Kamloops, BC – As we think about the 20 years that we’ve been married, Ben and I believe that golf has helped us stay together. It’s a sport that men and women can compete equally – thanks to the “forward” tees – and one in which you don’t have to compete against each other, unless you want to. There’s plenty of challenge just competing against yourself and all those little demons in your head, not to mention the bunkers, water hazards, cliffs, bushes, trees and blind doglegs that course designers throw at you.
Sometimes, of course, golf can also test the marriage, and does so often. It’s not easy to watch someone nearly burst apart at the seams over a wicked slice or another lost ball or a chunked chip or a horrible putt. But, we have learned over the past six years that we’ve been playing this game, that our outbursts of anger and vitriol are just part of the game. I’ve learned to not let Ben’s string of f-words interfere with my composure, and he’s learned not to put his hand on my knee and try to comfort me when I’m pouting and pissed about the last hole…or holes.
Yesterday was that kind of day.
On the first golf day of our golf vacation in British Columbia, we woke early and drove west, past Kamloops, up into hills pitted with salt ponds where the mineral soups from the fractured rocks below seep up into low pots, turning the circular depressions snow white. After about 40 miles, we dipped back down to the river to Tobiano, Canada’s No. 1 new golf course in 2009, according to Golf Digest.
The course is something to see. The gum-drop shaped, sage-covered hills that line the wide river were dotted with patches of rich grass of fairways and greens, as if the tops of every other gum drop had been flattened and painted green. The new club house and restaurant provided floor to ceiling views of the river and the flattened gumdrops. We watched the U.S. Open while eating breakfast and gazed at the daunting landscape cum golf course.
Although the slope of the course – only 119 from the forward tees and 125 from Ben’s – didn’t indicate that it would be a tough course, the view from the clubhouse said differently. As we warmed up on the driving range, it was clear that wind was going to play a factor in the day’s game. And a few quick putts on the practice green also gave fair warning that the fast, rolling – dare I say rollercoaster – greens would be tricky.
We started our round with a decent par four, down wind. We had decent drives from the tee and decent lies on the fairway, and fairly routine second shots. But the tough approach and sloping green wrested a couple of extra strokes from each of us, and we ended up with triple and quadruple bogies. I will spare non-golfers the rest of the details of the round, but suffice it to say that long carries over deep, sage-brush lined gullies, and long shots into a steady 30 mph wind kept us struggling all day. We each lost far more than the usual number of balls, and Ben exercised more than his usual amount of f-word creativity. In the end, I was about 14 strokes long of where I should have been, and Ben ended up a good 7 strokes above his usual game. I suggested stopping at the club house for lunch, tempted by the smell of grilled burgers, but Ben would have nothing to do with it. “I want to get out of here and never come back as long as I live,” he said, leaving little room for doubt.
Tobiano might be the best golf course of 2008, but I don’t think it is the most fair. There is little room to bail when shots aren’t perfect, and no escapes for those who don’t want to challenge the gully gods. The wind, which seemed to blow straight down from the Cascades with nary a tree to slow it down, was constant and dreadful. It was one of those courses where you don’t leave saying, “I’m glad we played it even if we didn’t play well.” Frankly, we could have done without the pain.
But, that’s golf. Every course isn’t for everyone. Some folks need the challenge of target practice – hitting little golf balls onto tiny gum-drop hill landing spots and putting across greens with slope greater than Cherry Street in Seattle. But frankly, I’m out to play for fun, and Tobiano simply wasn’t fun.
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