All I wanted was a place to pee. On our trip to Virginia
National Golf Club, next to the Shenandoah River, this proved difficult
to find. The “clubhouse” trailer had no indoor plumbing, and I was
too busy pinning the Bounce sheet to my hat to remember to use one of the
porta-johns lined up outside. The front nine is laid out between
the access road and the river. Between the passing cars and boats,
it wasn’t until the 11th tee that I was able to find enough trees for a
little privacy. Whew!
The funny thing is, I may have discovered the secret to good golf: a
full bladder. I played much better on the front nine than the back.
But let me start at the beginning.
On a hot and muggy Saturday in May, Vranko, Bogeyman, Scott and I headed
west into the Shenandoah Valley for some golf. My fiancée
had the weekend off and I felt a little guilty leaving her behind (but
only a little). None of us had been there before. It was built
near the site of the Battle
of Cool Spring, an 1864 Civil War battle between the forces of Union
General Horatio Wright and the Confederate General Jubal Early.
In the temporary clubhouse (a real one is being built), the counter
man invited us to take a sheet of Bounce
fabric softener and a safety pin. The smell was supposed to keep
gnats at bay. A fringe benefit was how stupid we looked with little
white sheets attached to our caps. I let it hang down over the back
of my neck and tried to picture myself as some kind of golf-playing Lawrence
of Arabia.
To get to the driving range, I drove our cart through a path in some
waist-high grass, only to learn from the attendant that I wasn’t supposed
to do that. Instead, we were supposed to walk around the grass on
a dirt path. Combined with the trailer clubhouse and the loose gravel
parking lot, the driving range gave the course an “unfinished” feeling
that made me wonder if the drive to the course was worth it.
The practice green helped me feel better—until I lost the little putting
game we played. With the exception of a couple of repair patches,
all the greens on the course were in very nice shape and made for some
challenging putting. There were also some tees under repair making
for some shorter holes.
Some minor complaints. It would have been nice to have pictures
of the holes at the tee, or on the scorecard. That’s not asking for
much. Also, the course needed more yardage markers on the fairway.
Sometimes it was really hard to tell where you were. This is a complaint
I had about many courses.
In general though, we were all very pleased with the course and its
layout. We played from the white tees, which usually measures 6176
yards, with a rating of 70.4 and a slope of 130. I looked, but I
didn’t see anything that looked related to the nearby battlefield.
We did see people fishing and canoeing on the Shenandoah.
We played Lone Wolf. After the first person tees off, he chooses
to go “lone wolf” or to play with a partner. The best score then
wins the hole. You can be sure I didn’t go “lone wolf,” since I was
definitely the worst golfer there. I had my moments. At the
par-3 6th, the tee was back. We were looking at about 180 yards.
For me, a thirty-handicapper, this is a tough 4-iron. Not this time!
Right on the green about 12 feet from the flag. I two-putted for
the par and won the greensies. I forgot about my bladder on that
hole.
The front nine is tucked in between the access road and the river on
a flat stretch of land. The back nine heads up the side of a mountain.
Okay, a large hill, but it seemed mountainous at the time in the heat.
Scott and I drove a cart that seemed to be functioning on only one cylinder.
It crawled up the hills, making me wish that I hadn’t had that second helping
of Kung Pao Chicken the night before. I felt like I weighed three
hundred pounds. Scott ignored my question when I asked him if he
wanted me to get out and push.
On 13, the lack of pictures of the course layout hurt. The fairway
goes uphill and you can’t see most of it from the tee. We had to
drive up to see what it looked like.
The par-3 14th is a gorgeous hole. The green is about 100 feet
lower than the tee and drops off severely in the back. From the tee,
you look out onto rolling Virginia farmland teeming with haystacks.
Perhaps if I paid less attention to the view, I wouldn’t have double-bogeyed
the hole.
If anything, the par-4 15th is even more gorgeous than 14. From
the tee, the fairway is another hundred feet down. Standing there
with driver in hand, you look down the fairway, to the river, and across
to a tree covered mountain (okay, large hill) in the distance. Just
a beautiful sight. (And another double-bogey for me.)
When we were on the short, par-4 17th, another foursome was playing
the 11th heading in the opposite direction. All four of us are happily
married or about to become so, but, hey, we’re not dead, and we immediately
noticed a very attractive girl playing in that group. “Wow!” somebody
said. I started laughing. “What?” I pointed to my cap.
“I’m sure she’d find us really attractive with these laundry sheets attached
to our heads,” I said, and we all cracked up.
They say laughter is the best medicine, but it didn’t help me any.
I triple-bogeyed the hole.
Though I didn’t play well—even for me—I had a good time. The course
was nice, the company was nice and, at the end, I was finally able to get
rid of the Bounce. While we waited for Bogeyman, as he was “Waggle-ing”
with the club pro, I tried to imagine how nice the place would look when
they got the clubhouse built. Then I started to daydream about Union
soldiers marching down the fairways, confused looks on their faces as they
stared at silly looking men and women carrying slender metal clubs and
wearing caps with white sheets pinned to the back. I guess I was
really hungry. Luckily Bogeyman soon returned and drove us to Burger
King.
(May 20, 2000)
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