As the wind howled and a light shower passed by, we stood there freezing in our sweaters and jackets — a winter coat would have been nice. I had one nagging thought, “I came all the way here for this?” Back in the USA, I would never consider playing in these conditions, and we weren’t thrilled knowing we’d have to endure this stuff for the upcoming week.
I would have preferred to stay there whining — people who know me say there is nothing so good that I can’t find a reason to complain about it. But instead, as the sun was still high in the sky at 6:00 pm, I suggested we go play. So we grabbed two others from our group, got in a taxi, and off we went to Western Gailes.
Western Gailes — westerngailes.com
That’s when I fell in love with Scotland and it’s golf, in spite of the weather. If you love the game and you’re not a complete hacker, you’ll find there is nothing that compares to playing here. It’s humbling and exhilarating all at the same time, and while it wouldn’t be fun to get beaten up by a golf course on a regular basis, doing it once is something you won’t forget. And it’s something that you will eventually want to do again.
It’s hard to put in words what makes it so special. Maybe it’s the traditions, the challenge of playing in those conditions, the fear that grips you as you look down the fairway bordered by rough as long as your arm, or the reverence the Scots show the game. Actually, I’m not sure anyone can really capture its essence. It’s like being in war — only those who have lived through the experience can relate.
