I took a breath, followed what I could remember from my pre-swing routine, then brought the club down to the ball. The ball flew straight and far. A total surprise. I did start with a seven iron, the most reliable club when I was in the habit of golfing during my previous life in California, but it had been years since I picked one up..
When you leave Alaska, all of a sudden the recreational opportunities become limited or at least impossible to access during a regular weekday, you pick up things like golf. Real golf, not Top Golf. Nothing against Top Golf, but to get the full experience, you need to smoke your first shot off the tee, think about putting for par, if not birdie, while you walk confidently down the fairway. You need to approach the ball with hope and maybe a little swagger. You need to have absolute confidence in your nine iron. Nice and easy, nice and easy. Get it on the green.
You need to then take too much off the swing, top the ball and have it go 11 feet, eliminating your chance for birdie. Frustrated, you need to then overcorrect and send the ball over the green and off a eucalyptus tree, taking par off the table.
Yes, to get the golf experience you need to be thinking four, and end up with an eight. You need to curse the game and love it.
I was never a good golfer, but I could undulate between bogey and double bogey golf as my buddies and I made our way around the least of the local courses. You didn’t call ahead and get a tee time at this course. You showed up, paid your money then got to hacking. Expectations were low and we still failed to meet them on some days. For every par, there was at least one slice that landed in an almond orchard, irrigation ditch or deflected off a trailer.
But we had fun. Four English teachers decompressing from a stressful day in the classroom by getting stressed out on the golf course.
As we approached the golf course in Tucson last week, I told my wife about our Wednesday ritual in the spring for at least the third time. She had never golfed, so rather than get a tee time for nine holes, I asked the clubhouse if they would just rent us clubs to use at the driving range. The guy looked at us, figured we looked harmless and allowed us to borrow the clubs for free.
I gave her a few basic pointers about lining up, staying down and not swinging like a softball player chasing a pitch in the dirt. I maneuvered a ball from the bucket and unleashed. It felt good. Not enough for me to really lament not having golf as part of my routine, but enough to make me happy that at one point, I golfed.
Abby did fine for her first time. She launched a few, topped some and plowed the grass a few inches before the ball sending a divot further than the ball.
But I did the same.
There are plenty of reasons to get out and revisit the Lower 48. Sun. Warmth. Fresh produce. A variety of restaurants, trying on clothes or shoes before buying them. Hikes with no mud. A shredded chicken burrito with enchilada sauce that is still as good as I remember it from college.
Though there are plenty of things they have there that we don’t have here, I certainly don’t feel like we’re missing out.
• Jeff Lund is a freelance writer based in Ketchikan. His book, “A Miserable Paradise: Life in Southeast Alaska,” is available in local bookstores and at Amazon.com. “I Went to the Woods” appears twice per month in the Sports & Outdoors section of the Juneau Empire.
