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 The Golfing Nomad had the best of intentions last month, but Mother Nature had other plans. I’ve become a golf wimp when it comes to playing in less-than-ideal conditions, so when the members of my nomadic tribe got together for a recent round and the rain began to fall, we scampered for the clubhouse. But all was not lost as we gathered around a table to share tales of our early trips around regional golf courses. Everyone remembered the first course we played. For a few of us in the group, it was a pitch-and-putt course called Pico Rivera. We affectionately called it “Pico Riviera” to make it our own Hogan’s Alley. Memories of the mats that looked like the business end of a broom and the electrical wires overhead that sent a metallic ring throughout the course when struck were definitely the highlights. From there, many of us graduated to Whittier Narrows, a municipal course with long holes and fairways wide enough to land a pair of B-52s. At the time, none of us cared about the uneven tee boxes, spotty greens or clay-bottomed bunkers. We just loved being on the course. We also remembered Montebello Country Club and its tree-lined fairways that seemed to gobble up golf balls, and we laughed about how difficult it was to make a par at the par-3 ninth hole, which played less than 90 yards. There was Recreation Park in Long Beach and the original Rio Hondo Country Club in Downey. Both had out-of-bounds stakes on the first hole, which got us thinking: Is there anything worse than having to reload after making your first swing of the day? The tricky greens at Marshall Canyon in La Verne also came to mind, as did the 220-yard, par-3 13th hole at Mountain Meadows in Pomona, where we lost a lot of balls in the rocky chasm between the tee box and green. My most vivid memory was watching a 2-iron shot fly straight for the hole but hang on the lip. It’s still the closest I’ve come to making a hole-in-one, but I’m not bitter. There was laughter when we talked about the sign at Fullerton Golf Course boasting that one of the holes was a replica of a hole at Pebble Beach. We all groaned at the memory of the par-4 10th hole at La Mirada Golf Course, where you had to hit your tee shot up the hillside and hope that your ball didn’t gather too much speed and run all the way down the hill and into the lake. More good memories were from our junior golf days when California Country Club let us walk the course in the afternoons for a couple of dollars. We also remembered a few of the first destination courses. When La Quinta Resort and Spa opened the Mountain and Dunes courses, we saved our money to play 36 holes in 110-degree heat in the middle of August — and loved every second of it. We also remembered when Moreno Valley Ranch opened, officially making it all right for golfers from Orange County to travel to the Inland Empire for a round. We let out a collective sigh when remembering the rounds we played at Imperial Golf Course and the hours spent building our swings at Big Tee — both of which no longer exist. The next generation of young golfers will never know the joy of hitting balls with friends under the lights or competing for the coveted plaid jacket that was our version of the Masters played on Big Tee’s par-3 course. It was great reminiscing about the early days of our golf experiences. It’s easy to forget what used to bring us joy. Walking less-than-pristine golf courses with good friends was a huge part of our early attraction to the game. After that conversation, we were a little more thankful for the golf opportunities we enjoy today. And I was thankful that the rain had stopped. |
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