Ok, so it wasn't quite below forty. But still the weather was shitty enough that I felt it was safe to come back.
And I was right. At tee-off the sky was gloomy, a steady wind blew and cold rain drizzled. Some might call these poor conditions; I think of them as douchebag repellants. There was a number of groups out, but they were all on the back nine trying to finish before it got too cold. Ahead of me, only open holes as far as the eye could see. As far as I am concerned an empty course in golf-able weather is the double-rainbow of recreational golf. When you happen upon it, don't ask why. Just enjoy it.
We are in the peak of ball-losing season, unfortunately. The ugly flip side of fall foliage.
Flags were blowing stiff all day.
Rain clouds appeared to threaten, but thanks to the trusty smart-phone and wunderground.com, I knew we'd be okay.
A few of the greens, like this one were free of debris. Strange. I dribbled this putt in the front door for a birdie 3.
Some interesting tracks left in this bunker, something other than the usual markings from the specimen known as Overweight Brooklyn Man.
I'm no wildlife expert but these look like wolverine tracks.
When you pop-up as many tee shots as I do, you get used to these mud balls. Pro tip: this ball is going to fly to the right of the target.
A very, very, very poor tee shot into a howling wind left me with this.
The 334-yard dogleg left 12th hole, one of the best holes in this whole dump.
God help you if you hit a ball over there.
Playing into the setting sun can be problematic. I missed a two-foot putt here.
An idyllic-looking scene, but it was getting kind of windy and raw at this point.
Think I saw maybe one or two limp flags all day.
I didn't play as well as I had hoped to (87), but at least no ball went missing today. A miniscule victory.
The home hole in the golden hour. When there's nobody here, it's is a fine little course indeed. Here's to hoping for a cold-yet-golfable winter, so I can enjoy more of it.