Michigan Disc Deluge

The silver Subaru meet at Rolling Hills. The skies gray soap and a bit low. The Jag contingent? A bit giddy/high, as in high on about-to-play-D-golf.

Rob shows up, shakes hands, and bombs a 100+ foot putt on hole #1 for birdie. Apparently, Rob doesn't need any warm-up. Kudos, sir.

Hey Rob, is that a hammer?


Another highlight is when we are in the techy stretch. A blind shot through a tree-tunnel. I throw the trusty (ace X 2 disc) Stingray and it slither-flies, turns over the rise, then chains, chains, chains--I run after! My heart goes modem! Then I stumble and slow. It's a kick-out. Sitting there like a neon cow patty.

If you click on the pic you'll see an orange/yellow disc right of the pin. That was indeed my drive.

On we go...

Rolling Hills is, naturally, rolling hills, then techy shots, then big-ass long techy shots, then some motherfuckers! My favorite holes were probably 14 and 15. 14 was a long straight drive down a chute, then a 45 degree right turn up a hill. Andy actually has a par putt on this hole. None of us par the hole. We will take our bogeys.

Another great hole is 15, a R to L major DROPOFF, huge elevation change, amazing hole.

Wow. This hole is so steep that it has a rope assist-line thing on the L side, to hold onto as you descend the hill. Dat be wicked. The cool thing about holes 14-18 on this course is how many strokes competitors could exchange. I mean the course leaps up and fangs you on this stretch. Smart design.


Patented Andy flick on I think hole 5 or something. Basket tucked under that tree. Andy had that forehand pretty grooved.

Sean -2 Mark + 2 Rob + 7 Andy +7

Then rain. Big buckets of fat cold drops of rain. Suck-ass rain. 99 red balloons of rain. The type of rain that makes you squishy and scaly and cursing and shiver. We go get lunch. Ann arbor Noodle shop. I ate the penis of a crab, in some form of fish broth. Wasn't too bad, actually.

What in the fuck kind of place is Cass Benton?

(It's raining hard now. Steady and really fucking cold. I feel like a slug. Fuck it. We play.)

Here are some reviews of Cass:

Poorly respected by the people there to put it simply. Each tee is surrounded by a mound of cigarette butts and bottle caps. A ton of hole signs are missing.

Some people smoking the magic tobacco openly, people please smoke it before or after your game. i watched as a dog ran up and stole some guys disc.

Douchebag circus kind of covers it. From over-privileged kiddie punks to obnoxious adults to vagabond rapist-looking weirdos who seem to wander from time to time, there' s a little of everything. Also besides the human trash, there's the trash on the ground. Litter is everywhere, and vandalism rampant.

OK...

Well here's what the trails look like:

Honestly, this place scared me. We were very fortunate to play in a cold rain, since this kept most people away. The holes were shredded, tagged with paint (who tags trees?), vandalized, and giant trees had fallen all over the place. Giant Tinker Toys. Shards of glass. Smoldering piles of burnt earth (I'm not kidding). Stagnant pools of black. Powerline poles bent and knocked over, with lines on the ground. No one seemed to care about multiple power lines on the ground. I mean it looked like King Kong made a visit, drunk. What happened at this course?

However...the disc golf was actually glow.

There were open bombs:


Then long impossible-techy holes, big-ass trees, little trees, spindly trees, culverts, power lines, creeks, picnic tables in creeks, major elevation changes, party people, chutes (even a thread-the-needle hole), litter, litter, litter.

Is this techy enough for you?


Or this? There is no fairway. Where is Ander and his axe when you need him?


On hole one we let these douche bag circus kids play through (both looked like wet rats). One kid just stood talking on a cellphone on the tee. He looked dazed. I was thinking animal tranquilizer. He mumbled into the phone, "Come on out. It's just a drizzle." This was a brave lie.

They asked us to join them. We, uh, declined.

I later saw the same kid perched atop a tree. Mark almost knocked him out of the tree. I'm not joking. Then the kids vanished. I imagine many people vanish at this park. Bye.

Vastly interesting disc golf. Variety, all the shots. Oddly, it's good disc golf, just in a bizarre setting. Rain, rain, rain--cold. My skin shriveled up and my teeth actually chattered. It sucked. But it was fun. Especially for Mark.

Mark + 3 Sean + 6 Rob + 6 (yep, Rob tied me) Andy + 13

Well, the Cleveland crew bailed on us. Man. Well. Well, it was wet as fuck, I'll give them that. But come on, Jags! So they drive away, and guess what--it stops raining.

WTF?

Mark and I play another round.

Mark + 1
Sean + 6

This round Mark threw a disc sort of near (though not really) a group of two women/two men huddled over something (use your imagination) and one woman kept yelling at Mark, "You didn't say fore! You didn't say fore!"

You didn't say fore!

You didn't say fore!

Whatever. It was funny how Mark handled the situation. He just totally ignored her, like she was a chattering squirrel. And really, wasn't she?

Did I mention Mark slipped and busted his ass on a shot? Pretty cool. Usually I do that. I laughed.

It's getting all shadowy and blue. Darkness. We play on.

Clearly, Sean sucks at Cass Benton. And Mark seems to own the damn place. I mean WTF? I have noticed I lost my mind at Mississinewa when it was flooded. Now I lose my game during cold rain. Is that mental weakness? I wonder. I'd like to play well in ALL conditions. Who knows?

BTW, do you see anything funny about hole 15? Typical Cass...

Mark is laughing because that basket is as high as his waist. It's a midget basket. Note where the shaft of the pin is--buried feet into sand. Very odd.

Well. We leave. Get lost. Eat pizza. Go to sleep. Go play BLACK LOCUST!!


Wow, Black Locust. 27 wonderful, wonderful holes. 27! Damn. We pay huge fees, have to pay even more fees, drive to offices to get wrist bands, etc. OK. But I'm not complaining. This course is GaGa.


Including this early one, up a hill, over beautifully sculpted bonsai evergreens, a framed-up startle of a disc golf hole. You see these things and want to weep. (Or yelp with envy--this layout/topo made my home course look like a turd).

We keep seeing odd holes in Michigan. These courses have personality.

Yes, it is bolted into a tree stump.

Sean + 6 mark + 12

I can't explain this course. Like garden of Eden material. Just awe. Every shot needed. Every distance. Variations. R to L. L to R. BOMBS. Finesse. Up the hill, down the hill. Big serpentine turnover fairways. Narrow tech fairways. Beauty.

Wow.


Wow.

That's pretty much what I can say about Michigan D golf.

Wow.

Good to see u Cleveland jags! And good work, Mark. He beat me down at Cass.

Good to throw.

Glow.

S

Oh, postscript. On the way home we stopped for gas. Mark bought a publication made up entirely of Cass Benton local players.

I shit you not.



S