#224 The Beauty in Golf

SAD NOTE: I recently learned that a good Scottish friend, Andrew Cuthbert, passed due to losing a fight with an extended medical issue.

Go in peace, my friend, you will be missed.

THE BEAUTY IN GOLF

My swing and my game may not be part of the beauty of golf, but there is much in golf that has always been beautiful: the courses (landscapes), the wildlife, the views from the courses (landscapes and seascapes), and the challenges we try to conquer. This post is dedicated to all those golfers and duffers who are cleaning their clubs (or buying new ones) and getting ready to challenge the golf overlords to another nine or eighteen holes. To add perspective to my thoughts on the beauty of golf I will start with a story that’s rather ugly.

  I Can’t Believe They’d Do That

At one time golf was almost exclusively a man’s game.  Women came to golf kicking and screaming...at the men. Rosie the Riveter played an important role in opening up the game of golf to women.  With all the men gone to war and the women at home doing the traditional man’s work, golf courses became more accepting of the women.  For some places, though, tradition dies hard.

Luffness New is a venerable bastion of the male golfing society.  The course is an interesting links design well worth playing, but the club is an example of the old, stuffy Scottish chauvinist attitude.  We had golf arranged, but I couldn’t go into the bar to check in because I wasn’t wearing a coat and tie.  They checked me in through a side door to the bar.  The club secretary, a woman no less, was willing to meet me in the foyer and tell me about the course.  She was not, however, willing to let Anne, a lady, into the clubhouse through the main entrance where the secretary’s office was.  Anne had to stand outside in the cold wind while the secretary and I talked in the warm entry way.  Anne could go into the lady’s locker room, a closet-sized room with small bench, through the women’s toilet from the outside. The club was eager to have us write about their course, but made us pay for a course guide and the club’s history--items most other courses will give us.  When we played, the course had no tee boxes for ladies--Anne was told to tee off from somewhere in front of the men’s tees.  The score card had no handicap or distances for lady players.

After golf, as I reviewed the club literature bought by me from the secretary, I came across two interesting comments.  First, the course says, “Guests will be put at ease by the quiet friendliness of the members.”  The friendliness was so quiet Anne never heard it.  Second, “Where wives play for free.”  Of course, who’d pay for that kind of treatment?   

The Luffness New course is high quality and fun to play, but the club’s attitude left much to be desired -- such as 100 years of progress!

THE COURSES (In this post almost exclusively Scottish courses.)

Boat of Garten GC in whisky country highlands is a lovely heathland course designed by famed golfer James Braid. It plays at the edge of the Cairngorm Mountains and winds through birch forests. Fun to play anytime of year, it is particularly lovely in spring.

Hopeman GC is set along the Morayshire coast east of Inverness. The links course is particularly spectacular when the gorse or Scotch broom is blooming.

Shiskine GC is a twelve hole course on the west coast of Isle Arran in the Kilbrannan Sound and the Firth of Clyde. The course’s dramatic setting and unique holes make it a true hidden gem.

St Fillans GC in central Scotland has been named Scotland’s Best Nine-hole Course. Set in the hills of the highlands, the course looks easy but will give a challenge to golfers of any level.

Abernethy GC in the highlands is another nine-hole small village (Nethy Bridge) course with a beautiful setting. The course also has a World War I memorial in play in the center of the 8th fairway,

WILDLIFE ON THE COURSES

A  non-Scottish example of golf course wildlife is this cactus wren that we saw while playing in Arizona.

At Macrihanish Dunes GC, near Campbeltown on the Mull of Kintyre, we hired forecaddy Owen Morgan to guide us around the wild links course. Owen was a wonderful help, particularly to Anne who followed his directions better than know-it-all me. He is just one of many golf course staff who made our Scottish, Irish, and Welsh writing adventures so successful. 

We often asked clubs to find us playing partners—locals who could help guide us around the course and gives us some of insider stories. Every time we got paired with local members or club officers was a great experience, We also, as members of a Scottish course (St Fillans GC) found out we could enter local competitions and meet locals that way, That’s how we met Colvend GC (near Kirkcudbright on the Solway Firth) secretary Roger Bailey and his wife Wendy, who became fast friends. Meeting new people who shared our love of golf was always beautiful.

I became part of the wildlife of Scotland when I represented the US in a flag raising ceremony for the Ryder Cup matches at Glen Eagles in 2014. I raised the American flag and St Fillans club manager Gordon Hibbert raised the flag for the European team. St Fillans GC was one of the official viewing clubs for the matches.

THE VIEW FROM THE COURSES

The view that Anne teed off to at one hole on the Stromness GC (Orkney Islands off the north coast of Scotland) was from Mainland (the name of the largest Orkney island) across the Bring Sound to Graemsay Island and Hoy behind. Spectacular!

Stirling Castle is the dramatic view from Stirling GC. Here is where much of the formative history of Scotland took place, including the real story of Braveheart.

From the Castle Course (the newest of St Andrews’ seven courses) there is a grand view over to the lovely historic city of St Andrews.

On the Outer Hebrides island of Lewis and Harris Anne and I had this view from the Harris GC and we had the course to ourselves—we didn’t have to share the view with anyone.

THE CHALLENGE OF THE GAME

There can be many distraction in the game of golf vying for your attention—a fox on the fairway, two golfers arguing on the next tee, sheep or cows loose on the course—but most dramatic were the jets. We’ve been buzzed by jets on many courses, but Moray Old and New GC the NATO jets take off and land within a five iron shot over your head. You simply cannot ignore them.

The challenges of the game are part of its beauty and one of the beautiful challenges I will always cherish is the shot across the Atlantic ocean that is the last hole at Durness GC in the far northwest corner of Scotland. Durness’s last is never without wind and even if it’s a short shot which should be easy, the Atlantic crossing does play with your mind.

Bunkers, aka sand traps, are a challenge on any course, but un Scotland there are some real beauties. There’s one bunker on the 17th hole at an Old Tom Morris designed course in the middle of the Tay River in the middle of the city of Perth that is truly storied. Locals tell stories about bringing golfers meals each night to see if they have gotten out of the bunker yet.

The weather is another challenge integral to the art of playing golf. Anne, adventurous woman that she is, has played along with me in some horrific conditions—winds to 50mph, rain in sheets, snow stacking up on the greens, 116 degree heat in Vegas, etc. On one trip to Orkney Island GC the wind was 20 mph plus and the temperature was 37 degrees and Anne chose to be forecaddy instead of playing partner. Arctic Anne.

And what are the rewards for all this pain suffering called golf? The beauty of the course, the wonderful people we’ve met, the beautiful view, the sense of accomplishment when we face down a challenge (get out of a laddered bunker in one shot). And if we’re lucky we may get to hold or see a real trophy like the British Open Claret Jug we saw at a competition at St Andrews Old Course.

NEXT: Some Old Art  

 

#223 Coos and Sheep

 

#223 Coos and Sheep

This post is dedicated to two iconic animals associated with Scotland. Besides the well known castles, kilts, and wild highland haggis, Scotland is known for its highland cows (hei’lan coos) and its abundant sheep with their darling lambs. The long-coated highland cattle and fuzzy sheep are particularly favorites of tourists—including myself. So, this post brings you a couple of stories from my travel book and many photos from my files. I sincerely hope you enjoy both.

These two weren't friendly as they guarded an ancient stone circle near Loch Ness.

Near Bushmill Distillery in Northern Ireland.

One of the more unusual varieties of highland sheep--Boreray, I think.

Saw these two lambs on our way to Machrie Moor on the Isle of Arran off Scotland's Ayrshire coast. They were as interested in me as I was in them.

First a little background. Scottish highland cattle are considered a rustic hearty breed effectively bred to withstand the harsh highland winters. The cattle are characterized by their long double coats and long horns. They generally are gentle by nature, but you should still always approach warily. The colors vary from an off-white to pure black (reds are often the most photographed). 

As for the sheep who outnumber the Scots, they are everywhere—most usually in the road—and the breeds are almost as many as there are hills in Scotland.

On the hills in Glen Clova, central highlands.

Typical. We're hurrying to a tee time on Fife near St Andrews and the sheep don't care.

In Sma'Glen, central Scotland, about 20 minutes away from Crieff where we spent most of our time.

The sheep keep the grasses cropped around the Kilmartin Valley standing stones.

Cows and Sheep on the Courses 

We knew something special was going on when the first green at Narin and Portnoo GC in County Donegal, Ireland, was surrounded by electrified fencing. We discovered that the land on which the first four holes of the course are sited was leased in the winter to a local farmer. To keep the sheep and cows off the greens, the club has surrounded the greens with electric fencing. The second time we played the course a couple of years later, the fencing was gone. The farmer’s lease had run out. Narin and Portnoo is not the only course where electric fencing is used to keep the animals off the greens. Brora GC, a championship track north of Royal Dornoch in Scotland, Achill Island, a beautifully sited nine-hole sheep pasture course off the west coast of Ireland, and Pennard GC in southern Wales still use the electric fencing to protect greens. It makes for an interesting round having to step over a live wire to get to the putting surface. Achill Island GC has another interesting feature. To break up the sheep droppings throughout the course, the grounds crew of one drags an old bedsprings behind a tractor. It does the job as well as fertilizes the fairways.

 

At Leadhills GC, the highest course in the UK at a little over 1200 feet elevation, in the southern uplands of Scotland has no fencing around the greens, but it has plenty of sheep. When we played no people were on the course except us, but there were sheep on practically every green. There were droppings from the sheep and their friends the rabbits on every green as well. At home we brush away droppings from our local oak and fir trees with our hats or hands. At Leadhills you cleared a path with your shoes or you moved the ball to an unobstructed location. It was a little difficult to play to a sheep infested green when your playing partner is saying, “Don’t hit them; they’re so cute.” Anne eventually had to hit right at a couple of sheep, but they quickly got out of the way. The sheep must get very good at dodging golf balls on their course. 

Tourists have to get used to sharing the road with locals at Staffin Bay, Isle of Skye.

Glen Quaich, southern highlands.

The same, evidently, wasn’t true at Southerndown GC in South Wales. The club’s centenary book contains a story of an early competition where a player’s shot hit a sheep and lodged in the wool at the animal’s posterior. The offended sheep bolted forward toward the green. The ball fell out much closer to the green than it would have had it not been carried. The argument then ensued about where the ball should be played--where it hit the sheep or where it finally came to rest. We’ve heard this story told at several other courses. Either sheep behinds have a magnetic attraction for golf balls in competition or it’s a Celtic golfer’s version of an urban myth. 

Black Angus cattle have the run of the northwest beaches near Durness.

The Black Angus do share the dunes with the lambs.

The St Fillans Cow Incident 

St Fillans Golf Club, a club where we are the only international members, is not a cow pasture course--most of the time. The course is a nine-hole gem in the Perthshire hills about 12 miles from our home-in-Scotland base in Crieff. St Fillans is nestled in a small valley surrounded by Highland hills and crags. Running along one side of the course is the small River Earn which flows out of Lochearn. Along the opposite side are cow and sheep pastures which butt up against the hills and an ancient walled off graveyard of the Stewart clan. Although quite flat, the course has interesting holes highlighted by the 3rd which is the only hole with any elevation. It plays from the top of a crag down toward the green about 280 yards away. With wind behind, I’ve driven the green. With the wind into us, a trap and rough on the right are seriously in play. The next two holes play around the edge of the crag which affects shots considerably. The course may be short and flat, but it’s definitely not easy. This sets the scene for our adventures at the sixth green. 

We were playing the course one day with our American golfing friends, Helen and Grady Morgan, who spent four days traveling with us on their tour of the UK. We had all teed off on the 220-yard par 3 (par 4 for ladies) 6th and were half way to the green when the course greenskeeper jumps off of his mower and starts yelling at us to stop the bulls from trampling the green. We quickly turned around just in time to see three young bulls or steers (I didn’t stop to look, but could tell they weren’t Bessies) who had broken through the fence and were heading for the green and us. Neither Grady nor I are farm boys and we didn’t want to start then, but we did what we could and jumped and yelled to try to turn the herd away from the green. We stalled the animals long enough for the greenskeeper to reach us with his mower and he herded them back into their field. We basked in our glory of a job sort of well done and finished our game. 

Scottish White Face, I think.

A Glen Quaich rancher is semi-famous for coloring his sheep in oder to thwart rustlers.

Several years later Anne and I were playing the course and caught up with a couple of women on the sixth who wanted to let us through. As we waited for the group ahead to clear the green, the ladies told us a story they heard about this hole and the day the whole herd of cows got out. Anne and I looked at each other and giggled and said, “We know that story. We’re the ones who corralled the herd, but it was only a herd of three young cows.” 

Galloway belted cattle (belties) are a hybrid breed of highland cow bred to survive on poor upland or highland moors. We saw these examples in Dartmoor Park in southern England. Remnants of a tin mine form the background.

Evidently our story has a life of its own. 

Shop on Edinburgh's Royal Mile.

A mom calling for her second lamb.

NEXT: I'll hunt up something.