Sit on Every Bench at Bandon Dunes (Day 3 - Old Mac)

The following morning we arrived at Old Mac, and so did the wind. It was colder today and the wind only made it colder. The first 3 holes at Old Mac are a stark contrast to the other courses I had seen thus far. You start out moving north along the back side of a single massive dune to the west, and for the first 3 holes you are pinned between this dune and a vast clearing of trees to the east. I say pinned because this area of the course has what I can only assume to be deliberately induced liminal vibes, and the feeling of an impending “something” is palpable. My senses start vying for definition and control here; the course to this point looks open, but it doesn’t feel open. In fact, the landscape here seems deafeningly quiet. Too quiet. The pressure in the air and in my awareness builds, whipping over the hill into my body. I find myself leaning into it to stay upright, a would-be theme for this entire experience. Eyes watering, ears burning, and anxieties intensifying, I step on the to 3rd tee box that faces me directly into the impending fray; a massive “extra-club” incline to reach the fairway, and atop sits the omnipresent (or rather omniscient) Ghost Tree: Gatekeeper to the West. It’s hard not to feel like I’m being watched while I stew in the anticipation of what lies just beyond that hill. I think of the stories that tree could tell, hit my shot, climb the hill, and in reaching the top I take my first full breath of the day.

The build-up does not disappoint, and my fight or flight is instantly gratified with one glorious view. Amber, gold, green, and gray roll out like one giant comforter draping over the land in almost every direction as far as the eye can see, which happens to be nearly the entirety of the property. Old Mac is carved into a giant bowl between the forest and the ocean and offers the feeling of playing in a variety of settings from meadows and canyons to deserts and oceanside. I’ll leave the mixed reviews I have received about this course aside, and simply state that at face value - as far as golf courses go, it’s a lot of bang for your buck. The dynamic style of this course is born out of necessity where form meets function in its conceptualization, and although it flows nicely, true to Bandon form it did catch me off guard on holes 6-10 when the wind and rain made their appearance in a big way.

We went from cool breezes with sun breaks to full rain gear and “I can’t feel my hands” in 5 minutes flat at the turn. I was told that the elements can pass as quickly as they arrive, so I battled my blow-up holes with great gusto (all puns intended), and it paid off. The clouds broke, and we cranked up the tunes and carried on.

Sometimes the wide-open forgiveness of a space can make me feel like an unruly toddler, and after a while, I feel myself starting to crave the safety of boundaries on the course. This happened at just the right moment on the back 9 of Old Mac when you start nestling back into the hillside your sense of security kicks back in. The landscape gives your eyes a natural backstop and something to hold onto; it naturally relieves you from the at-times overwhelming sense of shot options and just picks out an easy one for you. I loved the back 9 on Old Mac, it was where I felt the most connection to this course, just in time to turn the proverbial corner and dogleg left to the green on 16. Ringing the bell and coming full circle back to the east side of the dune for the last two holes, is a well-timed point of reflection. Between the architecture, and the weather, there is a lot to take in on this course and if you’re not paying attention, attention pays you.

Even with a core-rattling 5 blow-up hole streak (I would say this was the ONE TIME I was adequately whiny, I just couldn't feel my hands in the freezing rain), I still managed to break 100 at Old Mac. This course seems to get a lot of guff, or, inversely minimal praise from the folks I talk to that have played it. But honestly, I think it's a great knock-around course because you get a little bit of everything here! It's like food at the fair. You want corn dogs? We got corn dogs. You like crazy big railroad tie-laden bunkers? We got those too. And knowing this, it makes for the perfect even playing field to take on a match, or just as easily party it up with no agenda. In my experience, it was the palette cleanser of the trip, and every trip needs that! Embrace the Mac, I say.

Old Mac, Bandon Dunes

Chris and I on the 3rd tee box waiting to tee off with the signature Ghost Tree looming in the background

Sit on Every Bench at Bandon Dunes (Day 2 [Part 2] Bandon Trails)

I cannot recommend the chicken adobo bowl at Bandon Trails highly enough. With just enough heat, and complementing sweetness – this was the perfect meal to warm me up before heading back into the elements. This, more Aspirin, and another cocktail of course.

(If you don't golf, you may be thinking: "Damn she be drinking a lot." All I can say here is that there is a time for everything, and you’ve got to trust the process. If you do golf, all I can say is...you may already be familiar with this process, cheers). At this point in time my neck was still killing me, but I could at least move it now. Feet tired and spirits high (both liquid and emotional), I wrapped up the meal and stood to face the onslaught. I had prepared for this round, I knew it would be my most challenging to date. There was no getting off the ride now, it was go time - round 2 at Bandon Trails.

We walk up to the 1st tee box at Trails and wait for the starter to walk up to give us his spiel. I look up at the relentless rain and watch as the sun tries to peek out through the heavy purple and gray clouds, just then something catches the corner of my eye. Two turkeys – yes - two very real, very large turkeys mindlessly walk across the fairway in front of us. My penchant for superstition kicks in and I just know it: “This is going to be an incredible round”.

Bandon Trails is like golfing in a Disney movie. It wasn’t just the salamanders that we kept encountering on fairways, or the deer wandering in and out of the brush, it was the entire picture, top to bottom, details and all. The colors here are 1,400 shades of greens, browns, rich burnt sienna and orange. This isn’t so much a woodland course as it is a rainforest course. When you reach the tee box at the second hole, it’s very clear that you’re embarking into an entirely different world compared to what you’ve experienced thus far at Bandon. The fairways and greens although inviting do offer plenty of challenging shots, that (with perhaps the exception of 14...screw you 14 green) are generally rewarded. The trees here are big and old; their height, the color of their bark, and their tinsel-like hanging moss create a marvelous and dynamic aesthetic set among the smaller trees and shrubs of every possible shape, color, texture, and size. Aside from a select few parallel fairways, you might never see another group on Trails. Every hole here is its own little world; the wood chip-lined trails between greens and tee boxes are resonant of something not golf-related at all.

This place was incredibly nostalgic for me who grew up running around in the woods of the Pacific Northwest. And there it is; childhood incarnate, but with golf. You can’t help but feel like a kid here, out enjoying a hike, building a fort in the backyard, running under a tree to get out of the rain, and out playing in the endless fun that nature has to offer. Only, you get to golf in it! Seriously, what could be more fun than that? Just like a hiking trail, the course layout is reminiscent of switchbacks that wind you up through the hills cresting with earthshattering views from a viewpoint behind the 14th tee box (maybe the only good thing about 14. Seriously what is the deal with 14? Okay I'll stop shitting on 14). It’s at this moment I finally caught my breath and for the first time broke out my camera and took a photo. This moment of repose where you’re above the canopy and catch a glimpse of the ocean on the horizon is insane, there is no other way to cut it. No justice can be done to describe this view or the feeling it invokes, so I won't try to. You'll just have to go see it for yourself.

The walk up to the tee box on 18 was like waking up from a dream – exiting from a short woodland trail that fades you back into reality with signature sandy dunes and a blind tee shot. I almost forgot we are right next to the ocean. Almost. Trails definitely stands alone as the mysterious redhead of the courses, with so much discovered, it only made me feel like there was infinitely more to be explored here.

Now, I define a great round as a feel-good time, with laughs, drinks, buddies, and stringing together a few good shots if I'm lucky. I am by no means a great golfer, as a 6-year golf veteran and 15 handicap I certainly don’t speak on any authority whatsoever (*cue thematic music here*), but I do know my own personal medicine If I am to have any hope of a great round: Gratitude and humility. The environment here alone makes it nearly impossible not to be grateful, simply by looking at where you get to spend your day. But the challenge of this course is where you let humility play a key role in the round. It’s not about falsely bringing myself down or t superficially talking myself up; it’s about meeting my game where it’s at for the day – for better or for worse – and filling in the gaps with whatever offerings surround me, literal or proverbial. I’m not saying this is always easy, but I am saying – that when I’m able to have those special rounds when I have simply resigned myself in service to the game, magical things happen. Call it faith, call it luck, call it whatever makes sense for you, I shot an 87 that round; my lowest of the entire trip. Now, time for a well-deserved hot shower, and a more than a well-deserved hot meal, and it was lights out at 8 pm (JK we went back to the bunker bar, again). The end of Day 2, Old Mac tomorrow...

Chris and I at the viewpoint behind glorious 14. I promise you, the photo does it zero justice.

Chris teeing off from 14. The narration is particularly choice here

Sit on Every Bench at Bandon Dunes (Day 1 - The Preserve & Day 2 (part 1) Bandon Dunes)

The next day was going to be our most challenging day with Bandon Dunes in the morning and Bandon Trails in the afternoon. So we planned an easy night that started with a phenomenal shared meal at the lodge and ended with a round at The Preserve for some EOD fun. (Okay okay, so we actually ended at the Bunker Bar, but that’s a different story, and I will be regaling it in another post to come). Cocktails in hand (of course) we made our way to the bench overlooking the first tee box.

We start swinging and I quickly realize I had no idea how tired my body was going to be. After just one morning round? (*tomorrow should be interesting*). Needless to say, I was not hitting the ball, so it was time to crank up the tunes and have another drink. Golf be like that sometimes, and I wasn't about to let a few bad shots on the par 3 course kill my vibe. In my defense, this par 3 course is like mini golf on steroids. Carved into the hillsides, it leans into the elevation changes with highs, lows, bunkers, and no bailouts. It is fun, beautiful, and If nothing else, a fanciful trust exercise with your short irons and chipping. The evening was the perfect time to play this spot; watching the shadows grow long and the colors change along the hillside. Catching glimpses and sounds of the other groups enjoying themselves – it was the perfect golf nightcap.

(fast forward a few hours later)

It's 3am Sunday morning, and I am waking up to searing pain in my left shoulder blade, radiating up through the left side of my neck. (*huh, I must have been sleeping on it funny or something?*) I adjust my pillows and try to stretch my head to the opposite side to gain some relief and try to fall back asleep. It's now 4:30 am and I am awake again. It’s raining, hard, and my body hasn’t moved at all but this time the pain is even more intense. So much so, that I cannot turn my head to the left…at all. Shit. I try to remain calm, but my mind starts kicking into full panic mode: “No. No, no, no! I’ve waited so long for this trip. Come on body – don’t do this to me now!”. I sit up, stretch, and once again try to readjust, hoping to just fall back asleep and pray that this goes away while I sleep. It's 6:30 am, and my eyes crack open. I.can’t.move. I am immediately awake, stretching, laying on whatever I can use for a pressure point (shot glasses included) against the knot in my shoulder blade which is so inflamed that it is numb to the touch.

Chris’s alarm goes off an hour later, he looks at me – I am almost in tears; why THIS, and on THIS day!? (I know exactly what this is - It happened before, about 6 months prior when I went to the driving range, took 2 swings, and subsequently threw my neck out.) I start to go to a dark place. “What if this is it? What if I get one round at Bandon and then I’m held up in bed for the entirety of this trip?”. I look outside at the rain pummeling down – I had prepared for unpredictable weather, but not for an unpredictable body.

I crack my literal and proverbial knuckles: “NOT TODAY SATAN!” Chris is reassuring and gets to work massaging my back and neck. I am popping Aspirin like candy and get into the shower under the highest heat I can stand, stretching and letting the water pound my muscles. I get a little movement back, but I know that with all that heat in my body, and all that doubt in my mind: If I happened to stop moving, or don’t start drinking – this body is going to lock up and my golf dreams are all but lost. I shrug (*wince*), throw on my rain gear and head out the door to the Lodge for breakfast. And liquor. And a healthy dose of prayer that I make it to the first tee. They serve fortitude at the breakfast buffet, right?

I’ve played a lot of sports and taken up many hobbies, and although I’ve participated in many team sports, I have always gravitated towards activities that pit you against yourself and the elements. I'm not unique in this, but my mind has always been a hearty challenge all on its own. It is easily the biggest hurdle in any game, and today I was showing up for a race I felt wildly unprepared for. But above all else (the weather, the blinding pain, and the sea of self-sabotage running amuck on my brain), I wanted to be here, and that willful stubbornness (although I like to think of it as a burning passion for the game) alone got me out the door, and into the bar, and onto that course. After a full breakfast, double greyhound, and some inspiring self-talk, I ordered another cocktail to go and we are off to the first tee box at Bandon Dunes to swing and pray.

Onto the good stuff - Bandon Dunes. The colors here are forest green, navy, and taupe. Pops of yellow gorse make their presence known, but it doesn’t seem to be the major visual element competing for attention in the overall design. Dunes, much like most of the courses here, starts off by piquing your interest with hints of what’s to come. Hole 1 is a Par 4, long dogleg right, and a fairly flat view which can challenge your depth perception if you’re anything like me. No big deal, for a fader like me this should play just fine. (Worry not sweet innocent golf baby – there is plenty of obstacles to overcome). It is green here – very green, and the blind green itself on this hole (if you end up short and on the right as I did), gets you spider senses tingling - I am mindfully aware that I have no idea where this course is leading me, but I am very curious to find out.

Through the first 3 holes I am introduced to the key visual elements of this course, one at a time. The rolling green of the fairways, the fescue, the gorse-lined rocky canyons and hillsides, and of course – the water. The trees here are surreal; even without the wind, they are combatively frozen in motion from years of unyielding sideways wind and rain. They too are a blessed reminder of how subject you are the elements on this course. The well-worn stone walkways and weather worn wooden benches give this place a sense of maturity. As the first course built on this property, it has had time to settle into the environment, adopting much of its finishing textures from the sea. The course and nature have compromised with one another here and created something spectacular. You can see it, and you can feel it. Nothing seems manufactured, everything feels settled. This wasn’t my best round but I was able to surprise myself on a few spectacular holes, notwithstanding the notable par 3rs along the cliffs and water (*muah – chefs kiss*).

Now, I had thoroughly been enjoying my time with my caddie up until this point. Having laughs, sharing drinks, and getting to know one another, but this day (with some obvious physical distractions at play) was when I truly embraced leaning into the caddie/golfer relationship. The course knowledge and social engagement of the caddies here are invaluable; it is so easy to overthink every single shot on this course, by either striving to make every shot a golf shot, or, inversely by just trying to survive getting up and down - but they’re always able to bring your focus back in, and kind of absorb all of your mental distractions. Think of it as clearing mental space so you can have enough room for the confidence you’re going to need to make the next shot. And mine came through with great aplomb, I owe her BIG TIME. Caddie Rae Lynn – You are a master of your craft.

We finished the round cold and a bit tired from fighting the waves of rain and wind that swept through the round, but I broke 100 which (considering how the day began) was way more than I could have hoped for. We grabbed our gear and prepare to head off to Trails. While waiting for the shuttle, I look up and see that fateful bench overlooking the Lodge; I make a mental note. Hungry and tired, we get onto the shuttle and scoot over to Trails End to grab a quick bite before the madness of the day’s second round was to begin at Badon Trails. Little did I know just how valuable that quick bite would be...

Chris "enjoying" just one of the bountiful bunker offerings at Bandon Dunes. Don't worry, he got out just fine