead on Monday.  As always, the ceremonial opening drives are memorialized:

Astute observes will immediately focus on the bare legs, we have again been blessed with that which Employee No. 2 calls Scott Simpson weather.  Of course, one doesn't get cocky on this subject, it can turn on a dime.

For those unfamiliar with this venue, the Crail Golfing Society dates back to 1786, and is the seventh oldest golf club in the world:

Good gentlemen seems redundant, but whatev....

That building visible in the shot of Theresa has a wee bit of history as well:

Lifeboat Shed

Still standing proudly today at the back of the 14th green and casting a shadow over the 2nd tee box of the Balcomie Links is a unique stone building. This was the Crail Lifeboat House that operated between 1884 to 1923.

We love the Balcomie, though it does present some challenges, not least being pace of play.  I call it the Old Course Mini-me, because it shares some genetic material with that moat famous of links, most notable one double green.  This is a helpful warning sign on the second tee:

It's even crazier than depicted, because to the left of the 11th fairway is the 9th, though that's a bit out of range from the second tee.  We did well with tee times this year, most being around 10:00, the first member times each day.  That means that, not only will there be lots of targets in these fairways, but they'll be visitors who likely have little clue where they're going (excepting those with caddies).  It's quite crazy, but in an amusing manner.  But you can see how difficult it is to et folks around, and then factor in the short Par-4's such as the seventh, where the green is blind and one needs to wait until the group ahead reaches the 8th tee.

Whatever the Balcomie's shortcomings, they certainly don't include a shortage of eye candy:

This is from the elevated seventh tee:

Those folks are on the Fife Coastal Path:

Linking the Forth and Tay Estuaries, the Fife Coastal Path runs for over 183km though the varied landscapes of Fife. The route links some of Scotland's most picturesque former fishing villages as well as the home of golf - St Andrews with its ancient University. In between are miles of golden beaches, attractive woods and nature reserves but the route also threads its way through industrial towns such as Kirkcaldy and Leven. History is everywhere, from the winding gear of the former coalyards to ruined castles and the pictish and prehistoric carvings in the Wemyss caves.

A map of the route can be found at that link, and their top photo is amusingly of our beloved Pittenweem, a shot you've seen several hundred times in the last three years.  But golf here often includes sharing the land with the public, which is largely quite a nice thing.  

The golf itself was modestly interesting, though I might be setting the bar a bit low here.  Theresa hit the ball beautifully all day, though her husband had a more mixed day.  I lost three balls, quite unusual on the Balcomie and a troubling trend line in terms of supply adequacy.  However, I did have two eagle putts, my typical metric for fun (three being my personal best).  Don't be overly impressed, as the first came from driving the 7th green, a mere 273-yards from the yellow members' tees I played (but substantially downhill).  Damn near made the eagle putt, but fortunately made the six-footer coming back for the bird.  The second eagle putt came on Par-5 11th, which is 427-yards and benefits from the prevailing winds, though I suspect I'll move to the back (white) tees tomorrow, which stretches the course to a massive 5,861 yards.

I had mentioned that our nephew was to visit, and he arrived and settled himself while we played.  Ryan is a street musician these days, you'll find him busking on the streets of Vienna.  He comes for the Edinburgh Fringe Festival, playing a late-night set at a bar there (far too late and far for his Uncle and Aunt to attend).  We made a quick visit to the tidal pool:

You'll let me know when you tire of photos of the tidal pool.

A beautiful Scottish day (oxymoron alert) has us dining al fresco:

We don't let those opportunities pass, because they're few and far between.

On Monday we played the Craighead, and Ryan joined us for the walk.  The camera didn't make too many appearances, though I did capture the bride's escape from a nasty bunker twenty yards short of the Par-3 fifth green:

Ryan though he was just there for a walk, but Theresa started handing him her driver to give our ancient game a go, with amusing results such as this from the Par-3 seventh:

This is one I really should spend some time figuring out to crop, to ensure you can pick up the golf ball.  This, kids, is why in buying a home on a golf course, we avoid the right side of the hole.

Now, lest you think I'm being cruel, a couple of caveats:

1. Ryan is not a golfer and this was his first time on an actual golf course, plus:
2. Were Ryan to be a golfer, he would be a left-handed one.

You see the degree of difficulty, and he actually squared up the club face on a later attempt.  So we're not giving up on him and I think he was intrigued by the game a bit.

The only golf I'll bore you with is my two-hole yin-yang sequence at Nos. 13 and 14.  No. 13 is a modest Par-3 that looks quite benign in the Course Guide:

That warning is quite appropriate, as the prevailing wind is right-to-left, which is quite a bad fit with the draw spin.  The last few times through I've been unable to keep my ball out of the Firth of Forth, yesterday being no exception.  I'll try to get a better photo, but far right of the image above is the ball washer for the 14th tee, and I've long joked that that should be my start line.  I may have to Billy Casper it, and lay up with a sand wedge.

Perhaps this cropped image will help:

First, note the ball washer.  But secondly, easy enough to think one should align further right, but notice where you'd be aimed.  I think seriously need to aim at the grassy knoll, but with two less clubs than needed to reach the green.  But that could well leave me with the most dreaded shot in Scotland, the soft pitch from a tight lie over a cavernous bunker....  Really, what could go wrong?

But I made my first par ever on the daunting No. 14, which I call the Florida Hole:

The direct line to the pin from a well-placed drive shows a forced carry to the green and, unless you're especially long off the tee, probably would be a shot that wouldn't hold the green in any event.  I think their guidance is slightly off, in that the aim point on the second is not the green at all, but the approach that kicks all balls left.  I pulled off both shots perfectly, leaving myself a long, downhill putt from the fringe, but to me that's as well as one can do.

We put Ryan on a bus to Edinburgh after an early dinner, and today is an off today of marketing and relaxation.  As I've just been reminded, it is time to get on with our day, so we'll catch up down the road.