The Sojourn of a Course Formerly Known As
It was the spring of 64 when I discovered the game of golf. Up until then, being totally focused on other types of round balls, I am not even sure I knew anything about the game except our school had a golf team. That same spring, 600 miles away, a course opened that in time would become ingrained in my golf DNA.
Park Mammoth Golf Course was part of a Best Western resort that included tennis courts, putt-putt course, horseback riding, private cave, and a miniature train that would take you “to and from” the lodge to various points around the complex including the golf course. Imagine a collage of Norman Rockwell scene in real life; that was Park Mammoth.
It was not until the late summer of 1970 that I first saw the course. I still remember how amazed I was to discover this jewel of a public track. Perhaps by design, it was a welcoming and fair test of golf; playing to a par 70, the routing offers an interesting mixed of short birdie holes, as well as, challenging ones that par was a good score and a couple, if out of position, anything less than a bogey was a small miracle.
At the same time, I had started taking lessons from L B Floyd, PGA Tour pro Raymond’s father, and was in the process of retooling my game from “just hitting a ball to playing target golf”. And, found that this track was a perfect place for honing my new swing; wide forgiving fairways combined the small greens. Hence began my 50 year sojourns trying to beat “old man Par” at Park Mammoth.
During the early 70s, a pattern started to developed. On most trips to visit my mother, we would have a late lunch at the resort, then play nine or 18 if there was time. Early on, I discovered that most weekdays the course would be vacant, therefore, an ideal place to work on parts of my game; providing the opportunity to practice different types of shots from the same location around the course without being concern about impacting other golfers’ play.
By the mid seventies, Park Mammoth was a frequent destination. It became the place I would go to test the performance of new equipment, drivers and / or irons yardages against current “what’s in the bag”. Unlike today’s technology, to benchmark yardages, at that time, if serious about your club’s distances, you walked it off. And, again, this was a perfect place for dropping sleeves of balls, and comparing 5s, 7s, or 9s.
During the seventies and eighties, the sojourns continued, average playing 10 to 12 times per year while never living within 100 miles of the course. In a strange way, over the years, it evolved into being my home course, even though I had membership to other clubs where I was living at the time. Then, sometime in the mid nineties, life changed; the game lost its luster, I had reached “burnout” and the clubs went to the attic.
And, there they stayed gathering dust, until one day over the 2013 Christmas holidays, my grandson saw a picture of me “back in the day” working a demo day. So, during a followup Q&A on the backstory of that photo, we started talking about playing golf and planning what would become a day trip to Park Mammoth. Hence, on my birthday in 2014, I played my first round of golf in over 15 years.
It was like reconnecting with an old friend, on the surface we were still the same, however, the years were starting to show. During the rest of that year, we made numerous trips to what was now called Cave Valley; so many, that the people at a local diner, Miss Betty’s, which we would always include in our golf outing, though we lived nearby. All was well!
It’s amazing how sometimes no matter how long you have been away, once reconnected, the pattern resurfaces. Hard to break old habits, I guess. Starting in 2014, an annual golf sojourn to Central Kentucky became the norm. And, always included a round or two at the course. Initially, filled with memories of what once was, it was nice to be back in the old routine. However, on closer evaluation, it was clear things were changing. And, not for the better, gone was the Norman Rockwell collage, replaced with scenes of neglect dictated by the whims of Mother Nature.
A new ownership, with emphasis on a business model targeting gun enthusiast, seemed to be speeding up the course’s demised. Over the course of a couple of years, 2018 & 19, every trip back brought up the same conversation, “how much longer?” What once had been a hidden jewel, now it was apparent it was just a matter of time until it closed.
Prior to 2020 and Covid-19, volumes had been written about the growing trend of golf course closures. So, I can not say I was surprised in early October of 2019 when I saw the notice that Cave Valley Golf Course was on the auction block. It’s amazing to think someone actually believed golfers would want to play a course surrounded by gun ranges. Ever tried teeing off or making a five foot putt for par with an AK-47 going off behind you? Definitely, not the best golf environment, especially, if it reminds you of another place and time. Hello Vietnam!
So, a week or so later, I went back to play my final round at the course and say goodbye, not to Cave Valley, but to my old friend, Park Mammoth. Afterwards, stopping by Miss Betty’s one last time, when asked, rumors were plenty of what will happen to “the old resort”. Perhaps, the most fitting fate was the land would become a field of clovers and all the wildlife would then return. So many years, so many rounds, so many memories, it was a long, quiet drive back to Nashville.
Then, the golf gods smiled! In December of last year, about seven years after my grandson and my initial conversation about Park Mammoth, it was announced that Chandler Property Management were the successful bidders and planned to upgrade the golf course. And, again, all is well with my old friend. The journey continues!
Until the next time,
Hit’em Pretty
