This past Monday, my brother Jerry and I enjoyed a "spa" day, but not that kind of spa. For golfers like us, a weekday caper at the Saratoga Spa golf course was as relaxing as a full treatment of massage, mud and rose petals at the other kind of spa (says the guy who clearly has never been to the other kind of spa).
Located at the state park of the same name, Saratoga Spa Golf has two courses, an executive course, and the championship course we played. www.saratogaspagolf.com
I'd never played the course and had only been to the park itself once 20 years ago to attend a wedding reception at the Gideon Putnam resort hotel, which is also on the grounds. I'd forgotten what a spectacular location it is. Entering the park, you think you're entering a sprawling estate with grand and elegant buildings sprinkled throughout the towering pines.
The golf pro shop is set next to the Victoria Pool complex, not to be confused with your community pool, which usually doesn't have columns at the front entrance.
The course blends seamlessly with its gracious surroundings. Stylish and playable, the course also has its share of trouble in the form of large bunkers and alleys of pine trees guarding many of the greens and fairways. It has the feel of a Robert Trent Jones course, but it was actually designed by William Mitchell. I'll have to check their architectural lineages to see if there's some overlap.
We teed off on number ten, which doesn't allow the course to put its best foot forward, as it's a rather plain, straight par 4, but not a bad tune up. It's guarded in front by two bunkers but its main defense is a green which slopes sharply back to front. Ironically our whole foursome all navigated the challenging green nicely, and I snaked in the longest putt of the bunch, a twenty footer down hill for par, after taking a drop from the poison ivy on my second shot, which turned out to be a good break. After I saw the first few holes on the front, I could see why they start play on the 10th, but I'll get to the first nine in due time.
The 11th is much more indicative of the rest of the course. Though not surrounded by trees, it has a large green complex. Not all the greens are huge, but many of them are set in bowls or ringed by mounds and bordered by bunkers, though the bunkers tend to be set back from the putting surface. It helps give the course a spacious feel even though most of it is cut through the trees.
Twelve is a straight away par 5 with a gaping bunker bordering the front of the green, one of the few where a run up is not possible. The 13th and 14th are par 4's in opposite directions, both routed around large bunkers cutting into the left side of the fairway. Those large bunkers jutting into the fairways are one of those traits reminiscent of Trent Jones' courses like the one at Cornell.
Fifteen is a mid-length par 3 and the 16th is a sweeping dogleg right to a green which is more out in the open than most of those that precede it.
Seventeen is a long par 5 back into the trees, and the finishing hole is a stout one with large line of trees on the right. A sweeping dogleg left, the tee shot on the 18th is played to a plateau fairway set to the right which skirts a low area on the left. Our playing companions said the low area used to be a huge bunker, but a grass bunker is less punitive, easier to maintain, and more in keeping with the rest of the course.
Kudos to Jerry as he parred the 18th to nip me by one stroke on our first nine. I was 3 shots ahead coming to that hole so I’ll let you do the math on what I carded on the 18th.
The front nine starts with a long par 4 that is a gentle dogleg right around trees and a low valley of fescue. The second is an interesting par-3 with a large bunkerless green out in the open, its only defense a large shelf guarding the right half of the green which sits behind and below it.
Three and four are probably the most memorable holes on the course, with the 3rd being a shortish par 5, but with a large lake short of the elevated green requiring golfers to decide to lay up or go for it. Our affable playing partners (I say affable because one in particular was a good sport about helping Jerry and I track down our golf balls as we sprayed them all over the park) said the 1st used to be a par 5 and the 3rd used to be a par 4, which must have been a brute. Par 4 or 5, I felt fortunate to make a 5 on the 3rd.
Four is not a long dogleg right par 4, but requires a precise tee shot over water avoiding a bunker and a grove of trees on the right. The tee shot needs to be placed properly in order to have a clear shot over a creek to the green surrounded by fronted by two bunkers. I could see where these holes could cause a back up if play started on number 1.
Five is a straightaway par 4, and six is a long par 5 requiring players to navigate a number of bunkers to the get the right angle to the green for the third shot. Seven is another solid long par 4 and eight is mid-length par 3 carved seamlessly from the trees, with a green sloping severely from back left to front right.
I’d say the 8th is my favorite hole on the course but the fact I hit it to 12 feet and curled in a birdie has nothing (as in everything) to do with that assessment. With the nines switched, nine also serves as a solid finishing hole, a curving dogleg left around a fairway bunker to a green guarded right and left with large bunkers. On the strength of the birdie and three other pars, I carded a solid 42 on the front, our second nine, getting the better of Jerry by a few for the day.
At first glance some might argue the course doesn't require a lot of strategy, or lacks -- to use the overused, but ill-defined golf architectural term -- "shot values". I would disagree. The strategy of a hole like the 13th or 14th wouldn’t seem to be complex: there are large fairway bunkers on the left side of each fairway so you would do well to avoid them. But it's not that simple. On either hole you can lay up short of it, hit a fade (for a righty) to the open right side, try to carry it with raw power, or shape a draw beyond it. Which play you choose might depend on the best angle to the pin and on the 14th a shot on the right side will bring the right greenside bunker into play, whereas the beefier 13th has bunkers guarding both the right and left front. The same type of strategy comes into play on a hole like the par-5 sixth, as the difficulty of the third shot and how the greenside bunkers come into play will vary quite a bit depending on where the player lays up.
Of course those are the thoughts I imagine occupy the minds of expert players. For our first nine especially, I was just trying to keep it out of the trees (with limited success) and wasn't worried too much about the bunkers.
The course was in good shape for a public facility, especially the greens. The fairways were a bit ragged and the sand in the bunkers seemed packed down, but overall, it was in acceptable condition.
It reminded me of Bethpage State Park's Black course. For one, it's also at a state park and set on a large piece of property, so the holes are generously spaced. It has a classic old feel cut through the trees with many of the holes defined by its bunkering. And while not as evident as at Bethpage, the Spa also has many holes bordered by patches of fescue, as I can attest first hand.
Certainly Saratoga Spa doesn't have the scale and drama of the Black, where the ferocious bunkers are carved from a much more rollicking terrain. The Spa is not overly punitive (another contrast with the Black). There’s no tangly underbrush, so wayward drives can usually be found and result in a pitch out of some degree instead of a lost ball. The Spa is also very walkable with no major portages between holes and relatively flat terrain.
This may be a reach, but given its 7141 yards from the back tees, with the right conditioning, narrowing of the fairways, longish rough, and some speed on the slopey greens, I think this course could host a pro-level tournament.
Jerry and I enjoyed a sandwich and a beer at the Spa's version of the 19th hole, Catherines, which has a publike, men's grill feel to it. It has outside seating in the courtyard of Victoria pool, so you can pretend you're in Saratoga to watch your horses run instead of being a working stiff taking a day off. But whether you're rich and famous or a working stiff, whether you're there to play golf or enjoy the other kind of spa day, the genteel setting is well worth the trip.
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Thursday, July 8, 2010
Turning Back the Clock at the Calvin
[Keeping with the big tent nature of this golf blog, the following is a musical interlude.]
Sitting in the sixth row of the Calvin Theater in Northampton on June 25th, I was almost brought to tears early in Mary Chapin Carpenter's first set. It was a mixture of emotions as MCC was returning to tour with a new album, "The Age of Miracles" after suffering a pulmonary embolism three years ago just before she was about to go on tour for her last album.
After she'd played a couple of songs from her new album and brought out a few of the old favorites, it struck me of what a body of work she has compiled. The first few bars of each song were always familiar, but I usually didn't recognize the tune right away because I know so many of her songs -- at least a half dozen albums' worth. As the set continued I kept thinking that I couldn't wait to pull out every one of her albums and listen to each one. In the weeks since the concert I've been doing just that.
As is the case with many of my musical interests, my introduction to MCC in the early 90s was courtesy of my brother Jerry. He often commented that her songs are really more like poetry set to music and I was immediately captivated by her soulfulness which comes through equally well in her soft ballads as her raucus anthems, a versatility that showed fine form at the Calvin.
The introduction to MCC came during my days in Washington, and I began to listen to her almost exclusively, buying each album as soon as it came out. I remember one night at a bar playing a song of hers on the jukebox -- my roommates and girlfriend (Jen) were incredulous given that I listened to her nonstop at home. I darn near wore out "Come On Come On" and "Shooting Straight in the Dark," the first two albums I owned.
My sister Kathleen was also a fan and was concerned what would happen if she gained widespread popularity. Kathleen needn't have been worried. Though MCC won grammys and had a number of cross over country/folk/pop hits, and has maintained a dedicated following as the audience in Northampton showed, her popularity faded in the 1990s.
As her mainstream popularity waned, I stopped listening to her as often too, and I'm not exactly sure why. It certainly wasn't because she wasn't as "popular" -- I suppose my musical tastes changed.
I could also blame Jerry. I've never been one to have a constant soundtrack to my life. Though I enjoy a wide variety of music, I don't have an ipod. I'm sort of monagamous when it comes to a primary musical interest and somewhere about ten years ago, Jerry introduced me to Alison Krauss who became my "steady" musical interest.
Though I'd strayed, I continued to buy all MCC's albums, and Jen and I went to see her in July 2001 at the Fillmore Theater in Denver on her "Time Sex Love" tour. I just didn't listen to the newer albums (or the older ones) nearly as often.
I think there's another reason that I stopped listening to her as much. Her music, especially her older works, was a connection to a distinct time in my life. It provided instant passage to my DC days, working in the Senate, partying with the DC crew, planning for grad school and life after, my courtship with Jen and the loss of my Mom, all rolled into one. I actually sent MCC the only fan letter I've ever written, about how her music helped me through the time of my Mom's illness and in the months after she died. I found then, as I do now, that although some of her songs are filled with sadness and regret, there's an underlying resilience that brought me strength.
Though it was filled with its share of heartache, my time in DC was special. As I moved on to get my MBA in Chapel Hill and then to Denver, I missed DC and its top of the world feeling, even though I knew I needed separation from it. Alison Krauss and her sweet bluegrass harmonies were a convenient way to move on.
Many of these thoughts were swirling in my head as I basked in the music that night, and I wish I'd gotten around to writing some of them down sooner. I'm concerned some of the profound insights have dulled with the passage of the last few weeks, though I've kept many of them going as I've made my way CD by CD through the MCC music library.
I sat next to a builder from Shutesbury, a nice guy named Tom who's neighbor was in the band. The warm up act was a very young artist named Cara Salimando with a smokey voice. Her songs were sweet, and I'm sure her music will gain new depth once she's been seasoned by life a bit more. MCC looked good and though her voice was maybe not quite as strong on the higher notes as I remember, it has even more depth and richness that infuses the words with the particular emotion of each song. I can't do any better describing the scene or the music than Kevin O'Hare of the Republican did in his review. http://www.masslive.com/entertainment/index.ssf/2010/06/mary_chapin_carpenters_comebac.html
Going to the concert was like finally putting aside the time to catch up with a dear friend. One of those things you never get around to, but can be so rewarding when you do.
Right after my time in DC, it felt a little tender to revisit MCC's music, but it felt right that night at the Calvin. Once I got over the initial shock of how long ago that was, and how much had happened in the intervening years, both feelings brought satisfaction instead of angst. It was satisfying to look back and at those days and the good run since. I got the sense MCC might have been thinking the same thing on stage that night.
Sitting in the sixth row of the Calvin Theater in Northampton on June 25th, I was almost brought to tears early in Mary Chapin Carpenter's first set. It was a mixture of emotions as MCC was returning to tour with a new album, "The Age of Miracles" after suffering a pulmonary embolism three years ago just before she was about to go on tour for her last album.
After she'd played a couple of songs from her new album and brought out a few of the old favorites, it struck me of what a body of work she has compiled. The first few bars of each song were always familiar, but I usually didn't recognize the tune right away because I know so many of her songs -- at least a half dozen albums' worth. As the set continued I kept thinking that I couldn't wait to pull out every one of her albums and listen to each one. In the weeks since the concert I've been doing just that.
As is the case with many of my musical interests, my introduction to MCC in the early 90s was courtesy of my brother Jerry. He often commented that her songs are really more like poetry set to music and I was immediately captivated by her soulfulness which comes through equally well in her soft ballads as her raucus anthems, a versatility that showed fine form at the Calvin.
The introduction to MCC came during my days in Washington, and I began to listen to her almost exclusively, buying each album as soon as it came out. I remember one night at a bar playing a song of hers on the jukebox -- my roommates and girlfriend (Jen) were incredulous given that I listened to her nonstop at home. I darn near wore out "Come On Come On" and "Shooting Straight in the Dark," the first two albums I owned.
My sister Kathleen was also a fan and was concerned what would happen if she gained widespread popularity. Kathleen needn't have been worried. Though MCC won grammys and had a number of cross over country/folk/pop hits, and has maintained a dedicated following as the audience in Northampton showed, her popularity faded in the 1990s.
As her mainstream popularity waned, I stopped listening to her as often too, and I'm not exactly sure why. It certainly wasn't because she wasn't as "popular" -- I suppose my musical tastes changed.
I could also blame Jerry. I've never been one to have a constant soundtrack to my life. Though I enjoy a wide variety of music, I don't have an ipod. I'm sort of monagamous when it comes to a primary musical interest and somewhere about ten years ago, Jerry introduced me to Alison Krauss who became my "steady" musical interest.
Though I'd strayed, I continued to buy all MCC's albums, and Jen and I went to see her in July 2001 at the Fillmore Theater in Denver on her "Time Sex Love" tour. I just didn't listen to the newer albums (or the older ones) nearly as often.
I think there's another reason that I stopped listening to her as much. Her music, especially her older works, was a connection to a distinct time in my life. It provided instant passage to my DC days, working in the Senate, partying with the DC crew, planning for grad school and life after, my courtship with Jen and the loss of my Mom, all rolled into one. I actually sent MCC the only fan letter I've ever written, about how her music helped me through the time of my Mom's illness and in the months after she died. I found then, as I do now, that although some of her songs are filled with sadness and regret, there's an underlying resilience that brought me strength.
Though it was filled with its share of heartache, my time in DC was special. As I moved on to get my MBA in Chapel Hill and then to Denver, I missed DC and its top of the world feeling, even though I knew I needed separation from it. Alison Krauss and her sweet bluegrass harmonies were a convenient way to move on.
Many of these thoughts were swirling in my head as I basked in the music that night, and I wish I'd gotten around to writing some of them down sooner. I'm concerned some of the profound insights have dulled with the passage of the last few weeks, though I've kept many of them going as I've made my way CD by CD through the MCC music library.
I sat next to a builder from Shutesbury, a nice guy named Tom who's neighbor was in the band. The warm up act was a very young artist named Cara Salimando with a smokey voice. Her songs were sweet, and I'm sure her music will gain new depth once she's been seasoned by life a bit more. MCC looked good and though her voice was maybe not quite as strong on the higher notes as I remember, it has even more depth and richness that infuses the words with the particular emotion of each song. I can't do any better describing the scene or the music than Kevin O'Hare of the Republican did in his review. http://www.masslive.com/entertainment/index.ssf/2010/06/mary_chapin_carpenters_comebac.html
Going to the concert was like finally putting aside the time to catch up with a dear friend. One of those things you never get around to, but can be so rewarding when you do.
Right after my time in DC, it felt a little tender to revisit MCC's music, but it felt right that night at the Calvin. Once I got over the initial shock of how long ago that was, and how much had happened in the intervening years, both feelings brought satisfaction instead of angst. It was satisfying to look back and at those days and the good run since. I got the sense MCC might have been thinking the same thing on stage that night.
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