Highways To Fairways

Part of what makes golf somewhat unattractive to the common man is what some would perceive as an elitist attitude towards the average player. We at HTF would normally agree with that sentiment. That was, however, before we ventured to a place you’d never expect to find and a place you’d be terribly remiss to pass over. It’s called Coeur D’Alene Resort.

The magnificent Coeur D'Alene Golf Resort

For easterners like us, Coeur D’Alene Idaho is well out of our (normal) scope. Of course, that “scope” was well before we decided to embark on this little journey of 10,000 km (8500 miles for our American friends - and we do mean “friends”).

It’s almost an anomaly to find this kind of oasis in this kind of place. Coeur D’Alene is in the middle of everything but not in the center of anything. You really need to know about this place before you venture. there.

We’re actually immersed into the entire experience full force, staying for two nights at the immaculate Coeur D’Alene Resort which may be the closest we will ever get to living like royalty. Twelve stories up, with a view we think may include British Columbia and some of Japan.

12 floors up, the HTF Idaho Control Center

For us, arrival at the golf course meant a short ten minute boat ride across the lake to the golf course where our clubs have been patiently waiting for us for two days (they fed them I’m hoping). next comes being assigned/given/presented with our very own caddy who, on this day, was named Brandon.

unknown golfer with our boy Brandon

The best part of having a caddy - we’ve discovered - is having someone to blame our collection of bad shots on. Brandon made a lot of bad calls and bad reads. (Before he got involved I think we were both something like 12 under par.) We actually kept Brandon entertained all day since I think we put balls in places on the course he’d never visited in his three years working at the course (you’re welcome).

What we quickly started to realize is that this course takes nothing for granted. Sure, it’s pristine - that was expected - but what sets this place apart and what makes it well worth the visit, is their attention to detail. There’s the floating green..

Shiny, Flying J, Andy, Drama and the infamous 14th hole

.. the fax machine on the ninth where your caddy places a food order to the clubhouse..

we called her Faxxy

.. the customized bag tags you get at the completion of the round; the tee dispensers on the carts; the ball and club washers on the custom carts (with tilt steering and heated seats); and the lakeside driving range where you shoot your balls into the lake (with floating driving range balls no less).

What you have to appreciate in all of this splendor is that none of these accoutrements come with a haughty attitude. Couer D’Alene is as welcoming to the average player (and we’re VERY average) as it is to the elite golfer (I’m simply assuming this since it’s like asking me the weather conditions on Mercury). As with everything we’ve encountered so far, it’s people that have made the difference, adding charisma, charm and character to a geographical and topographical wonder.

Drama talks to Brandon about the shot he's about to flub

Thanks to Bob, Andy, Brandon, Captain Mark and everyone else who made this journey into a worthwhile destination.

So the mechanical breakdown turned out to be a blessing in disguise. Tires - even blown ones - always seem to lead you places. For us that meant Angola Indiana at the Lake James Golf Club although not directly. We started out aiming to play the one course we passed on the way to get our new tires. Then, after talking to some friendly small town Hoosiers, our quest was to play a course at the local university. That plan quickly changed after talking to another small throng at an Angola blues club who strongly recommended Lake James. Therein started our quest

One of the things we had heard about Lake James was the claim that their 17th hole was located at the highest point in Indiana. In theory that sounds awesome and it truly was a nice view but, when you come from an area that has Highlands in the name and when you realize that the state of Indiana is a v e r y flat state, you kind of end up looking for mountain goats and end up finding alpining squirrels (not that this ruined the golf experience in any way).

What impressed me most about Lakes James is the way the old-growth forests were incorporated into the design and appeal of the course. Driving up any of the fairways you’re met with a collection of grand oaks that, for me at least, simply adds to the splendor, as if the course just happens to be there versus these places that simply destroy and bull doze everything natural around it. That, for me, made the experience.

We arrived in Indianapolis around 10:30, drove around the city (and we mean AROUND) till we found both the Brickyard and a hotel (Microtel). Two beds, three guys and a small ledge facing the road (Wayde “slept” there). I stayed up late filing a Sun Media cartoon while being serenaded by the HTF Twin Nostril Symphony with Jason doing an amazing snort solo. Luckily Rob Young, a mutual friend, had sent us (me) with plenty of much-needed earplugs (Industrial strength no less) which managed to protect my ears from the aural onslaught.

Now, about the odor..

So it’s Tuesday September 1st and, as threatened promised, the great Highways To Fairways roadtrip begins today.

We’re loading groceries, socks, sleeping bags and..of course.. Jason. We told Wayde he could sleep in the trailer (note to self: get a trailer).

We will likely be in northern Michigan by tonight. Just follow the line of state troopers if you’re looking for us.

The plan is to be in Indianapolis for our first golfing endeavor at The Brickyard Crossing Thursday. Even though it’s not required I’m recommending wearing protective headgear on the course. I have a nasty slice.

Updates as they happen. Weather on the ones. I mean, talk to you soon.