Bridges to Golf
When I was preparing for this golf adventure, I was looking at the surrounding area of Des Moines on Google Maps and discovered Madison County. Does that sound familiar to anyone? Maybe it does. Think back to 1995; there was a small movie called...The Bridges of Madison County
Yeah, it turns out Madison County has quite a few covered bridges, so I decided to take a side trip out to see some bridges. I'm glad I did. There is a bridge trail of sorts; you can download a map, and once on the trail, you can choose to follow road signs to the covered bridges. The drive out was very nice, and if you like cornfields, you won't be disappointed. I was struck by how flat this area of Iowa was.
The day I was out hunting bridges, it was a beautiful fall day, but I could imagine how strong the cold winter winds would be whipping through the miles and miles of farms. I ended up getting to three bridges, but if given enough time, I think you can see about seven bridges overall. This was a great little diversion. Once I wrapped up my last bridge sighting, I headed back to Des Moines because I had a tee time to get to.
On My Own - Twice
My first go around at Waveland Golf Course I only played nine. I had a late tee time and knew I was going out the next day for the full 18. I played alone and had the course almost to myself, which is nice sometimes. You’re left to own thoughts, the round is very zen like, and keeping up with the pace of play is much easier. I did miss out on the local knowledge, the idle chit chat, and sharing everyone’s golf experiences. The local knowledge was sorely missed right from the start-two words-blind shots.
Standing alone on the first tee, I had no idea how the hole was playing. The map on the scorecard showed a slight dogleg right, but I couldn't see that; maybe it was behind the giant hill in front of me. Also, I could have used a second or third set of eyes helping me find my golf ball. I have been known to hit a ball right down the middle of the fairway and lose the ball. By the third hole, I had navigated four blind shots, sloping left and right fairways, and fall leaves on the ground. By the time I got to the 4th tee box, I was teeing up my fifth golf ball. I was missing the local knowledge for sure, and those extra eyes on my golf balls. Never before had I wished I was playing in an eightsome.
On the next day, the ball count was a little better, mostly because I learned a little bit about the front nine from yesterday. I had a better understanding of what was on the other side of each blind shot. It doesn't help much when you hit the ball over the blind spot and it catches the fairway slope; if you don't see how fast the ball scoots off the fairway and into the woods, it still means a lost ball.
I was supposed to go out with a twosome this day, and when I got to the first tee, there was a twosome waiting to hit, but they were not part of my group. I asked if they wanted to join me, or I guess I would be joining them. Anyway, I think for the first time on this golf journey, someone said no to that offer. I was surprised and asked if they were sure, and they told me to go first and have a great round. Well then, off I went, and I set out to have a great round.
I was doing better this round and I was able to really look around the course. The hills were real and everywhere, it struck me as strange only because of how flat the surrounding area is, but here they are, blind shot after blind shot. Another thing I began to notice was the benches that are sprinkled around the course. Each tee box had benches that were dedicated to folks who have passed away. That is something I have always thought I would want when I wrap up this life of mine. And after seeing these benches I want this even more. I need to start - maybe not just yet - working on my unique quote.
The Call and Save
Playing alone is nice and relaxing, but there are some down sides as I already mentioned, but probably the worst part is when you do something unusally good you can't bask in the accolades of your playing partner or partners. I found my self perched on a hill standing on the 6th green staring at a 20 foot putt for par.
I looked at the putt from all sides and determined it was slightly downhill and had a slight left to right break. I moved the putter head into place and it lined up perfectly, no need to adjust the aim. I tapped the ball and it rolled slowly down the hill, working ever so slightly to the right. What seemed like a minute long, the ball rolled dead center into the bottom of the cup. There was a roar from the gallery—in my head—once things settled down—in my head—I picked up my ball and moved on to the 7th hole.
The 8th hole is a 178-yard par 3. You have to hit over a valley to an elevated green. Hit it short or left, and your ball will drop 50 feet below the green with very few options to get the ball onto the green, besides picking the ball up, climbing the small mountain to the green, and placing your ball on the green. I hit my tee shot well but to the left! When I got to the ball, I was looking at a sheer wall of a slope to the green. I looked back at the tee box and saw that there was no one waiting there, so I decided to take a swing and see what happens.
Settling under the ball with my 60-degree face wide open, I took a full yet balanced swing at the ball, and to my amazement, the ball floated straight up the slope and seemed to settle softly on the green. With great anticipation, I started my ascent up the 50-foot slope, wondering how everything worked out up there on this mountainous green. When I crested the green, I saw that the ball was sitting 10 inches from the hole; once again, the roar of the gallery—in my head—was deafening. I tapped in and headed to the 9th hole, and then after that, I would be heading out to uncharted territory, the back 9.
The Waves at Waveland
Teeing up on the Par 5 12th hole didn’t seem too different from most of the other holes I have been playing. I had a fairway valley separating me from safety over a hill to what I assumed would be a continuation of a flat(ish) fairway. Like the other holes, I had no sight line to the green and had no idea of what danger lurked over the hill I was trying to hit to.
The tee shot went out straight and drifted to the right of the fairway and skipped off the top of the mountain—I mean hill—and disappeared behind the fairway wall. I crested the hill and looked ahead only to spot another hill about the same size as the first, and way down at the bottom of this second valley was my ball. I was in the fairway, and once I carefully traversed down to my ball, I learned I was still 280 yards away from the green, wherever that was. I decided to take a peek over this second hill before I hit my second shot, and to my astonishment, I saw another giant hill in front of me creating another large valley to carry my ball over.
I return to my ball, and with a 3 wood in hand, I hit a shot that skipped twice up the hill and then was launched into the air towards who knows where. At this point, I have not seen the green; I only sort of know the direction to hit because my golf watch is showing a map of the hole. I climb the second hill, and sure enough, the ball is sitting in valley number three. Still no green in sight, and I’m 167 yards out. I go to the top of hill number 3, and down in its own valley, there it was, the green. I managed to hit a 6 iron to about 20 feet from the green.
Mentally and physically exhausted, I finally putted out and turned back to see where I came from, and from my vantage point on the green, the three hills looked like three giant ocean waves rolling onto shore. Like the 50 or 60-foot waves that roll in every January at the surf location Mavericks. What a ride!
At that point in my round, I began to think about when this course was designed and who thought it was a good idea to build a course in this spot. I mean, Iowa is pretty flat; granted, this hilly course is beautiful, fun to play, and it definitely demands your attention, but what was it like to build this course back in 1901?
Remember, the landscape crew didn't have power equipment, so all the clearing and shaping was done by hand and horse. Think about how many times these folks had to climb along the 12th hole, let alone the entire course. My hat goes off to the 1901 grounds crew, and good for the visionary who designed Waveland and found the only hilly area in Iowa.
Thanks for stopping by and learning a little bit about my journey to Des Moines. This little adventure has taken me to some great places, and Waveland and the surrounding area of Des Moines did not disappoint. This year also found me playing golf in Ottawa Park in Toledo, Ohio, and returning to Del Monte in Monterey, California.
This golf season has wrapped up for this year, and plans have begun for next year. In February, I'll be playing a bucket list course, Furnace Creek Golf Course in Death Valley, California. The course plays at 214 feet below sea level, making it the world's lowest elevation golf course. As for the upcoming rounds of golf at historic courses in 2025, I just discovered three courses in Connecticut that were opened in 1894, 1896, and 1898. I don't know, Connecticut in the spring doesn't sound so bad! See you all on the course!
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