Day 3: Heather and Hill (and Heather 18 with a guy named Dave)

Tom and I on our flight in penciled in who was playing with who in the round, making sure to rotate everyone around. Looks like everyone plays with everyone three times. We’re also trying to figure out a game between the groups. Day 1 starts off with me, Paul and Pete. Tom is with the Whites on Heather. We’re playing two best balls of our group on the Heather.

First, we head to breakfast at the Lodge. Heather and Mark are already there. The Highland has a big buffet. Omelets. 

The White all "matchy matchy" (and with color)

Then to the driving range (on the ski slope).  Paul checks out the golf hover boards that you can rent to use on the Moor and the Ross. Almost wipes out in the driveway, but not bad for a first timer.

Par 5 on the Heather (they played "worst ball" on Big Break on this hole and it didn't go well).

On 18, the shoes that are staying in Michigan gave out, so they are definitely staying in Michigan. I was hoping to get four rounds of golf with them, but only 17 holes. We’ll stop by the condo for me to pick up the other pair before heading to the Country Club for lunch to play Arthur Hills.

This is the warmest it’s ever been on our trips and when we get off the Heather, the girl wiping down our clubs comments on how hot it is for me wearing all black. Would never do it in Dallas, but 81 really isn’t that bad for us!

Lunch inside instead of on the patio since it’s on the warm side.

In the afternoon it’s me, Paul and Heather and Mark, Pete and Tom. We’re playing best ball and worst ball. Arthur Hills. Arthur Hills starts off benign and then gets special when you hit the tree lined holes. We’re not playing poorly, not great. The worst ball only gets us on one hole. On #9, we run into Tom, Mark and Pete. Pete’s not feeling well and goes into the clubhouse. Paul, Heather and I join up with Tom and Mark to finish out the back nine. No one questions us playing as a five some (but, according to Mark, I matter, I don’t count). We’re all speedy.

Paul, Heather and I are still keeping tally on Best Ball, Worst Ball. We think that we’re clobbering them. And ultimately did, but called this round a void since Pete had to WD.

Our original plan in the evening was to order pizza and play the Cufflinks Par 3 up the mountain at the Lodge. It’s an amazing little Par 3 (NOT). Change of plans: order pizza and have it delivered to the condo. Run the Whites back to the Lodge to change and get their car. Run to EZmart to get beer (we call everything an EZmart (except 7-11). Hang out at the condo. I was still trying to convince people to go back and play another 9 holes or more somewhere. The more we delay, the fewer holes we can play (being on a package at Boyne includes unlimited golf).

And then a change in plans. Do all of the above, but head to the Lodge and hang out on Heather and Mark’s patio overlooking the 18^th green. Done. Off we go. To find out that they are calling the patio at the 19^th hole of Heather “their patio.” Great view and we enjoy our pizza and beer and watch players come in on 18. Most hitting multiple balls to try and carry the pond (even if they shouldn’t even bother to try). Now we want to play again and as we see carts coming in, try and figure out how to commandeer them to use for our own benefit. This will involve a cart boy (or girl). Finally, I ask him what it’d take to use the carts to play 18. Paul chimes in asking what his biggest tip of the day was. He hems and haws, but gets us carts and we load up our clubs and head to 18 (we’re told we can play 18 as long as we stay on 18).  

All of us play from the same tees. Some of us barefoot (Mark and his sandals – he’ll have to get over that on barefoot day at the Mountain). Mark comments multiple times on Tom having the whitest feet ever. Tom being a little lit, hits some great shots and says he’s playing better than ever. To be honest, I can’t remember who “won” that hole, but we’re having fun and go back to do it again – this time from the Green Tees.

This is when it gets hilarious. There was a guy sitting up near the patio where we were eating pizza, enjoying a cigar and watching people come in (and possibly watching our antics). We’re thinking that he’s probably thinking that we’re a bunch of drunk idiots. And then, there he is. In Paul’s cart. Playing golf with us. His name is Dave. He’s from Michigan, but left his family at home to spend some time up here without them. Paul has a new friend. He tees off with us and none of us know where his ball went. We think he had a go right swing. He insists that it went left. Oh well. In the cart, we hear Dave asking if Paul is married.

Mark in his sandals.

This is Dave. We miss you, Dave.

And then we decide to play one more time (or two). Dave says goodbye. One hole was enough for him. This time from the tips. All of us. Heather and I almost make it to the fairway (my objective). And then here comes the cart boy (I’m not going to include his name so he doesn’t get in trouble for our shenanigans). I think I picked up after that. Oh, the stories.  

Night, Dave.