Losing Our Balls on the Iron Range by Peter Raffo
Peter at Superior National Golf Course
It was going to be the road trip that would make us something more than ‘average golfers.’ That was how we described ourselves, Keith and I. Roughly translated, that meant we could shoot under 50 for nine holes on the local municipal course, which was about 2000 yards long and, frankly, ‘forgiving.’ But we knew we could do better if we were really challenged, and we’d heard that Northern Minnesota boasted some genuinely daunting courses. That’s what we wanted – something worth conquering. We figured, if we could break 100 on 18 holes at each of Superior National at Lutsen, the municipal course at Two Harbors, the Black Bear Casino course at Carson and the cute little local course at Silver Bay, we’d finally get some respect. That’s what it’s all about, really. R-E-S-P-E-C-T.
I bought twenty-four new balls – more than enough even for a veteran slicer. Keith, who tended to dribble his drives into the bush, took a few more. But who was counting? So off we went, four courses in four days, two old farts heading down Dylan’s Highway 61.
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Playing a mountain course in the mist is quite an experience. It’s something like being in a vampire movie. Or, you never know, you might meet the Hound of the Baskervilles round the next corner. You tee off, jump into the buggy, motor along a path that leads into the clammy gloom. Sometimes we actually found our balls. This was the ‘Chasm’ course, and it really lived up to its name. You’re chugging along then, blow me, there it is – looks like five hundred feet below – a raging torrent of water with a thin strip of green winking in the fog at you as if to say ‘go ahead, make my day.’ A chasm indeed!
But there was something rather beautiful about that day on the mountain. The weather was so bad it scared everybody else off the course. We were alone. Nobody could witness our ineptitude. The one triumph was a par three for both of us on the short hole. Who cares about conquest at such a time and place? I think we both got round the ‘Chasm’ then the ‘Mountain’ courses in about forty over par, not counting lost balls. Oh yes, that other score. I lost thirteen. Keith, who, after the third hole on the Mountain developed an extraordinary capacity for driving into every water hazard and thicket, lost far more. Maybe twenty. But, if we had been able to see it, I am pretty damned confident that we could report that Lutsen is a spectacular course to play. And the hospitality at the Resort itself? Splendid.
The Two Harbors course is a long, rather daunting, but ultimately slightly bland golf course. It is remembered by your correspondent for one very special humiliation. Being consistently pressured by four guys behind us, and getting thoroughly ticked off by that ( as it was undoubtedly the reason why we were losing so many balls), we decided to wave them through. We waited at the fifth tee for them, and, within nano-seconds two buggies rounded the corner and four fellas disembarked, with many thanks. Not one of these guys was under seventy-five. Their play was a lesson to us, which we resolved to follow in the future. They each hobbled to the tee and semi-arthritically looped their balls down the middle of the fairway, maybe a hundred and fifty yards each. They then heaved themselves back and motored down the course, only to do exactly the same thing, four of them in a line, for their second shots. Their third got them on the green and each was down in five. One over par, whilst neither of us had done less than double-bogey on any hole up to that point.
Meanwhile we were searching the rough looking for our sliced and dribbled drives and feeling the heat from the next buggy-load of old-timers behind (whom we did not let through.) By the time we were (mercifully) called off the course because of a looming lightning danger, our lost-ball count for the first two days was 75.
Black Bear Golf Course
Nor did this change when we finally made it to Carson and our next challenge – the Black Bear. Early in the morning, I determined to scout it out. What little I could see as the mist enveloped me, filled me with dread. Water, water everywhere! Narrow fairways with lines of trees just waiting to suck up our few remaining balls! When I reported back to Keith (a late riser), we decided that we’d need some practice on the driving range before teeing off. But then the opportunity arose to begin the round earlier than we had booked it – and thus get away from the temptations of the casino – and that meant that we set off unprepared as well as unnerved.
But something had happened to our game on the long road from Two Harbors! Balls were lost, yes, but we were beginning to hit them straighter and actually threatening to break 100 for the round. Indeed, I must modestly claim that, on the front nine, I scored a magnificent 46. What’s more, the mist started to rise, the full beauty of the course was revealed, and we found ourselves, because it was so humid, golfing alone again. What did we care about the heat - the Black Bear is a wonder of a golf course. Quite the opposite of the rugged, carved-from-Nature, experience at Superior National, this one had been built from scratch to a master-design. The fairways are lush, the rough offers a fair challenge, the greens are sumptuous – the whole is a thing of beauty, perfectly preserved by an industrious grounds crew. It even has golf carts with GPS!! It was quite a long ride to Carson, which lies well past Duluth, but it had been worth the journey.
And so we headed home, with just one more stop on the way. A nine-hole course at Silver Bay, a modest little town on the lakeshore which had known better days when taconite pellets made millions for the Iron Barons. Riding up the mountain from the single crossroad in town, we finally came to the end of the road. Literally so. One could go no further. Apparently this course had been built originally for the exclusive use of those barons, for whose convenience the paved road had also been constructed.
Here we found a little gem. Snuggling itself on the mountainside overlooking the lake, it presented itself with such good grace, from the reception we received in the clubhouse (where we finally stocked up on some modestly-priced balls), to the driving range (where Keith finally hit his stride and walloped the pesky little pillocks for miles), to the broad sweep of the undulating fairways and the cannily-placed greens, sitting in perfect condition. We teamed up with an older guy who’d played the course for years and who was able to tell us of hazards ahead and what lines to take. It was he who informed us that the course was one of the best-kept secrets of the region. “I’ve been coming here for ten years’, he said, ‘I’ve never had to book in advance.’ I wish I hadn’t told you that, for we plan to return.
We’re home now, Keith and I. It’s been about two months since we began the road trip. Four courses in three days on the iron range. Certainly, our game had improved. We spent much time on the way home happily speculating on how we were now well-equipped to conquer our own local courses. Right.
So how come, I asked Keith a few days ago, I’m still losing my balls?
Superior National Golf Course www.superiornational.com/
Two Harbors Lakeview Golf Course www.lakeviewnational.com/
Black Bear Golf Course www.golfatthebear.com/
Silver Bay Golf Course www.silverbaygolf.com/
Lutsen Resort www.lutsenresort.com/