Askernish, South Uist, where I also lost my cool
I feel like all my golfing travels have been leading me to Askernish. Old Tom Morris travelled rather less comfortably and swiftly but still declared it ‘second to none in the various elements which go to make up a golf course’. The land is shared during the winter months with local crofters and the aim was, and is, to produce a course that is as untouched by human hand, and particularly his digger, as possible.
The course was originally established by the Lady Gordon-Cathcart and after various relapses to nature it was restored in 2006 with the help of Martin Ebert to produce 18 holes that are simply mowed from the machair grasses. Even I believe I could design 18 holes here so multifarious are the dunes and hollows and ridges but then the good designers always make it seem easy and obvious. I like to think that one way or another this follows the imprint of OTM if not in physical shape then certainly in spirit.
In part it is anonymous looking; the ground Muirfield flat with small islands of fairways amongst a sea of wild flowers and grasping grass. Being left to it’s own devices the rough takes no prisoners and consumes balls. When cutting a tight line over the dogleg imagine the rough is in fact water. The holes build up through the first three; a par 5 played from a grassy hillock, a par 3, with a tumultuous green and a dogleg par 4. But there is a real test at the fourth as you play to a raised green from a punishingly ridged fairway with severely penal run offs in all directions and a very modest neck to run the ball up to the green. The fifth is much more straightforward and brings you to the top of the ridge separating course from beach. The views are stunning and you realise how well the course is protected.
A word on the teeing grounds. They are all small, often on raised hillocks and are sheep flat rather than smooth. They fit the eye of the course rather than being runways (although curiously there was an airfield here once). The opening tee box at your local club probably has as much space as all 18 here. The bowling alley tees we are used to now are a far cry from the old style and certainly detract from the natural aesthetic that clubs should be aiming for.
The greens are not as ironed as you will be used to but neither are they unfair. You have just been pampered too long! And what is wrong with the old gimme? The greens are as large as the ground can bear and where exposed they tend to be in punchbowls with tortuous contours. On the upside there are few hidden or enigmatic lines to the hole it is all there to be seen, evaluated and conquered. Not what you are used to, perhaps, but what is good for you!
Which leads me onto temperament. I thought I had it but I found it lost on the seventh. Trying to thread the ball between the dunes right and left I wandered, with what I like to think of as an unkind bounce, into the first yard of rough. Two club lengths, drop the ball take a five iron two putts no worries. Except I didn’t. I shanked it deeper still. Used 179 seconds to locate it and proceeded to shred my equilibrium, every 179 seconds like it was the Texas Chainsaw Massacre. If anyone happens to be passing and sees a furrow like a corkscrew driven in by the Tasmanian devil would you please pick up my temperament and return it to me.
The eighth passed me by and my playing companion chose to play from the other side of the fairway and upwind of my blasphemies. I smashed it down the ninth but pulled the approach. This is a great short par 4 making the most of these dramatic contours. The green is protected by volcanically steep slopes. Here as elsewhere there is rarely more than one shot when confronted by the abyss, ‘But screw your courage to the sticking-post’ as the Scottish lady in the Scottish play put it. She would probably have said ‘the pin’ but it doesn’t fit the old pentameter. Shakespeare should have had a gimme there.
Still overheating on 10. Move on to the par 3, 11th, Barra view. 197 yards over a craterous valley, a little like the Mass hole at Waterville but with a view to die for behind the green and the added difficulty of there being no run off, only the beach behind. There is less carry required by playing to the right but that is populated by mounds and bunkers. Not your manicured St Links stuff but hairy arsed Scot mounds and hillocks. Any equilibrium being soothed by the views was being hunted down.
12 is a dogged par 5 with ball snatchers encroaching on the fairway and rabbit scrapes littering the fairway. This is how all bunkers started out and fair enough, but when even the club’s own course guide says ‘an unnerving blind second shot to the top of a dune’ you know that you need to scurry back to seven and find your temperament.
The 12th says…’to the right of the green is a vast hollow and beyond a deep dune valley; both should be avoided.’ They are not kidding and I avoided both.
The par 3, 14 is an original OTM green so not the place to show OTM your shank.
Let’s skip to 16 and OTM’s Pulpit a place where the great man is imagined overseeing the course. It is now customary for me to show him the full range of my creative shanking from almost any lie. All good for the soul. Rsoul.
The Corncrakes were shouting obscenities at their namesake hole and fortunately the girls hoved into view as we strode out to the 18th tee and the language had to be tempered, at least while they were downwind. This hole is similar to the first holes on flatter land calming you down after the giddy excitement of the previous joy ride. It was like a joy ride; best done in someone else’s car with plenty of insurance careering about as if you were on a computer game with many lives.
Would my memories have been any better if I had played a little straighter? I am not sure because I absolutely loved it and would play it again tomorrow, if it is not blowing too much. My report would have had more pride and tales of unlikely shots coming off which would not have been any better to read.
The club is a credit to the members, staff, backers and visionaries who coalesced around the vision of the noble lady, OTM and a unique stretch of golfing heaven. And I and Alzheimer’s Society are in debt to them for their generosity in allowing us to donate our green fees to the Society. Many thanks. I really need to come back and perhaps try the hickory shafts that are available for hire.
