Of all of the courses played on this jaunt through Scotland, Cruden Bay is one that really sticks out as one that hit me right in the feels. It represents so much about both the history of the game, and the current state of the game, and yet it’s still a blast to play. Just a 30 minute drive from the nearby hub of Aberdeen, not only should your visit to this area most definitely include this course, it should be based around it.


Cruden Bay has never been starving for visitors, but the recent development of Trump International Golf Links down the road in Aberdeen has undoubtedly given the area a boom in golf tourism. But on its own, it’s already a world class golf course. The course opened for play in 1899, with the original layout being designed by Old Tom Morris and Archie Simpson. Just 27 years later, the course was redesigned by Tom Simpson and Herbert Fowler, yet still long before bulldozers became essential in course shaping. Little has changed in the last 90 years, and it is critical to the visitor experience to know this before visiting.

Blind shots in golf are typically not well received by the weekend hacker. I have to admit, before I really understood the history and the significance behind some blind shots, I could easily be lumped into this category. However, over time, I’ve grown to appreciate certain examples of them. In modern design, they’re considered a great taboo. But in the pre-bulldozer era, they were an inevitability. What makes Cruden Bay so unique is that it’s such a great celebration of the original lay of the land. The holes are built through and around some enormous dunes, and do require some shots right over them.

Those that love this game travel in search of authentic experiences and you’ll definitely get one at Cruden Bay.

(All photos in this post are the product of the very talented 

. I would strongly advise checking out his 

 for more stunning photos from around the world. Special thanks to Patrick for allowing us to use his photos for this post.)

The clubhouse sits high above the property and provides a stellar panorama of the layout, as well as a view of the dunes and the sea. In typical Scottish style, what it lacks in extravagance, it makes up for in charm.

After descending down a steep path to the first tee, you’re greeted with a rather challenging opening par four. The second hole is short but challenging, with an almost blind uphill approach to a highly elevated putting surface (see overhead shot above, with the first hole in the foreground, and the second in the background). The third is a very short par four that seems a bit forced into the property. Despite it being just about 275 yards, a driver is not recommended due to the fact that there is nearly nowhere to land it, and the green can’t be viewed from the tee. Out of bounds surrounds the left side and wraps around the back, and the tee includes a traffic light system (!) to let you know when it’s safe to hit. It’s very, very rare that we’ll recommend laying up, but we won’t get upset if you do. (Also worth noting, I might just be bitter about this hole due to the fact I went OB both times I played it.)

The 4th is where the fun starts. A great 195 yard one shotter where “short is not an option,” according to our forecaddie. This is the first introduction to the dunescape, and the first time a mid-iron is needed. It’s a great par-3, and it kicks off the most memorable stretch on the course.

The 5th hole is when Cruden Bay stops being nice, and starts being real. Mad real. A demanding par-4 that requires accuracy off the tee. The fairway is wide, but fescue left of the fairway will make a ball disappear immediately (trust me).

The upper left hand portion of the photo below shows the fifth green from the sky. If the back portion of the green looks a bit unusual, it’s for a good reason. Old photos of the original Tom Morris green were discovered, and the fifth green was extended in an effort to reclaim this historic element of the course.

The 6th is where the controversy around Cruden Bay begins. The reachable par-5 is rather generous off the tee, but the debate lies within the second shot. It’s one of the most blind shots you’ll ever hit, and you’ll need a forecaddie you can trust.

I was mentally prepared for this hole based on research I had done prior to the round, but still couldn’t quite get comfortable with the line. For us, the 555 yarder played down breeze. After a solid drive, I hit what I thought was a solid 8-iron on a good line, only to find it in the tall grass left of the hole. It was frustrating, but maybe I pulled it more than I thought I did? The quote I often hear about blind shots is, “it’s only blind the first time you see it,” but this approach is a really tough one to get comfortable over if you’ve never played the hole. Then again, if my ball found the center of the green, I might be saying how simple the blind shot is.

Personal feelings aside, these types of quirks are what makes Cruden Bay unique. How often do you get the chance to get bitten by Old Tom Morris? Embrace it. There aren’t many walks like this one, and if you’re not prepared for these types of rub of the green, it may diminish your experience. And that’s on you, not on the golf course.

This stretch of the course is so great that I don’t know which holes to detail out, and which ones to skip over. The 7th is another solid par-4 back up the hill with an especially fun approach (see the upper portion of the above photo). Some thinking is required off the tee about how close you want to get it to the dogleg, then you’ve gotta hit a solid mid-iron up the hill to the elevated surface. A strong and fair test of a hole.

The 8th is a great example of why par does not matter. At just 250 yards, it plays as either an insanely hard par-3, or too easy of a par-4. It’s a four on the card, and with a helping wind on this day, it only took a 3-iron to get home. But this hole is Cruden Bay in a nutshell. Look at how perfectly the hole sits in the dunes. Sure, in modern days, a bulldozer could have been used to lengthen the hole, or to perch it up on top of those dunes. Here, they embrace the landscape and let the hole speak for itself, without a worry as to what the card says the par is. And make no mistake, this hole is not an easy birdie. The green is severely sloped, and some pins are very inaccessible from the wrong location near the green. It’s a perfect short hole because it while it looks like an auto birdie on the card, there’s much more nuance to it than initially meets the eye.

The walk up to the 9th tee is tough, but worth it. In the above picture, you can see a path elevating from right to left. Now see that dune all the way in the upper left hand corner? That’s where you’re going.

The tee box is new, and unsurprisingly it was voted as the best view in Scotland golf. Here’s Tom Murray teeing from the highest point on the course:

From this perch, take a peek down at the pin positions on 14 and 15, because you won’t see them when you’re playing your approaches (more on this later).

The 10th continues to take you back down to sea level with a dangerous tee shot from an elevated area. The fairway is wide with plenty of bail out space left, but anything right finds the OB.

After a short par-3 back towards the clubhouse, the course continues to extend outward along the coast. Old Tom Morris cared not about making sure the 9th routed back towards the clubhouse, nor about following any traditional “out and back” routings. He cared only about using the best parts of the land for golf holes.

After the par-5 13th (which also has a blind approach), the two holes that follow are the subject of much debate. The 14th (photographed below from the 9th tee box) is a tight par-4 that plays uphill with a nearly totally blind approach.

If you look closely at the photo above, you’ll see a white stake about 40 yards short of the green. This is your aiming point for your approach, as the green sits almost comically low beneath the fairway and the 15th tee to its right. For as much as I did not care for the blind shot approach into the 6th, I 

 the approach into the 14th even more. It’s much friendlier, and the punchbowl green makes you feel like you can’t miss the green (yet I assure you that you can).

Another view of the signature 14th green:

I would show you a picture from the tee, but it would just be a picture of the side of a dune. The same dune that provides the unreal view from atop the 9th tee also guards your view of the 15th green in totality. A tee in a wooden sign displays the pin position for the day, and the forecaddie earns his modest wage on this shot alone. Without his help, there’s no way you could know where to aim.

Above: The 15th green, with the 16th green in the background.

Cruden Bay is in the mix to host the 2019 Aberdeen Asset Management Scottish Open, but 

 that they will not be playing the course as stands today. For as much as visitors criticize blind shots, professionals seem even less equipped to handle them mentally. As such, the story I’ve heard mentioned is that two par 3’s on the back (the 11th and 15th) will be skipped, and two holes from the club’s St. Olaf 9 hole course will be put into play.

Regardless, when you pay your fare and play Cruden Bay yourself, you’ll play this quirky par-3 that’s unlike anything I’ve seen aside from the 5th at Prestwick. It’s fun, embrace it!

Two nice par-4’s bring you back to the clubhouse, and the special day concludes. For myself, a double bogey on the last for a 72 left a very bitter taste in my mouth. I needed another crack at it, and a week later I found myself rerouted up the road from Aberdeen for another shot at her. What I had failed to account for was the fact that I caught it on a relatively calm day the first time around. When the wind came on round 2, it destroyed me. I was coming off 18 holes at Royal Aberdeen that morning, and was on the backend of my 15th round in nine days. I couldn’t even finish the round I was so exhausted. Cruden Bay in the right conditions is an absolute beast, but equally as fun as it is challenging.

Visiting guests to Cruden Bay have the option to play 27 holes during their visit, the club offers the challenging 2,463 yard (par 32) St. Olaf course to all guests, either before they head out as a warm up or after their challenging 18 holes while they wind down.

Of the courses I played in the Aberdeen area, Cruden Bay was no doubt my favorite, and ranks amongst my highest recommendations for your Scotland trip.

If you're looking for a place to stay in the area, look no further than our friend Ru Macdonald's place: 

 for the photos. I would strongly advise checking out his 

 for more fantastic photos from around the world.)

Cruden Bay

The very first leg of this extended jaunt around Scotland was four rounds in and around the Inverness area split between Castle Stuart, Brora, and Royal Dornoch. Much to the chagrin of the twitter “Itinerary Guy,” this meant that I had to skip Nairn and live with the fallout. You can’t play ’em all right? Well, enough Itinerary Guys weighed in to make me reconsider my route for week two, and it became clear that I couldn’t miss the chance to play this legendary gem.

I made my way back up to the Highlands from Aberdeen for my 11:30 Friday morning tee time. No, this was not the ideal route, but with a rental car, and a once in a lifetime open schedule in front of me, what’s a few more extra hours in the car?

It’s a dark, overcast day with a light drizzle, and the Moray Firth is angry this morning. The sound of the waves is deafening, and the walk to the first tee alongside the sea is one of the best I’ve seen.

Nairn was founded in 1887, and they preserve their history better than almost any course I’ve seen (more on this at the bottom). A mix of names have been involved in its development over the years, the most famous name being Old Tom Morris. It’s most recent time in the spotlight was the 1999 Walker Cup (

!), where GB&I eviscerated the Yanks in singles in route to a 15-9 victory.

Almost every course played on this trip is set right against the sea, but I continue to be astounded by the variety in styles of the courses. The first seven holes at Nairn play right along the water, and the land is very flat. This is not a knock at all. In fact, in my experience, the flatter the links course, the more interesting and intriguing the design elements are, particularly with the bunkering (with Royal Lytham and St. Annes and Royal Liverpool immediately coming to mind). From the onset, I’m in my yardage book trying to figure out which bunkers I want to take on, and which ones I want to lay back from on the very first tee.

On the second, a 463 yard par-4, a ditch comes in at 285 that defines the hole. I try to lay off a driver, only to catch one flush and end up in the hazard for a foolish one shot penalty. I shook my head but smiled. That tee shot was a test, and though I executed the shot I was trying to with near perfection, and I failed the test. I was too greedy, and Nairn made me pay. Tip of the cap.

With the winds down, the course could not be more gettable. After getting battered by wind for over a week, it’s a welcome change of pace. While I don’t want to say that the back nine underwhelmed, the front nine along the sea is surely the highlight. The third hole doglegs left slightly away from the sea, allowing just enough room to jam a par three in that goes back the other way towards the water. Then, from the back tee on the 5th, you actually have to play directly over the 4th green with your tee shot. No modern course would ever be designed this way, but these small nuances serve as a great reminder of the origins of the game, and how courses were designed before bulldozers. The view from the 5th tee:

I was not far into the round before I shot Andy Johnson (of 

 fame) a text: “Nairn definitely makes bunkers great again.” There’s 108 of them in total, and they’re some of the best and most strategic bunkers I’ve seen in the British Isles. They also have a consistent “raised” look to them, and seemingly pop out of the landscape like gophers. This adds an appealing visual element to both your tee shots and your approaches, and makes them impossible to ignore. For example, here’s the bunker that protects the 4th green:

True hazards in every sense of the word, and to me, the most defining characteristic on the golf course. Well positioned bunkers can make or break the design of a hole, and Nairn executes this to perfection.

You continue out along the sea, move slightly inland on holes 8 and 9, then start your turn back towards the clubhouse. But before you do, you encounter the single most charming halfway house I’ve ever seen.

A converted barn with rolling fairway terrain right up to the door. I wasn’t even hungry or thirsty, but I had to get 

On the 10th green, I get invited to join up with a fivesome. To clarify, this is an 

 fivesome, and I’m now the 6th. Did I mention that Scotland is the best? Scotland is the best.

The age of the members in this group varied greatly, and the banter was flying at a pace I could not keep up with. I don’t mind playing golf by myself, but it’s not even close to the experience of playing alongside someone you enjoy conversing with. But playing with a member takes it to an entirely different level. You inevitably get a history lesson as you play alongside the insight to the types of games they play, their drinks of choice, and of course the accents. On this misty day, I got the full experience.

I get invited to join the guys in the clubhouse for lunch, where they tell me all about “The Archive Room.” The assistant pro, Sean Burgess, had messaged me prior to arriving to make sure I made time to see the room. I was starting to wonder what all of the fuss was about.

I had absolutely no idea what I was in for, and I’m not exaggerating when I say that this room changed me. Like, it is going to be a requirement that I have a room in my house in the future that at least somewhat resembles this place. I know next to nothing about the history of Nairn Golf Club, and I could have spent a week in there going through the artifacts and reading the books. There’s 100 year old meeting minutes talking about the current weaknesses of the routing, the draining, the design, etc. There’s results from literally over a century’s worth of tournaments. There’s pictures, old golf clubs and balls, couches. It was perfectly manicured, and looked like something you would see in a museum. A bottle of scotch and some glasses sat on a nearby table, and books about links golf other golf courses littered the table surrounded by the seating. There were membership booklets from 1912.

If you do make the visit to Nairn (and you most certainly should), it should be required that you request a key to the archive room.

Nairn Golf Club

If you’re looking for a course to anchor a northern Scotland trip around, Royal Dornoch is the one. While we’ve touched on a few other great places in the area (

I checked into my modest accommodations at the Dornoch Hotel (far from luxurious, but perfect for someone ballin’ on a budget) on the night prior to my scheduled 36 hole day across the street, and quickly discovered that I was essentially out of luck for dinner for the evening. Though there was still plenty of sunlight at 10:00, the town of Dornoch is a bit sleepy and mostly void of dinner options at this hour. It’s small inconveniences like that this that remind me of my location on the planet, and in a country of just 5 million people, I’m likely north of at least 90% of them. But what’s lacking in terms of infrastructure is more than made up for in Scottish charm.

Royal Dornoch is almost always ranked in (at minimum) the top three among golf courses in Scotland, and easily the highest ranked among courses that are not on the Open rota. The reality is that the town and the property itself are not capable of housing a crowd of that size. The course itself doesn’t try to pretend to be a championship test, as it tips out around 6,750 yards, but to me, this only adds to the uniqueness of the experience.

The club was founded in 1877, when Rutherford B. Hayes was the president of the United States. The U.S. was barely a hundred years old when this place opened up! It might get a bit repetitive to hear about the ancient dates of some of these clubs, but it will never cease to amaze me how long places like Dornoch have stood the test of time through wars, depressions, storms, erosion, and extreme advancements in technology. Before venturing across the pond to the British Isles, I had always imagined that these old courses would lack modern conditioning, and that that was simply part of the charm. I was surprised to find that this is rarely the case, and certainly not here. Royal Dornoch is as pure as pure gets.

Paired up with three American visitors, we’re off at 10:20 with overcast skies above. The first hole immediately puts your mind to work. At just 331 yards, and a modest 12 on the stroke index, it appears to be a breezy start. But the two bunkers on the left about 200 yards from the tee are situated perfectly. If you want to blow past them, feel free, but just know that the fairway narrows there and the deep shit is waiting for you. If you lay back with iron, you’re likely taking these two bunkers on, so you better be accurate with that one too.

While I’m not going to break down the strategic elements of each of the next 17 holes, the first one paints a perfect picture for how many decisions you’re going to have to commit to over the next four hours. It’s fantastic. And the more I pour over my yardage book some two months after playing it, the more I realize how many great holes Dornoch has that are worthy of discussion.

The second is a par three measuring 184 yards, and home to what Tom Watson calls “the hardest shot in golf.” No, it’s not the long iron off the tee into the prevailing wind. It’s the second shot. When you inevitably miss this green, you’ll see why. The surface is narrow, and sits perched well above the two bunkers that frame the front. If you’re wayward, it might take you a few back and forths across the width of the green before it finally finds the surface.

Going out towards the third hole, the course really begins to open up. After a short walk down a tight path through the gorse, you emerge onto the piece of the property that you see in all of the pictures. The 413 yard par-4 bends to the left, but of course there are four perfect little pot bunkers lining the right side of the fairway, waiting to collect anything that runs out too far. The wind helps you move the ball away from these traps, but the gorse comes in tight on the left waiting on any shot that cuts the corner too closely. The green is huge, and I kind of lost focus on the golf as I wandered around the surface imagining all of the possibilities.

The view of the third green from the fairway, with the 4th in the distance:

The fourth is another strong two shotter (like, a really strong hole, but I’m on pace for about 4,000 words so I’m sliding past it), followed by a 353 yard par 4 that really tickled my senses. It’s wide open and inviting off the tee. There’s doesn’t appear to be a reason to keep the driver holstered, so I let one rip way down the fairway. I arrive at my ball, and quickly realize they got me. Three small bunkers guard the front of the green, and the pin sits on the front. I’m way too close. This place is like a crossword puzzle, and just when you think you nailed one, you realize the word you just inked in pen doesn’t fit the answer you need for 27 down.

The sixth is another great little par-3 that seems to be clinging for dear life on the side of a hill. You then walk up a steep path to a near isolated part of the property for the 7th, a screaming 479 yard par-4 back into the teeth of the wind. From there, you get perhaps the best view of the day:

A blind tee shot on the 8th brings you back down the hill and out to the furthest point, and the walk back to the 9th tee brings you seaside for the first time.

The shadow cuts in the fairway are perfectly appealing to the lusting eye, and with the sound of the waves crashing on the beach behind you, before you’re nine holes in you already understand what everyone has been talking about. While the course is scenic, it doesn’t 

 the scenery. The golf course itself stands on its own from a design, conditioning, and fairness standpoint.

The fairways are wide in general, yet there are great benefits to playing from your approach from the proper angle. On more than one occasion, I was thankful that I was going to get a second go around later that afternoon because by the time I had reached my ball, I realized I was out of position due to the pin placement.

Holes 9-16 all run along the coastline, and after a quick stop at the charming halfway house, the back nine greets you with a gentle gem of a par three. Right to left shots are preferred on the difficult par-4 11th as well as the par-5 12th. One final par-3 at the 13th, then five straight two shotters to finish.

The course peaks at at the par-4 14th. Tom Doak calls it “one of the greatest holes in the game.” It’s 445 yards from the tips and ranks as the most difficult hole on the course. While the fairway doesn’t dogleg, a right to left shot is again preferred as the tee box sits a bit at angle left of the center cut line. There are no bunkers, but the right half of this green is protected by deep rough. Therefore, your long iron approach is perhaps better played left of the green rather than at the center, yet your instincts don’t allow you to get comfortable aiming so far away from the flag.

The 15th is another fun par-4, then the 16th takes you back up the hill towards the clubhouse. This climb is “skipped” on the front nine as you climb a hill between the 6th green and the 7th tee, but there’s no avoiding the climb on this side. It’s not the best hole out there, but two more nice par-4’s bring you back to the clubhouse for lunch.

16 tee (foreground), 15, and 14 in the distance:

I sit in the grill room with a beer, my scorecard, and my notes and just reflect on the masterpiece I just traversed. With 54 holes down in less than 24 hours, I’m still chomping at the bit to get back out there for another go at it. I make the classic mistake of visualizing a game plan for a links course and to respond to the strategic mistakes I made in the first round, only to discover that the wind had changed directions. I’m now playing a different golf course.

For some reason, afternoon/evening golf in Scotland seems to be a relatively unpopular thing. This is my favorite time of the day to play, and I zoom around solo for the first 11 or so holes before hitting a wall of singles. For some reason, no one was joining up for the walk in. Two members (Iain and Martin) stroll up behind me as I wait on the 16th tee. I’m not sure if it’s against custom to ask members to play with me, but I do, and they’re appreciative.

The banter between Iain and Martin was fascinating to watch. To this point, the only thing missing from my day was this local flavor, and though we only joined up for three holes, the Scottish welcome came pouring out. They argued about their match, laughed, and though they see it plenty, marveled at the ridiculous evening we were blessed with.

The wind picks up big time down the finishing stretch, and when I make a comment on it, Iain replies: “You don’t think this is strong do you?”

The members invited me inside for a beer, which quickly turned into four. We talked about the area, golf courses, life, and anything else that came up over the course of the hour and a half. For some reason, Scottish and English golf clubs can get a reputation as being stuffy, and while there are certainly elements of that in some places, I find that reputation to be mostly inaccurate. It’s actually the complete opposite here at Royal Dornoch, where I felt welcome as a guest by the club at the start of the day, and even more welcome as a guest by two members at the end of it. 

 is Scotland, and these 19th hole experiences are more memorable than any shot you play.

I got on the grounds at 9:30 AM. It’s now 9:30 PM and I’m leaving. I’m far from an expert on golf architecture, but I do know golf experiences. From a golf course perspective, it does not get any better than Royal Dornoch. And from a golf experience standpoint, Royal Dornoch shoots straight up near the top of places that I would want to play every single day.

I can’t picture a better place to spend a day of golf.

Royal Dornoch

I try the best I can in these posts to limit the personal stories, and try to maintain the theme of providing information that helps you plan your golf trip, rather than bore you with inane details from what is ultimately an insignificant round of golf. But for this writeup on Brora, that’s not going to be possible, because what unfolded on the evening of June 20, 2017 was one of the wildest and most unlikely four hour stretches I’ll ever experience on a golf course. But let’s start with the golf course.

I met up with two members of the club, Campbell Ross and Calum Stewart, around 6 PM on the longest day of the year. The night was 

. Coming off two hours of sleep, four+ hours of driving, and 18 holes at Castle Stuart previously that afternoon, I was feeding off the energy of the sunshine and the rave reviews this course has received.

Brora is about as far north as people are reasonably willing to venture to play golf in Scotland. It’s not a championship level golf course, but that’s hardly a pre-req to being an enjoyable walk. I had heard stories of how sheep and cows roam freely through the grounds, and I just had to see it for myself. Sure enough, tiny electric fences surround the green complexes to keep the sheep off of them. But this is only one small element of the charm that is Brora Golf Club.


The club opened in 1891 (originally nine holes) and was lengthened to 18 holes around 1900. Five time Open champion James Braid redesigned the course in 1924, and the course remains mostly unchanged from that era.

The sea breeze was cool, and noticeably cooler than the 70 degrees I had at Castle Stuart just two hours earlier. It’s old school in the sense that, the tees seem to be in their original places (the course tips out at 6,100 yards), and they’ve not ruined the course with desperate attempts to keep up with the rapid advancements of technology. While it may seem like the game has overgrown the course’s shortish par fours, if you’re expectations are managed coming into it, you’ll enjoy this aspect. And for 35 pounds for a twilight round (after 5 PM), you can’t beat the price point.

The sheep are hilarious. They are everywhere, and it honestly never stopped being funny when one would let out a gigantic “BAHHHHHHHH” seemingly right as we were about to hit a shot. The locals kind of laugh at the Americans overly keen interest in the sheep, but I’ve played golf in a lot of places and I’ve never seen anything like this. And it’s etched in my memory of this place.

I was expecting the turf and terrain to be a lot more raw. The conditioning was beautiful, and while the greens were on the slower side, they were lush and well maintained. Tom Watson paid a visit here in July:

Brora is not going to be at the top of a lot of people’s bucket lists. Top 100 seekers aren’t likely to venture this far north, but to me, this only adds to the mystique of this place. Gone are the busloads of American tourists at the Open rota courses, and the only guests that make it up here are the hardcore ones. To me, it’s absolutely vital to fill your golf trips with journeys to places like Brora. The opportunity to play with locals no doubt enhanced the experience (more on that in a bit here), and the pride the members take in their club always fascinates me, and you inevitably end up getting a history lesson along with a pleasant walk.

I’m separating this section out because it has very little to do with Brora the course, and more to do with my experience, which remains one of the weirdest and wildest golf experiences I’ve ever had.

Shortly before arriving on the grounds, I hear word through the grapevine that Bones and Phil were divorcing, and that the announcement was going to come later that evening. It was a shock, and it honestly rattled me a bit. There was nothing going on that would lead me to think this was a possibility, and my mind was racing trying to figure out what was going on. I wasn’t allowed to share the news publicly, which wasn’t that big of a deal at the time.

Aside from taking pictures, I try to keep my phone in my pocket as much as physically possible during a special round of golf. I manage to make it about four holes in before checking, only to see that I had a missed call from Bones. I was beyond confused. I call him back and act like I don’t know anything. He sounds totally normal, and just asks for my email address.

I spent the next hour refreshing my email every chance that I got, knowing what was coming. I was close to just giving up on it ever coming. Finally the statement comes in, and I get it out to twitter as fast as I can, and just watched golf twitter melt down. I remember us all holing out on one hole, and remaining on the green each on our phones just watching the overwhelming reaction to the news.

At this point, I’m apologetic to Calum and Campbell for being on the phone the entire round, now that I’ve decided to call this my job, this is the reality, and they’re more than understanding.

Trying to calm down, we’re all still talking about the Bones thing. I’m not doing a good job of soaking up this experience and I know it. Nearing the end of a 36 hole day on no sleep, and my mind racing on the divorce, and my focus just isn’t really there.

“You can probably have a go at it,” says Calum as we approach the tee on the 334 yard par-4. Legitimately two holes earlier, I told the group “You guys have no clue how many strokes this twitter account has cost me” as I reached for the driver on a somewhat drivable par-4. I’m bound by duty to reach for the driver whenever reaching the green is even a remote possibility.

Fighting the hooks all day, I let loose and one and finally flushed one. It had just enough draw spin to hold up against the down and off the left wind. The ball disappears into the distance, as the green is a bit blind.

“That’s probably just short,” Calum says.

In my head, I’m thinking, “man, that’s not short of ANYTHING.” This ball was crushed.

I don’t think much of the fact that I couldn’t see my ball as we walked up. We looked short of the green, nothing there. Looked slightly right of it, nothing there. Nothing in the bunker. It’s clearly not on the grass, so we start perusing around the heather that frames the green. Could it have gone long!? A casual search begins over the green. I’m a million over par and hardly playing super official golf at this point, so I’m close to just dropping one.

Maybe 30 seconds more of searching. I’m resigned. Calum walks by the hole just to have a peek. A semi-shocked look comes over his face as he utters:

Ahhhh the old “hole in one trick” on the foreign guest. Not gonna fall for that one. I laughed it off and tried to draw the joke out of him before the demoralizing self gander into the cup, only to find out I was pranked. This show went on for a good 20-30 seconds. He was steadfast. His hands were on his head. “I’m not joking you, the ball is in the hole.”

“If I come over there, and my ball is not in the hole, I’m going to actually punch you in the face. You do realize that right?”

This is beginning to become a reality for me, but his excitement level still does not match what I would expect for apar four ace. I don’t even remember actually walking up to the hole. But I remember looking in the cup, and the legitimate state of shock that I entered. There it was, aCallaway Chrome Soft-X. And fittingly, a number one. My jaw dropped.

I’m yelling at him like he’s Jack Nicholson and I’m Tom Cruise, just waiting for him to fess up to the truth.

We do an awkward white guy high five, and suddenly all of Tiger and Stevie’s failed celebrations make sense. I’m not running around and screaming mostly because I’m actually in a state of shock. I’ve never had an ace before! And it comes on a par 4!? On a perfect night in northern Scotland!?

I made a few frantic phone calls to my Dad, my best friend Frank, and to Tron. I don’t have a single clue as to what happened the rest of that round, other than the fact that Calum shot like 66. I played so unbelievably bad that I didn’t even break 80 on a par 70 WITH AN ACE ON A PAR FOUR. I didn’t even have a birdie on the card.

By the time we had finished, word had gotten back to the clubhouse about the ace, and they were awesome enough to present me with a framed photo from the course. I went inside, nervous about the bar tab, only to find that the clubhouse was nearly empty. I offered a round to everyone there, but it was so sparse that my final tab only ended up being 15 pounds.

I drove the thirty minutes back to my hotel in Dornoch, music on full blast to try to stay awake. It’s 10:30 and it’s still light out, and the greatest golf trip ever could not be off to a better start.

Brora Golf Club

Back in Scotland, but this time I’m headed north through the highlands. The first round on this trip is at Castle Stuart. This course is hardly a secret, but came highly recommended to me by 

, and the guy who is quickly becoming the resident social media expert on all things related to Scottish golf. It was not hard to see why the recommendation came so strongly. (For more details on this experience in podcast form, 

check out this episode I recorded with Ru

 shortly after the round. It also includes several other courses in the area).

The variety of courses you encounter across Scotland continues to amaze me. Sometimes you can drown yourself in course research leading into a trip, and while this certainly has its benefits, it can also ruin a bit of the element of surprise. My research on Castle Stuart was intentionally minimal, and though I had seen it on television at the Scottish Open, upon arrival I was surprised at its modern nature. The initial vibe I got was very similar to the one at Kingsbarns, and I would soon find out that Mark Parsinen, the co-designer of Castle Stuart, was also integral in the development of the slightly older Kingsbarns in Fife.

The clubhouse is fantastic, and huge by UK standards. In the picture above, you can see the intentional design to give the desired 180 degree views of the putting green, the golf course, and of course the view of Moray Firth. It’s three stories with speedy wifi, and built to accommodate the American tourist. This place was designed with a specific vision, and it is executed to perfection.

Castle Stuart is not the easiest course in the world to get to from the states. Most flights for the trip you organize are going to bring you into Edinburgh, and from there it’s an (easy) three hour drive. What makes Castle Stuart such an easy sell is the fact there there are a bevy of world class courses in the area all within a short drive of each other. Royal Dornoch (post to come), Brora, and Nairn are all within earshot, and makes the trip that much more worthwhile. But more on this later.

If you’re not obligated to fly into Edinburgh, Castle Stuart could not be more conveniently located to the Inverness airport. The course even has a a shuttle for the four minute haul (1.9 miles) from the airport, and both British Airways and KLM have added flights to Inverness in recent years. If the logistics of planning a Scotland golf trip intimidate you, these guys are here to help you out.

Blessed with a 70 degree sunny day, I make my way to the first tee to try to figure out whether this is all real. On two hours of sleep and following the three hour drive from Edinburgh, my energy is driven entirely by the setting. In my experience, Scotland’s rep for horrible weather is drastically overblown, but I’m well aware that days like this are a rarity. Shorts and short sleeves, and an almost empty golf course. Let’s roll.

The first three holes play along the Moray Firth (holes two and three pictures above), and they ease you in quite nicely. Although the course is designed as a championship course and has hosted the Scottish Open four times already, it’s extremely playable for the amateur players. The fairways are wide, the green complexes are friendly, and with the wind down on this day, it’s very gettable. The par-5 2nd can be easily reached, and the drivable 3rd is another welcome birdie opportunity (and the site of this ridiculous Phil flop that they’re still talking about there):

The 4th is a par-3 that comes back the other way, and you see the glorious Castle Stuart itself in the background. After barely being able to make contact with the ball for the first two holes, I’m starting to stripe it, aided by the fact that I can fly around at my own pace. But I’m in no hurry. I take some time with the drone to capture the scenes and to make sure I’m not done with this walk in two hours.

The 7th is a wonderful and challenging dogleg left par four, followed by the punchbowl par-3 8th. Both of these holes fit the eye just perfectly, and separate themselves out from the other holes on the front in terms of difficulty and shot values.

Getting cocky as I play the 9th, I take on a flag I have no business shooting at. Although it was a foot from perfection, the ball takes the slope short of the pin, and comes back 30 yards down a hill. The course is utterly friendly, but that doesn’t mean your mistakes don’t get punished.

I make the turn and play through a nice couple on the 10th. We’re back along the firth now, and after a scrambling par at the 10th, I step up to the stunning par-3 11th. Hitting back at the water from an elevated tee, I start to feel the breeze for the first time today. I saw off the most perfect 8-iron I’ve ever hit, and I’m not kidding you when I say I’m filled with regret that I’m playing solo and that my first hole-in-one is going to go unwitnessed. The ball hasn’t even landed yet, and I’m already thinking about how to get the nice couple’s attention so that they somehow see this ball go in. It lands a foot in front of the hole, and hits hard off the left lip. It might have even jammed between the pin and the lip. To this point in my life it was easily the closest I have ever been to an ace (more on this at a later date).

The turf here is some of the best I’ve ever hit off of on any course, much less a links course. I’ve written in the past how difficult it can be to properly compress irons off firm links fairways, and how difficult it is to elevate the ball in those conditions. But (again) similar to Kingsbarns, the grass here is inherently more playable and undoubtedly helped the stripe show. It’s an Americanized version of Scottish golf, and it’s some of the most fun golf that you can play.

The 14th is a quintessential links golf hole. It’s only 380 yards today, and playing downwind with a very wide fairway. Your instincts are screaming at you to hit a driver, as there appears to be no reason not to. However, you know you’re going to leave yourself one of those awkward 60 yard link shots were you have a bevy of options of how to play it, and none of them are comfortable. If you go long with your second, you’re done. Absolutely done. On the tee it seems like the wind was really helping you. Once you get your second shot, you realize that downwind on a shot like this is actually working against you. Then on the next hole, you’re going to have to go back into that wind. Links golf!

The 17th (above) is a long par-3 with a large fairway landing area to assist you getting back to the pin. I’ve still got it groovin’, and manage to get up and down for a par and head for the last sitting at one under on the day. The wind is going pretty good at this point, and is opposite of the prevailing wind. This means the 520 yard par-5 18th is dead down, and a busted drive leaves me 170 yards in from the right rough. A pure wedge, friendly hop, and I’m 15 feet from the pin looking at an eagle putt for a 69. In the last round I played before this trip, I hit three greens in regulation! The eagle putt slides low, and I tap in for an extremely satisfying (breakfast ball on the first) two under par 70. It is of course witness-free, so it feels a bit dirty, and I benefited greatly from the pace of playing solo.

If I hadn’t already previously arranged an evening round up the road at Brora, I wouldn’t have even stopped in the clubhouse before heading back out to the first tee. The replayability of Castle Stuart is off the charts, and though I hate ranking courses, it most certainly would be near the top of any list I would make of the top courses in Scotland.

The green fees for the course from May through September are £195 (approximately $245). However, a 36 hole ticket (

playable by the same golfer over any consecutive 7 day period) 

is £250 (approximately $315). That 36 hole rate immediately caught my eye as a great deal, and considering the replayability noted above, Castle Stuart most certainly qualifies as a course you will want to play more than once.

bookings section of the Castle Stuart website

Scotland

Categories

Season 2: Scotland

Writing

Cruden Bay

Nairn Golf Club

Royal Dornoch

Brora Golf Club

Castle Stuart