Denver

Willy and I grew up skiing, partying, and tackling adolescent life together. We have remained friends since high school but like most friendships, distance has weakend the bond formed from middle and high school. He moved to Denver half a year ago as locational middle ground so that he could continue his career as a commercial airline pilot and subsequently feed his skiing addiction without having to travel a great distance. I arrived late at the condo in Southwest Denver that he shares with his girlfriend Amanada. We caught up briefly before he retired for the evening in an effort to bank enough sleep as possible to be well rested for his 17 hour work day of flying across the country the next morning.

ROUND #32 - THE RIDGE AT CASTLE PINES NORTH

I awoke early at 7AM in anticipation of playing 36 holes. The first course on the agenda was The Ridge at Castle Pines North. The trip south to the course was fortunately against traffic and much easier than the trip facing commuters in the opposite direction. The gridlock headed into the city rivaled that of D.C. and I was glad to not be in it. The chilly morning and temperatures the previous night gave way to a 25 minute frost delay. The driving range, playing into a 30 MPH biting and chilling wind, proved to be too much to endure, so I bidded my time over a coffee in the clubhouse restaurant. Once the course was cleared for play, I teeded off solo on pace to have one of the quickest rounds in golf history. Until I caught up with the maintenance crew, which had a 5 hole start, on the 11th fairway. I waited for 20 minutes for the green to be properly mowed before I could hit my second shot into this uphill par 5. The 12th tee nearly left me with a similar wait. From the teeing ground I could see a maintenance cart parked behind the green on this medium length, downhill par 3. I could not tell if anyone was in the cart, but more peculiar was the fact that there was no flagstick on the green. After 3 minutes of hesitation, I checked the pin location on the card given to me that morning and fired for where it should be. Two maintenance employees watched as I carded a 3 putt bogey on the hole with no flag.

Playing at altitude is a wonderful thing for the male ego. The thin air adds roughly 15% distance to your game. This means if you normally hit a drive 270 yards, at altitude you will now hit your drives 310 yards. A few holes were necessary to become acclimated to this increase in distance but the results were staggering. Hole 9 is 446 yards from the tees I was playing this morning. After my drive, I was left with a chip of 54 yards - that's a John Daly-esque drive of 392 yards!

My play was adequate but not exceptional and I ended the morning round with a score of 86. Unfortunately, because I left my camera at Willy's, I was unable to capture any photos of this beautiful course which crawls up and down the rock cliffs which form Castle Pines. Instead of having original pictures, I've download and inserted a few pics from the website.

ROUND #33 - RIVERDALE DUNES GOLF COURSE

I felt naked on the golf course without my camera and after departing Castle Pines I stopped by Willy's to pick it up. Riverdale Dunes is a rare bird - it's a links style municipal course north of Denver designed by my favorite course architect Pete Dye. Dye crafted this municipal golf course out of windswept dunes and open mountain meadows. There are 2 courses at the facility the Dunes course and the Knolls course - the Dunes being the more praised of the two. Greens fees and a cart cost $34 dollars - a steal compared to D.C. prices. Through the first 13 holes the course was good but not exceptional. It is the closing 5 holes that set this course apart from others in the area. These holes are superior in design and utilize Pete Dye's signature railroad ties to perfection to frame fairways and bunkers and separate this section of the course from the rest.

My play was good as I ended the round with a score of 81 - improving 5 strokes upon my performance earlier in the morning. The wind made the round difficult but I began to learn how to adjust my game by lowering the trajectory at which the ball leaves the clubface in order to keep the ball below the wind.

The funny story for the day was that after taking a picture of the 4th hole, I set my camera on the ground where it would remain until a 2-some picked it up about 45 minutes later. The realization I had left my camera came crashing down on me at the 12th hole. After debating my options, I felt it best to finish the round and look for the camera afterwards. I checked unsuccessfully with the proshop after the round about the camera and began to backtrack the course. I encountered the 2-some at the 12th hole and they presented me with the camera to which I exclaimed "you are a god." I followed the cart path back through the finishing holes to take the photos I had missed the first time through.

Morning Course: The Ridge at Castle Pines North
Score: 86
Afternoon Course: Riverdale Dunes
Score: 81
Handicap: 10.2
Overnight Location: Denver, Colorado
Tomorrow's Course: None
Tomorrow's Overnight Location: Denver, Colorado

RED ROCKS

The next day Willy woke early to renew his medical - a requirement of any pilot. He finished in the early afternoon and returned home. I convinced him to try his luck at golf be accompanying me to the driving range. He quickly became attached to the driver and soon began hitting 180 yard weak slices. With a wedge he had less fortune, and the driver became the go to club for the 30-odd balls remaining at his station. Once finished at the range, we journeyed to Red Rocks Ampitheater. Red Rocks is a concert venue carved from deep red stone at the foot of the Rocky mountains. The fan shaped outdoor auditorium creates one of the most striking show venues on the planet. While not in use, the ampitheater doubles as an unofficial recreation facility. Fitness buffs run the perimeter of the bleacher style seating and up and down the stairs which flank both sides. The iron welded support structure which rises 8 feet above stage level and juts in a few feet from either stage wing becomes a pull-up bar. The walkways between spectator seats are used as a respite to complete walking lunges between laps around the stands. At an altitude of over 1 mile above sea level, this venue could be the highest outdoor recreation/concert venue in the world.

Willy and I had no interest in joining the exercise craze - instead we soaked in the air and sun of the auditorium. We walked to the stage and gazed back to the place where 3,000 fans would congregate later that year and cheer performers like Big Head Todd and the Monsters, Lyle Lovett, and others. The walk back up the stairs left me winded and reminded of my current physical state. My fatigue was due in part to not being acclimated to the elevation, and part to the lack of cardiovascular exercise the past 2 months. Willy and I came up with one solution - a steak dinner. We headed to Whole Foods, found 3 perfect ribeye steaks and had a terrific meal followed by battles of chess. I retired to bed until the next day's adventure.

ARAPAHOE BASIN

The next morning we awoke early and decided that no golf trip would be complete without a day of skiing. I borrowed Willy's skis and gloves, used the gore-tex rain pants purchased in Seattle as ski pants, found the knit wool cap that came in handy at Newcastle Golf Club, and wore a fleece jacket that had been useless and taken up space in my car up until now. Willy, Amanda, and I left for Arapahoe Basin at 9:30 AM. The 1 hour trek winds through the Rockies and rises in elevation the entire way. The craggy, rocky terrain is spotted by rocks, snow, sheep, and goats. We arrived at the base of Arapahoe Basin at 10:30 with me feeling the pains of the elevation. Altitude sickness feels and acts like a hangover as your body is essentially dehydrated. I had not heeded Willy and Amanda's warnings to drink as much water as possible the previous 2 days and now I was paying the price. Visions raced through my head of Willy and Amanda skiing the entire morning as I slept in the car. Once this scenario became unacceptable, I staggered from the Subaru Forrester to the base lodge to rent ski boots. My preferrance is for a firm boot which causes the skis to respond quickly to commands from the legs. These boots were soft and instantly I knew I would have to do some serious work today.

Based on my current condition and the fact that I had not trained for or at elevation, I knew I would not have my legs for long. My best runs would have to come early and our first run ended in a mogul field that had yet to soften from the spring sun. Ice between the moguls made turning difficult and keeping a consistent speed nearly impossible. My legs began to work overtime to keep the skis within the linking s-shaped ruts next to the moguls. The oxygen drawn to my lungs from the hard work loosened the grip of altitude sickness and returned my body to normal. After a few runs bombed down the hill at high level speeds and few turns, we decided that we had our fill for the day. The last run was a mixture of speed and now softened moguls. The idea to retire for the afternoon was welcome as the seemingly easiest section of the moguls - the lower section with less pitch, smaller bumps, and a wider trough - became a chore to negotiate. My legs and the day were now finished. We packed the car and left the mountain at 1:30. A 2 hour nap once we arrived back in Denver brought me to life for the Mexican meal and chess that followed that evening.

The next morning I woke early in prepartion for my LONG trip to Milwaukee that day. The trip was to take 17 hours and I did not expect to complete it in 1 day. Regardless, I would try. At a distance from my car in the parking lot, I pressed the remote unlock button dangling from my keychain. Nothing. The signal has weakend from repeated use over the years so I walked further and depressed the button again. Nothing. My hear and head sank. The implications of this were ineveitable - it had happend twice before on this trip. A manual unlock of the driver door and turn of the ignition confirmed my fears. My battery was dead. I must have left the Sirius Satellite Radio on for the past 2 days in which I had not used my car once. Luckily, I was able to flag down a lady headed to work. After connecting the cables the car did not start. I sat in anticipation hoping that letting the car sit with cables attached would charge the battery, but ultimately I didn't have a clue. After 3 minutes of waiting, I turned the ignition and the engine turned over and began to hum. I felt what may be the single most exhilirating moment in the life of a human being. After thanking her, I began the journey at 7:45 in the morning which would end 17 hours later at 12:30 at night outside of Milwaukee. The trip was the most grueling day of driving I have experienced and hope to ever experience. Along the way, I booked 2 tee times for the following day, the first at Whistling Straits and the second at Blackwolf Run - both in Kohler, Wisconsin. I was to have my work cut out for me.