There is no reason to blog this course.

(There really isn't but, as a Jag, I know I need to do unnecessary things.)

Freedom Park is a popular name for disc golf courses, as you can imagine.

Las Vegas!

No, Valdosta, Georgia.


No, this one is in Canton, Michigan, a terrible little town of strip malls and apartment rows. Why was I playing there? Desperation. Why else would I play a 9 hole course? Excuse me, 8 holes. Someone stole hole 9. I planted a small tree in the torn pin so I could throw at something.

Doesn't that look fun?

Hole one? Who knows where. No one helps. No one cares. There are no signs. You wander around past teenagers making out on the dented hoods of Chevy Cavaliers, family reunions, roaming packs of dogs, etc. Oh, there it is. And this: a friendly reminder of the rules, but someone tagged it with UR MOM! is MEXICAN

Hole one says it is 275 feet. It is maybe 250. Hole 2 has a flooded unusable tee pad. Hole 3 is a long hyzer around a blind hedge row near a playground, kids, people walking dogs. Smart design there.

Basket is tucked waaayyy left, over there by those people.

Hole 4 I ignored the fairway and threw a massive cut-the-corner hyzer and parked it. The designers of the course probably didn't have the imagination to see that any decent D golfer would just ignore their fairway.


Hole 5, 6, 7, 8 are blind shots surrounded by morasses of swamp and mosquitoes in tunnels cut through woods, good for mid-range discs, I guess. If you want to practice shaping mid-range shots you can right ahead. Knock yourself out. I shot - infinity. Great.
Yes!

Then I ate some smelt and drove to Rolling Hills.