This is the last installment of our Northwest England trip with 

 of the podcast that we recorded on the last night of the trip prior to flying back to our respective locales. The trip included rounds at six courses over four days, starting with 

Lytham was the last stop on our whirlwind tour of Northwest England. Sitting here finishing this writeup months after the fact, my recollection of our time at Lytham is distinctly different from the rest of the trip. The placid conditions and brilliant sunshine we encountered for the previous three-plus days gradually morphed into a hazier, windswept day that felt more like October than March. Add the Sunday Scaries, an eerily empty course, and 206 bunkers to the mix and it was like the trip had ended and we were facing a layover in the tribal regions of Tora Bora before connecting homeward to our respective destinations. We rolled in from a morning round at Wallasey and drove the hour or so north, past Southport, to the conurbation of Lytham St Annes (and we all learned a new word!)

My expectations for Lytham were somewhat subdued, owing partly to playing five distinctly unique courses over the previous three days and partly to our host, James, tempering expectations for the afternoon when he glossed Lytham as a brutally difficult test lacking the scenic elements of the other courses on the itinerary (we later found out he grew up nearby and had a couple rough tournament rounds in juniors out there, possibly coloring his recollection a tad.) And while the course is hemmed in on all sides by houses and does not meet the sea, I found it distinctly charming and unique. The routing, the railroad tracks that abut the front nine, the clubhouse, the stereotypically English row-houses, and the walking paths criss-crossing the course all contributed to the atmosphere. But in the end the 206 bunkers are my enduring memory.

Any discussion of Lytham begins and ends with the routing, which is “out and back” all the way – the ninth green being the farthest point from the clubhouse. As such, the direction of the wind was of the utmost importance, and as was the case for the entirety of the trip, we were buffeted by a wind that came from the opposite that complicated matters on the normally-benign par three opening hole (love a one-shotter to lead things off – all too rare), turning a straightforward 200 yard poke into a litmus test that eviscerated anything with too much backspin. The 2nd hole was 425 dead into the wind, the third was 460 dead-in with train tracks all down the right on both. I probably looked more like a hobo than a golfer, having spent the bulk of the second and third holes on/over/near the tracks.

The one refrain that we heard from anyone before we showed up was “gotta make the most of the scoring opportunities on that front nine and then buckle up!” At this point in the round it seemed like everyone had just been blowing smoke up our asses.

The 4th hole (pictured above) provided a brief respite before the windward 5-9 stretch, all dead in. This flat, relatively nondescript piece of land has a lot more bite than bark, with hollows, mounding and rolls that would make Perry Maxwell blush. The bunkers were impeccably-placed, many times in clusters, which made the sheer number of them that much more astounding. The sixth (pictured below) provided a perfect example of this, with the fairway breaking more severely in multiple directions than most of the greens we played on the trip.

The stretch of holes 8 through 11 was my favorite of the entire trip – strategic, quirky and fun. The 8th is a 400 yard two-shotter to an elevated green, the train tracks all down the right and the green fronted by cavernous bunkers. At first glance the green looked out of place, belonging more at Bethpage, but once we reached the top of it and saw the rest of this corner of the property it blended in seamlessly. Below are the train tracks from 8 tee:The approach up the hill to 8 green:A spot of bother on 8:The 9th (below) is reminiscent of the corner pocket on a billiards table. Tucked into a quaint nook with a church behind, seven gratuitously deep bunkers, and the falsest of fronts. This one was like a mid-round recess – a distinct change of pace from the long irons we’d been grappling with.The 10th (below) is a fantastic shorter four with a demanding drive between two mounds, but since it was downwind for us it was nearly drivable, albeit to a severe back to front green. I’d decided that I loved the place by the time we reached the 11th, a hulking, dogleg-left par five. Instead of bunkers looming brutishly and aggressively, at Royal Lytham they blend seamlessly into the surrounds, sitting light on the terrain, some featuring curves that softened their presentation. Also, the penalty exacted for finding bunkers varied widely, as if Harry Colt very consciously assigned different penalty values ranging from a half shot to two shots depending upon how egregious your miss. That strategic nuance, coupled with the understated, classy curves, provide for an emminently fair test. Before I stop gushing about the 11th I’ll add that the tight rolls in the fairway were unforgettable.

Looking back at the bunker guarding the right side of 11 green:The 12th is as tough a flat, hazardless par three as you’ll find. Also notable because I somehow ended up in the “taint” between the right bunkers (seen below) and wrecked my round trying to thread the needle between them with a texas wedge, which I was hopelessly addicted to by the end of the trip.One of my keenest Open Championship memories is of Adam Scott bogeying the last four holes in 2012 to lose in an unbearable fashion to Ernie Els. I was gutted for him at the time and carried that with me as we played the closing stretch. The last six holes are par fours, and once you get through the 13th it gets downright mean, especially off the tee. Here’s genteel 13th:After growing accustomed to the long, consistent routing of the first twelve holes, the zig-zag of the last six is a jolt, as each hole plays in a distinctly different direction, making shot shape a priority. With sand hills outlining the fairways, OB directly right of 14 green, a semi-blind approach into the 464 yard 15th, a completely blind tee shot on the short 16th, the sixteen bunkers lining the 467-yard hellscape that is the 17th, and the menacing lines of fairway bunkers on the 18th it this is undoubtedly one of the most demanding finishing stretches in golf. You can’t hide. If you get out of position you get exposed quickly and bleed out to close your round out (unless you’re Seve, who I would’ve paid top dollar to watch shape the ball around this course with a balata). The 18th is eminently fun – so gettable, yet so much trouble lurking at the same time. I apologize for the lack of pictures of the last five holes – the lighting got a little dark and we were grinding! Here’s a look at 15 tee showing the expanse of the property:

Of the six courses we played this was the one that I yearn to go back and play the most, particularly late in the season when it plays even firmer (and also on an occasion when we can enjoy the macked-out clubhouse, as our timing did not allow us to spend any time in there.) The course presents a unique strategic challenge, forcing decisive shots on every nearly every hole and rewarding those who can shape the ball and hold the wind.

This write-up led me down the rabbit hole of Opens heat Royal Lytham & St Annes and I had a few takeaways, mostly having to do with this being the ultimate “horses for courses” venue for the choicest ballstrikers (see: Duval, Sorenstam, Lehman, Jones, Els):

Because of the way Adam Scott lost in 2012, Ernie Els doesn’t seem to get enough credit for his 68-68 weekend. In the other two times the Open was held here during his career he finished T2 (’96 when Lehman won) and T3 (’01 when Duval won)

Peter Thomson, who won seemingly everywhere we played on the trip, finished solo second in ’52, then won in ’58, fifth in ’63, T3 in ’69, and T26 at the age of 50 in ’79.

Nicklaus never won here but he stacked up a few top fives (in the midst of his 18 year stretch in the Open when he finished outside the top 10 just once (a T12) and outside the top 5 just twice. Insane.

BigCat should’ve been right there in 2012 – tripled 6 and then bogeyed 9, 13, 14, 15 coming in to lose by four. Not good!

All said, perfect place to close out the long weekend. I’d highly recommend hitting Lytham & St Annes on a day when you’re playing just one round, and after you have a few rounds under your belt on the trip, as you’ll want your game sharp and your tank full for a course that demonstrates better than most how to defend par without distance.Special thanks to James’ dad, 

England Golf Trip Part VI: Royal Lytham &#038; St Annes

When you think about traveling abroad to play golf, the first two places you probably think of are Scotland and Ireland. I’ve been fortunate to play a lot of golf in the British Isles, yet I was completely in the dark with my understanding of the quality of the golf courses in England. James Somerside from 

 reached out to us to discuss the idea of introducing me and Tron to northwest England’s golf scene. We managed to pull together a trip on relatively short notice, at which point James started working his magic planning out the golf and logistics. As we hopefully capture in this and the posts to follow, both the quality of the golf and the richness of the experience along England’s “Golf Coast” were revelatory.

In addition to this summary post on Wallasey, and the other posts that are to follow, please check out both 

 of the podcast that we recorded on the last night of the trip prior to flying back to our respective locales.

The trip included six incredible courses over the course of four days, starting with 

We grabbed some gas station baps and coffee and made our way to the fifth stop of the trip: Wallasey. You might think that after three straight days of sunshine, we were due to be brought back down to Earth. Not even close. We had one more 36 hole day in ahead of us before returning to the daily grind, and were determined to soak up every last minute of it.

Similar to Royal Liverpool, Wallasey sits right off a main road, and lacks the standard dramatic drive from civilization to hallowed private grounds. I like it. As was a common theme on this trip, the air of exclusivity so common in stateside was almost non-existent, affording us a comfort level and sense of belonging throughout the week. Facing the clubhouse from the parking lot you see the first tee immediately to the right. Blown away by the quaintness of the scene I told Tron on the spot that I would be writing the review for this track.

Wallasey eases you in with a rather simple par four opener. Enjoy it while you can, because the second hole is 458 yards of hell. It was on this hole that Dr. Frank Stableford devised the scoring system that still bears his name:

“I was practising on the 2nd fairway at Wallasey one day in the latter part of 1931, when the thought ran through my mind that many players in competitions got very little fun since they tore up their cards after playing only a few holes and I wondered if anything could be done about that.”

If reading this from the states, our definition of Stableford scoring (now commonly referred to as modified stableford) is different than the one used in the British Isles. In the Queen’s version you get zero points for a double bogey or worse, one point for a bogey, two for a par, three for a birdie, and four for an eagle. This system is so common on this side of the Atlantic that I tend to hear British and Irish people refer to their point total more often than their total score. This is a cool piece of history about the club, and they go out of their way to make sure you don’t ever forget it. “Home of Stableford” is front and center on the scorecard, yardage book, and even on polos in the pro shop. While I can appreciate the nod towards history, the golf course stands on its own as far as its memorability, and it being the “Home of Stableford” is more of a footnote.

But back to the second hole: it’s a big boy dogleg right par four. The landing area is wide and invites you to swing freely with a driver. However, it’s still rather demanding, and you need to decide how much of the corner you want to take on. You’ll likely still need a mid to long iron to get to the green that’s guarded with a bunker in the front right. None of us played the hole well, but we all walked off marveling at how well it’s stood the test of time. The third goes up a large hill, in turn dramatically concealing the scene that awaits at number four. Traversing the hill backing the green you get your first glimpse of the ocean and the fourth and seventeenth in all this glory. I was speechless.

Easily the best view of the entire trip. A stunning and friendly par five that, with the sea birds cawing and the Irish Sea lapping against the shore is as soothing to the ears as it is to the eyes. The water sits far enough back that it doesn’t really come into play, and with the seventeenth sitting comfortably to the left, you’re granted full authorization to begin your launch sequence. The drop off is much more dramatic than it appears in the picture above, and the ball stays in the air forever as gravity gradually takes over. The setting right up against the water reminded me of both the 7th at Ballybunion and the 4th at Pacific Dunes, but with more elevation.

With the locals walking their dogs along the beach and the sun on our backs I could have lingered on this hole all afternoon and encapsulated the weekend more than any other hole we played. The fifth is a nice little par three heading back out towards the sea and the views are just as good as the previous hole. I’ll let Tron walk you through that one:

This “superstar Fred McGriff” back-to-back combination was fantastic, and easily the signature stretch of the course. Out in the open with no protection from the dunes you’re forced to take at least one club more just to avoid a short iron ballooning up into the air. I’ll never tire of playing these kinds of shots in links golf. I’d be fine with never hitting a full iron shot again. Flighted six irons all day baby!

The 7th hole is when things started to go very wrong for Tron. I didn’t see the contact, but I 

 it. The sound was unmistakable. He went full Webb Simpson. You NEVER go full Webb Simpson. A shank that went OB circa Steve Stricker at the 2013 US Open, and his psyche was perhaps permanently damaged.

Fast forward to the 8th hole: Tron had a 40 yard pitch for his third. He proceeded to hosel it 

. My initial reaction was just to drop my jaw in amazement. But when the ball shot through the brush at breakneck speed, only to land 

 in a pheasant’s nest, the laughter could be contained no more. The pheasant went NUTS, assuming that Tron’s Chrome Soft was making a personal attack on its family values. As it poked its head out to see who had stirred its slumber, squawking at the top of its lungs, we were in tears laughing at both the shot, and the epic display of bravado by the pheasant.

Three holes later, Tron was doing all he could to get wedge out of his hands:

The further we got into the weekend, the more willing we were to take putter from 40+ yards out (wait until you see what James did on 18 at Royal Lytham). Your ego might not encourage it, but the turf does.

The 12th was a savage little par three called Old Glory that was something out of 

. The picture below also give you a good sense of the property on the inland side of the dunes.

There are a few holes at Wallasey in the middle stretch that are a bit underwhelming, but as I go back through my yardage book and visualize these holes again, I’m reminded just how much I enjoyed the walk around this place. This was no doubt aided by yet another flawless day of sun, and what ended up being my best round of the trip by quite a few strokes, but every hole from 11 on in was a good mix of birdie chances, great challenges, nice views, and strong vibes.

The 17th is an absolute mammoth. I’m confident that the adjacent downhill downwind par five 4th would easily play to a lower scoring average than this uphill, into-the-wind 457 yard par four that cuts right toward a green that’s cradled into heather. It took all I had off the tee, and a flushed three iron to barely reach the green just off to the left. Easily the hardest hole on the course on this day, as I would not imagine it was designed to play into the teeth of this wind.

The 18th hole is a bit funky, with a huge undulation in the fairway placing a premium on accuracy. But the approach frames the clubhouse and the small patio out back quite nicely, to the point where it feels like you can bank your approach off the bricks. A group of members playing in front of us was gathered and seated to enjoy the rare March sun, and for a moment I pictured what it would be like to be a member there, vibing with your friends week after week, drink in hand. Similar to how they send you off on the first tee, the tight quarters give an air of intimacy and a lasting final image from a distinctly fun golf course.

Our tee time for the afternoon at Royal Lytham was a tight one, and we weren’t sure if we were going to get to play all 18. We hustled up the coast to make it to Lytham in time.

. Stunning views and some really fun holes. The 

England Golf Trip, Part V: Wallasey

 reached out to us to discuss the idea of introducing Soly and I to a sample of what northwest England has to offer. We managed to pull together a trip on relatively short notice, at which point James started working his magic planning out the golf and logistics. As we hopefully capture in this and the posts to follow, both the quality of the golf and the richness of the experience along England’s “Golf Coast” were revelatory.

In addition to this summary post on Liverpool and the other posts that are to follow, please check out both 

 of the podcast that we recorded on the last night of the trip prior to flying back to our respective locales. The trip included six incredible courses over the course of four days, starting with 

Royal Liverpool played host to day three of the trip. Our batteries fully charged after sleeping in a bit, Soly, James and I relished the opportunity to show up early and spend a leisurely day at one course after a couple hectic ones. The club is located in the town of Hoylake, a quick drive west from Liverpool, and we were charmed from the moment we pulled up. The club’s PGA pro, Michael Jones, provided a warm welcome and would later join us for a few holes on the inward nine.

As soon as you pull past the gate into the intimate car park, you’re hit with this stunning clubhouse view.

With the luxury of time on our hands, we wandered through the halls soaking up the memorabilia related to Big Cat’s ’06 triumph, and Rory’s ’14 ball-striking fiesta. All of the greats are pictured, going all the way back to the early 1900’s. There was even a Francis Ouimet sighting! From the dining room, you can see right out onto the putting green, the first tee/fairway, and even all the way to the edge of the property and the houses that manage to compliment the periphery without being intrusive. A vast piece of land with a quaint Dickensian border – vibes!

After a standout meal at the club china, we headed out to the driving range for the only range session of the entire trip. This proved to be a disastrous decision, as I started thinking about my swing and quickly entered a dark place. I scurried over to the putting green directly behind the clubhouse and spent a few minutes putting and marveling at the expansiveness of the property. Based entirely upon watching The Open, I arrived expecting a flat, rather nondescript piece of property. And while it is a flattish property, that is immediately overshadowed by the sheer scale and enormity of the course. For that reason Royal Liverpool doesn’t appear all that sexy on tv – the grandstands chop up the expansiveness, making the property feel compartmentalized and small. Liverpool’s scale 

We stepped to the first tee (The Open routing is different, with the normal 17 & 18 serving as 1 & 2 during The Open – for the purposes of this recap I will refer to the regular routing) recalling the strong opinions I was bombarded with in the lead-up to the trip: everyone had a take regarding the first hole. What otherwise would be a bunkerless, flat par four is complicated by OB stakes on the inside corner of the dogleg guarding the driving range in the middle of the property. I didn’t find this at all troubling – this feature added a much-needed air of danger to the hole and rewarded a bold line coupled with a demanding butter-cut.

The polarizing opener (on our second loop)

The next few holes, “Road” (a timid par four), “Long” (a well-bunkered par five) and “New” (a normally demanding one-shotter that played easier in the benign conditions) meander in and out of a residential corner of the property. I realized early on that Liverpool isn’t the type of course that will beat you down or trick you – the terrain is largely flat, even the greens, and it’s just a matter of driving the ball well and being decisive with approaches. The fifth hole, “Telegraph,” is an excellent example of that ethos – a long four that puts the onus on getting off the tee and onto the right side of the fairway. From there you navigate gorse and two devilish greenside bunkers to get an outside look at birdie on a flat green. The greens are pretty chill once you’re on them, the trick is coming in from the correct angle.

The holes got progressively funkier as we from there, with a 400-yard par four with a blind tee shot over a briar patch that sits out of bounds down the left. Navigate that and you’re home free. Once you reach the eighth it’s game on. “Far,” by way of a straightforward par five, takes you way out to the edge of the property where you feel a distinctly San Francisco vibe – baller spreads, funky trees…shit, I felt like I was playing a nicer version of the Presidio course!

I can’t overstate how perfect the dunescapes on this side of the course are for golf. Holes nine (Punchbowl) and ten (Dee) are exceptional fours that demand stellar drives and deliver gorgeous views of the River Dee. Next is the eleventh, aptly labeled “Alps” for its simple yet effective mounding. The twelfth “Hilbre” is the best hole on the course – a long, sharp dogleg left that forces commitment and strategy off the tee to prepare adequately for the approach into one of the more severe greens out there. Thirteen was a short, enjoyable part 3 to a nuanced green that can yield unforeseen challenges. Fourteen is a beast of a par five wiggling right through the meat of the property. Fifteen is no easier – a long four into the wind featuring eight bunkers.

Playing the 16th was a highlight of the trip, especially considering Soly’s affinity for Rory and his legendary 5-iron approach there from a gratuitous distance. Another hole flanked by OB on the inside of the dogleg, you must go over the driving range on your second shot if going for the green. The green is well-bunkered and much more attractive with the clubhouse set behind it. The last two holes are both long fours featuring newish green complexes with more slope than many of the others on the course. After playing these two I certainly feel the club/R&A made the right decision to use these two as the opening holes for tournaments.

In all, the course features a wide variety of holes and distinct areas of the property that feel starkly different from one another. The variety adds flavor to the course but also makes it feel a little chopped up at times. A few of the new greens don’t quite match the others on the course as they are narrower and feature more undulation, though these greens were some of my favorites on the course (13 & 17 in particular).

Of all the courses we played on the trip, Royal Liverpool was the best experience. Perfect weather, long sunset, great company, and a club that truly emphasizes hospitality. We were encouraged to play extra holes, enjoy a few beers in the clubhouse and hang out as long as we so desired. And all of this despite the fact that the club was holding its Annual General Meeting and there were scores of members in the clubhouse, many of whom were in from out of town. Not once did we feel anything but welcome. Can’t wait to get back.

. Authentic vibe, phenomenal hospitality, and a lively layout. Stern but fair. 

Hoylake was transcendent. Pure class. Floored by the level of hospitality and vibe.

England Golf Trip, Part IV: Royal Liverpool

When you think about traveling abroad to play golf, the first two places you probably think of are Scotland and Ireland. I’ve been fortunate to play a lot of golf in the British Isles, yet I was completely in the dark with my understanding of the quality of the golf courses in England. James Somerside from Golfbreaks.com reached out to us to discuss the idea of introducing myself and Tron to a sample of what northwest England has to offer. We managed to pull together a trip on relatively short notice, at which point James started working his magic planning out the golf and logistics. As we hopefully capture in this and the posts to follow, both the quality of the golf and the richness of the experience along England’s “Golf Coast” were revelatory.

In addition to this summary post on Royal Birkdale, and the other posts that are to follow, please check out both 

Following the ethereal morning session at West Lancs we glided about thirty minutes up the coast to Royal Birkdale. The drive ambled through pastoral English hamlets and the coastline became more rugged. Buoyed by a proper cup of black coffee (which proved to be a surprisingly elusive commodity on the trip), we arrived to find a harsh dunescape, seemingly removed but not isolated from the nearby Irish Sea. Immediately memories abounded: IBF’s 64-66 weekend in ’91, Big Cat’s missed opportunity in ’98 (backed up a Saturday 77 with a final round 66 to miss playoff by a single shot), and the crisis averted in ’09 when Norman made noise and Poulter led midway through the final round before Padraig Harrington neutralized the threat in heroic fashion. With the Open back at Birkdale this July, Soly and I were keenly interested in scoping out the scene and correspondingly this recap goes a bit deeper into each specific hole due to the relevance of this year’s Championship.

Pristine evening scoping out Royal Birkdale in advance of 

. The course is absolutely mint. Incredible day of golf. 

, we ambled out to the first tee and commenced 18 holes of beautiful, masochistic golf. From the outset, Birkdale offered up a first-class experience that, owing to the dunes, isolated you from the outside world in a way that the other courses we played did not. The quaint throwback starter’s hut and stern, yet straightforward, opening par four provided a warmer welcome than the Skechers display featured prominently in the pro shop. The subsequent two holes are also two-shotters that make it incumbent upon the player to value precision over distance. That decision repeated itself throughout the day, which prompted the group to agree on that the course is very “Spiethy” in that it requires a disciplined approach and should stand up well against many of the bomb-and-gougers plentiful in the professional ranks these days. Please keep in mind that the rough was down, the greens slower, and we were presented with an opposite (and much softer) wind than what is typical, and 

The fourth hole brought us to the first of Birkdale’s par three’s, a group which we found to be quite exceptional. This one was a long, well-bunkered affair with a flattish green. While Birkdale’s greens aren’t severe they do feature a number of tricky run-offs and swales around the peripheries.

The fifth heads west toward the dunes, typically into the wind, and features a charming dogleg right that will be an interesting case study on course management during the Open should there be a benign day. Despite the hole only measuring 346 yards, Soly and I struggled to figure out if it would be worth someone like DJ bombing one over the corner and threading the minefield of bunkers fronting the green. Through the first five holes we found the course to be solid, if unspectacular.

Then we arrived to the 6th hole, at which point Birkdale stopped being polite and started being real. 

. Heading south along the dunes, and though a couple hundred yards from the water, there’s a distinctively rugged beach vibe. A prototypical “four and a half” the dogleg right features two bunkers guarding the bend, some pretty gnarly mounds down the right and an uphill approach to a deep, long green – exactly the type that makes you question why par even matters.

The approach into the mad real 6th, with the dunes abutting the right side.

Panorama from 6 tee provides scale of dunes on all sides.

The next is a cheeky one-shotter with a hellish array of pot bunkers (a common theme indeed).

One of seven bunkers on the sadistic 7th.

The 8th is a girthy par four back toward the clubhouse and played dead into the teeth of the wind for us. Soly hit one of the better long irons I’ve ever seen a playing partner hit – frozen rope off a crazy stance, threading a couple scary bunkers fronting the left to reach a green replete with what the yardage book calls some “very deceptive borrows.”

Approach into 8 – positioning key with that hole location.

The 9th is a greenlight special – blind tee shot but once the pros figure out their lines they’ll be in the go-zone. After making the turn the 10th is the inside spoon lining the 9th. Well-bunkered and turning to the left in pretty dramatic fashion, the hole places a premium on placement in the fairway. Again, not punishing but plenty of trouble lurking should one get out of position. The eleventh is a longish par four that coerces you into strategic decisevness off the tee with several menacing bunkers.

The four of us reached the 12th with our rigs in varying degrees of disarray, with the exception of Soly, who was building a score. Of the group, only I found the narrow putting surface. Soly’s shot rolled off the front of the green, slithering into the bunker guarding the front right, and compounded by the fact that this particular bunker (along with a few others throughout the course) was roped off as ground under repair. He found the designated drop area directly behind said bunker and was tasked with hitting a flop shot off a bare lie to an elevated convex green with little-to-no green to work with and four different run-offs distinctly in play. This was our WELCOME TO ENGLAND moment. He proceeded to make five and we trudged silently to the next tee.

The next hole is terrifying yet thrilling – a nearly 500 yard par four affair playing dead into the wind on this particular day (likely opposite during The Open) and featuring a trench running down almost the entirety of the left side and penal bunkers down the right. Timeless shit – dropped delicately into the sand hills, this was one of the standouts of the entire trip.

Fourteen is the final one-shotter on the course, a bit longer than the others and eminently fair, any misses will be swiftly rebuked, especially if the wind is up.

14 – we realized by this time that the greenskeeper was in some sort of mood that morning.

The final four holes feature over 2,000 yards traversing over and around rugged terrain, 40 bunkers, immense dunes and the most dramatic elevation changes of the round en route back to the clubhouse. Any enthusiasm for the birdie opportunity afforded by a par five quickly evaporated while navigating the narrow fifteenth, which features eleven bunkers within 150 yards of the green and a spiny putting surface. A precision par five if there ever was one. The 16th was all about the drive – a demanding uphill four to a green that will reject any #LPCP approaches that aren’t intently hit. The 17th is another complicated par five, as evidenced in the flyover below. Sided by OB down the right (a lovely dog park and Hillside Golf Club on the other side of the…hill), heather down the left and theatrical mounds throughout: the contouring felt like something you’d find at the blue-blooded clubs of New England, only these contours were completely natural. From the fairway, the green looked about three yards wide.

Both the 15th and 17th tempt you into being aggressive and then body-slam even the slightest mistake, with the contours and tall grass multiplying misses. In hindsight, 

Padraig Harrington’s decision to go for 17 from 280 yards out ahead by two shots in the final round of the 2008 Open

 is both insane and legendary. Soly should be glad that his round went by the wayside on the 12th, because the 17th would’ve been even more painful judging by how our entire group played it.

Battered and brutalized by the back, we reached 18. The Championship tee box is set back on the right, making the hole more of a dogleg. We played it from the left set of tee boxes – similar length but much straighter. Perhaps I recall this hole more fondly than my playing partners as I hit what was my shot of the day to about 25 feet. A world-class finishing hole, featuring a tear-drop green with a pinched landing area, accuracy and distance control are essential on the approach.

To the shock/awe/amazement/delight of a few members enjoying pints on the veranda, I proceeded to completely miss the hole from about three feet on the comebacker en route to a horrifying three-putt to close out the day.

If the debacle on the 12th was our “Welcome to England” gut punch, then sitting on the back porch of the iconic, delightfully quirky clubhouse whilst enjoying a pint and a bowl of delicious broccoli stilton soup served as our “Welcome to England” embrace after a stout test. We marveled at some of the history on display in the clubhouse and then opted for the scenic route back to Liverpool. On the way we passed by Hillside, Formby, and Southport & Ainsdale Golf Clubs, all said to be remarkable in their own right and all deserving of a round during a return trip to the area. I envy those headed to Southport for The Open.

In retrospect, that aforementioned bowl of soup is a good analogy for Birkdale: hearty, timeless and more than a little funky.

England Golf Trip, Part III: Royal Birkdale

In addition to this summary post on West Lancashire, and the other posts that are to follow, please check out both 

. Quintessential links course, yet so playable. Perfectly enjoyable walk. A must play. 

When doing these summaries, it can be challenging to find the proper adjectives to describe the experience without repeating yourself. I’m just gonna throw out a quick “sorry I’m not sorry” in advance of all of these next five posts, because there are only so many synonyms in the English language for the word “incredible”, and I’m not exactly a wordsmith (Tron’s note: Soly’s a takesmith!). Our morning at West Lancashire was the quintessential links golf experience, and blew us away.

The shock factor that came with laying eyes on the lush green grass framed by the brown heather surrounding the first fairway may have been influenced by the fact that we had next to no expectations for this day. Everyone has heard of Royal Birkdale, Royal Liverpool, and Royal Lytham, but to be honest, I had no idea until this trip that they were all located within an hour of each other in and around the Liverpool area. Despite a decent reservoir of knowledge on top golf courses around the world. But I had never heard of West Lancashire before James arranged a tee time for us, and with those three courses previously mentioned also on our itinerary, it was hardly the headliner. Getting the opportunity to play a hidden gem like West Lancs to supplement The Open rota courses is what helped make this trip so incredibly special.

The fact that I hadn’t heard of West Lancs is more of an indictment of myself, and not of the course. The club is steeped in history and dates back to 1873, and is one of the ten oldest clubs in all of England. Like many old courses, it’s situated near a railway line which frames several holes on the back nine. When you realize that the reason that it sits so close to the train station is because that’s how people got to golf courses back in the day, you start to feel the history of the property at a different level. There are touches of the old glory all over the place, yet it somehow blends seamlessly with the modern game.

The first thing that we noted about the setup was the simplicity of the operation. The unassuming clubhouse immediately delivers the message that you’re here for the golf. This may sound like a criticism, but it’s the polar opposite. You’re welcome to tote your bag right through the front door, and you walk through what feels like a sort of disorganized caddyshack. The carpet in this room is like worn astroturf, which inherently tells you it’s fine to wear your cleats through it, throw your bag down, and not feel like you have to tip-toe around the place. In the states, it seems like country clubs get into pissing contests with each other over the size and the grandeur of their clubhouses, missing the point of golf entirely. Here the membership dues aren’t put towards a posh 19th hole. They go instead towards the maintenance of the 18 holes that sits just beyond those glass windows.

As was the theme of the trip, we were greeted with perfect sunshine, and unseasonably warm temperatures. With a 7:30 tee time, and morning forecasts in the 30’s (Fahrenheit), we laced up the tights and Under Armour underneath the day’s scripting (I rocked my trademark blueberry pants – before we left the hotel Tron asked why I hadn’t paired the white belt with them and tried to surreptitiously get me to put it on). The extra warmth proved unnecessary, and we were shedding layers before we even teed off.

I legitimately had trouble wiping the smile off my face when I looked at the first hole. It’s not an incredibly unique hole, but the whole setting was sublime. Fresh out of European winter, I was hesitant to book this trip before Q2 even hit considering the UK’s reputation for weather. And here we were on a Friday parading down the first fairway at West Lancs with our bags and rusty golf games in tow on an absolutely perfect morning.

It may sound hyperbolic, but these types of walks are truly spiritual for a golf nut. The different colors of the grass, the sound of the sea just over the dunes, and even the smells in the air give you sensory overload. It’s impossible to be anything but giddy. The way the sun hits a links course in this hour, the way the turf flows right into the small sod-faced bunkers, and the hint of dew collecting on your shoes all rolls up into a feeling of golf nirvana. How many chances in your life do you get to do this kind of thing? We only get so much time off a year from the daily grind, and there’s absolutely nothing I’d rather be doing than hamming it up with your buddies down the fairway of a great links golf course.

The second hole was one of the best on the course. The back tee (noooo big deal – no seriously, no biggie – this was one of only two courses we tipped it out on) is elevated, and gives you a great view of the sea. With the winds down, the fairways start to look a lot wider and they actually seem uncharacteristically welcome. West Lancs is not built to handle the huge crowds of a major championship, but it does boast a long history of Open Championship qualifying events, along with many other tournaments. It’s got all of the elements of a distinctive, worldly championship golf course, just without the theater capacity surrounding the holes.

I’m always so impressed with courses that age well, particularly a course like this one that is approach its 150th birthday. The game was completely different back in the day, and courses were able to be fit into spaces that wouldn’t work if you were designing a course today. Some old properties don’t have the space or the capability to expand their golf holes, and any effort to redesign the links usually means jamming tee boxes into awkward locations. This could drastically affect the design of the hole as it was intended, and the charm of the original layout can get lost in the process. There was none of this at West Lancs, and while I surely don’t have a complete history of the updates made to this course over time, I can say that it has aged as gracefully as Christie Brinkley.

Here’s an idea of the perfect conditions we had, and how the heather frames the fairways so beautifully on this shot off the 4th tee:

We strolled through the front nine with the sun continuing the rise, and the benign conditions slowly faded away along with the dew. As we made the turn to the back, the wind really started to howl. That we were able to ease into the course, and the trip, without a stiff wind on the front nine was a gift – more so than any other course we were able to enjoy each other’s company without having to worry about the variables inherent with wind, and dial in our swings a bit.

The par threes impressed us throughout the entire trip, and perhaps none more so than at West Lancs. The sixth (captured here) seems rather simple, but with the pin tucked behind the bunkers on the right, was deceptively inviting, and of course I took the bait.


Another hole that stuck out to me was the par five 11th. The hole runs along the aforementioned train track, with an ancient stone wall dividing the course from the commuters. The tee sets you up to aim towards the wall and try to draw the ball back down the length of the fairway. Here’s Tron dialing up a draw down the left side.

While this thought might terrify Branden Grace, it was a really fun shot, and a great opportunity to spray a little sauce as the train casually zoomed by.

with flyover videos. At the risk of highlighting the majority of the holes on the course, Tron and I felt 2, 4, 8, 11 and 14 were exceptional, along with the aforementioned one-shotters. Also, the drive on 18 is among the hardest I’ve ever played, especially when the wind gets going, with water down the right, bunkers and heather down the left and a cheekily narrow fairway. The overriding theme at West Lancs, as with most links, is course management. The bunkers look deceptively simple (even in relation to the other courses we played on this trip), but they’re strategically placed all over the course, and are the first thing you look at when you open up the yardage book. If you catch one well, you can really run out in these fairways and if you get too aggressive you run this risk of getting funneled in. Tron’s tee ball suffered that fate:


Waited until James’ disgusting yellow ball was out of the frame to take this picture on 11

With the green surfaces casually rolling into the next teeing area, the golf course becomes so much more inherently walkable and natural. This was probably the most enjoyable walk of all the courses we played as there was just enough elevation change to provide views of the Irish Sea, but without making it a strenuous hike. There would never be any need to take a cart on a course like this, and it’s the way golf was intended to be played.

Of all of the places we played on this trip, this was the course I felt most at home, and the one that I could most visibly picture myself being a member at. It’s certainly helped by the fact that we were greeted with a smile and a welcome in the pro shop, and that the club was happy to show off their layout. There was no feeling of pretentiousness or exclusivity that you might think there would be with such a historic club. I’ll be back in the area for The Open this year, and I’m already lining up another chance to tour around this gem.

As mentioned prior, we knew next to nothing about West Lancs, and I’m glad we were able to experience it that way (despite the couple dozen people who went out of their way on twitter to tell us “oh man , West Lancs is awesome, enjoy!”) This is where both Tron and I mentioned where we see the value in a touring company such as Golfbreaks.com putting a golf package together for you (yes, they did pay for our trip, but they’re not paying me to say this). While we had heard of the Open rota courses, we would have had to do quite a bit of research to have stumbled upon this place. The Golfbreaks.com folks have the knowledge of the area courses, and the relationships at the respective courses to get you setup to play at the best courses. They do the digging for you, and it’s at no greater cost that what you would be paying if you were setting it all up on your own. If you’re making your way all the way across the pond wasting a half day on what turns out to be an uninspiring course can be demoralizing. Conversely, feeling like you’re being let in on a well-kept secret like West Lancs can make the whole trip feel worth it just on it’s own.

 for a truly memorable morning of golf at a very special place. I can’t wait to come back.

England Golf Trip, Part II: West Lancashire

When you think about traveling abroad to play golf, the first two places you think of are probably Scotland and Ireland. I’ve been fortunate to play a lot of golf in the British Isles, yet I was completely in the dark with my understanding of the quality of the golf courses in England. James Somerside from Golfbreaks.com reached out to us to discuss the idea of introducing us to a sample of what northwest England has to offer. Tron and I managed to pull together a trip on relatively short notice, at which point James started working his magic planning out the golf and logistics. As we hopefully capture in this and the posts to follow, both the quality of the golf and the richness of the experience along England’s “Golf Coast” were revelatory.

In addition to this summary post on the Belfry, and the other posts that are to follow, please check out both 

The trip included six incredible courses over the course of four days, starting with The Belfry, and followed by 

Options abound for getting to northwest England. I had some flexibility with regard to airport options, but considering Tron’s more limited flight choices coming from Florida, and the Windsor office location of Golfbreaks.com, we determined that London was the best place to meet. Our host James picked us up from the airport Thursday morning, and we were off to our 2:00 tee time on the Brazaban course at The Belfry.

I would hate to call a course that has hosted four Ryder Cup courses a “warmup” round, but considering the itinerary ahead of us, it was hard not to see it as such. We were tired, Tron was jet lagged from an overnight flight, and our games were (perpetually) rusty. The Belfry was an ideal way to break up the drive from London to Liverpool, and for a rabid Ryder Cup fan like myself, very cool to see in person.

When I travel to play golf, I’m looking for a different type of experience to the one that I can get at home (wherever that may be). The links courses in Scotland and Ireland have given me that experience, and it’s one that sticks with you pretty much for the rest of your life. Conversely, as a parkland course in central England, The Belfry was reminiscent of some of the best courses I’ve played stateside, and provided some variety to an otherwise links-heavy itinerary.

The Belfry is a fairly large resort situated in a geographically convenient spot between the major commercial hubs of England, and features three 18 holes courses, a large clubhouse, hotel, corporate events center, and even a night club (which the twitteratti reminded us of at every chance). We were fortunate enough to get a crisp-yet-comfortable 50 degree afternoon with sufficient wind for our tee time on the Brazaban course.

Of the six courses that we played, The Belfry was the only parkland style course. And while I swore to myself that I would not compare it to the rest of the slate, I feel like it’s important to point out that our experience was a bit inhibited by the condition of the course, and understandably so. The sandier turf at coastal links style courses is designed to handle the weather 12 months out of the year, and typically drains much better than a low-lying inland course with darker soil. That our trip was presaged by a few days of steady rain, plus the fact that it was March in England, added up to a course that was not yet in peak condition.

You may be looking at these pictures, seeing the most lush green grass you can imagine on a golf course, and wonder what the hell I’m talking about when I mention the course condition. I made the horrible mistake of busting out my white pants for this round, and by the second hole, I was splattered in mud all the way up to my knees. The grass had not fully taken form throughout the course, and there were enough mudballs here to give Ted Scott nightmares. The greens had just been punched/sanded, which is an expected sight considering the time of year and the weather that preceded us.

The golf course itself was a stern test, aided by winds gusting to 30 mph, soft fairways and damp air. We found ourselves hitting long irons and woods into some long par fours back into the wind, and struggling to carry the creek on the 225 yard, dead into the wind par-3 12th. There’s a lot of water hazards throughout the course, with the most memorable being the par five 3rd hole, the par four 6th, the par four 9th, the illustrious driveable par four 10th, and the remarkably demanding par four finisher.

The lighting was not great for this, but a drone shot of the 10th at The Belfry

The 10th is steeped in history, and really defines a classic match play hole. The decision as to whether or not to go for the green in competition is a real one. At the outset of a long anticipated trip the decision was less taxing. We were aided with a clear visual to the green that is not afforded to anyone who will be visiting here a month later, as trees protect the view of the narrow green from the tee box, and add an extra layer of intimidation.

Each of us hooked our tee shots left of the water and onto the hill abutting the left side of the creek. A quick consensus formed among the three of us and another set of balls were re-teed. Tron put one on the very front of the green (see below), and I hit a wind aided rocket way up into the air that plugged on the back of the green, and backed up to about 15 feet.

Second attempt at driving the 10th ended up here.

The 18th played into the wind for us, and was an absolute beast. The hole glides severely from right to left, but it’s hard to call it a dogleg since it’s all there in front of you. The tee box sets you up at a tough angle to the relatively narrow landing zone, and you’re left to decide how much of the water you want to take on. The further left you take it, the longer the carry, but the shorter the approach into a stiff wind and up a decent slope back towards the clubhouse. So many intense Ryder Cup matches have come down to this hole, and I can’t imagine trying to hit that tee shot and approach under all immense pressure.

To say that the 18th green is MASSIVE would be an understatement, and I was legitimately fearful that I didn’t have enough club for this putt.

We shook hands on the 18th green, and retired to the clubhouse for sustenance. I was amazed at how abuzz the place was – certainly a juxtaposition to the nearly empty course we’d just played. Cold beers, big screen tv’s and comfy chairs were a welcome sight to the three of us, and Tron’s face lit up as he realized that at 6:30pm the live golf coverage of the WGC Match Play was just heating up. We ambled around the clubhouse after a few pints and marveled at the walls adorned with Ryder Cup memorabilia, pictures, and startling reminders of ghosts of Ryder Cups past.

I enjoyed The Belfry overall. I think had we not had such an unbelievable lineup of links courses in great condition to follow, I would likely hold The Belfry in a higher regard. One of the course’s best features would be its exceptional condition, which is the shape that we’ve seen it in at the Ryder Cup throughout its history, and while we missed out on that, I think it says a lot about the vibe and the atmosphere that I can say that I enjoyed the course and would recommend it. Don’t go too far out of your way to play it, but it serves as a worthy compliment to a trip up to the northwest, particularly if you are en route from London.

No Laying Up

England

Writing

England Golf Trip Part VI: Royal Lytham & St Annes

England Golf Trip, Part V: Wallasey

England Golf Trip, Part IV: Royal Liverpool

England Golf Trip, Part III: Royal Birkdale

England Golf Trip, Part II: West Lancashire

England Golf Trip, Part I: The Belfry

England

Writing

England Golf Trip Part VI: Royal Lytham &#038; St Annes

England Golf Trip, Part V: Wallasey

England Golf Trip, Part IV: Royal Liverpool

England Golf Trip, Part III: Royal Birkdale

England Golf Trip, Part II: West Lancashire

England Golf Trip, Part I: The Belfry

England Golf Trip Part VI: Royal Lytham & St Annes