PACIFIC NORTHWEST

BY DICK STEPHENS

DG PUBLISHER

he term “bucket list” isn’t one I remember hearing much T when I was a boy. But, as I age, I find myself not only hearing about bucket lists, but thinking about them, making them and pining for every opportunity to execute them.

I looked up the origin of the expression and, at least according to Phrases.org, it’s a relatively recent phenomenon.

If you stop reading this now, at least you picked up that little nugget, right? As for bucket lists, I have been fortunate enough to make and experience a few. As a young man, I covered, watched and even played soccer in The Netherlands, England, Germany and Austria. Over the course of three separate trips, I breathed in what it was truly like to see packed Dutch First Division, Premier League and Bundesliga stadia and feel the concussion of chants and drums and crowds bang and echo off the walls of my heart. To sing and saunter out of a stadium and into the streets of Munich or Amsterdam with 50,000 people I would never see again was an experience that still stirs me in a sensual way. Shoot, one time, I got so caught up in the moment that I lost my friend Doug Andreassen, wound up in a bar full of Polish soccer fanatics and drank until dawn.

Another bucket list was to watch not one, but four of my favorite rock bands enshrined in the Rock n’ Roll Hall of Fame. To see Pearl Jam, Yes, ELO and Journey all enter the Hall on the same night with my younger brother, Spencer, in the Barclays Center in Brooklyn — and be packed like sardines with 18,000 other fanatics who, just like we, came from all over the globe for one night of harmony — was poetry, not music.

Traveling to Scotland, the birthplace of golf, with my father, to see and play and feel St. Andrews and Carnoustie was like being teleported back in time. Longtime readers of Destination Golfer have heard me speak fondly of that trip before. I’ve also had the fortune to travel to Ireland with my business partner, Kirk Tourtillotte, and play Royal County Down, The K Club, The European, Ardglass and others. Finally seeing how green and lush Ireland was for a hundred miles in every direction was divine.

By now, perhaps, you are saying,”Shut up, already! You’ve had more than your share, dude.” And, indeed, I have. I am beyond blessed. Sports and culinary lifestyle projects have presented many an avenue and I have walked miles and miles down these paths. And, during these treks, I have taken the road less traveled whenever it appears. When I am hanging over the edge is when I am most happy. I am more Jack Kerouac and Rick Steves than a paint-by-numbers kind of guy.

Gearhart Golf Links Chambers Bay

158 Miles

238 Miles

Sheep Ranch Bandon Dunes Pacific Dunes Bandon Trails Old Macdonald Bandon Preserve

788 Miles

The Sea Ranch Golf Links

931 Miles

Half Moon Bay Ocean Course

1,027 Miles

Pebble Beach Golf Links The Links At Spanish Bay DESTINATION GOLFER Spyglass Hill Golf Club anderlust is one of my favorite words. So, when COVID-19 hit, my life as I knew it crashed into W a million pieces. One by one, the tsunami swallowed pro sports, golf, restaurants, event venues, crowds and life, capsizing my little boat. For a span of time, I, too, felt like I was underwater, just like millions of other Americans, wondering if I would break the surface and be able to breathe real air again. Sound dramatic? It was for me. I was unsure, like I am still today, when and where life as I loved it was it going to return.

My little boat washed ashore, though, and it’s slowly drying out. Some of my mates paddled to safety, some made it back to the mainland, some are still recovering and some are still waiting for their next ship to come in. Me? I have my family, my friends and some lifelines, like golf and Destination Golfer, to help me through this. Like the Gloria Gaynor classic my mom pounded into me as a child of the ‘70s, “I Will Survive.”

After weeks of quarantine, masks, Zoom meetings, home schooling, wearing sweats and slippers and seeing wet spring days stretch into what was a really lovely summer of sun, I had to do something. I was going stir-crazy. My family saw it, too. I needed an elixir to take the edge off. I needed a COVID-proof bucket list that wasn’t dependent on an airplane. I needed the wind in my hair and a ribbon of highway to drive. I wanted to feel alive, to hear and see the ocean, mountains, new places and new faces, and wake up each day with more miles behind me. Miles, though, that take me to something meaningful and sustaining.

I will never be a historical figure — and I don’t wish to be. But, perhaps what I set out to do may be unique enough to stake my claim to a new adventure. It’s not a moon landing. But, it kept me afloat and it helped me to dry out. This is a story about escape, and discovery, and finding places where I could just BE.

Originally, my plan was simple — one long, hot day of July golf at Chambers Bay, where the sun doesn’t set until 9:50 p.m. I slept on it, and when I woke the next morning, I thought, What if I kept on driving and went a little further? I poured a coffee, pulled my 1997 Rand McNally

Approach to 1st green on Spanish Bay.

The funky cool on-course Clam Bed Bar at Gearhart Golf Links. Road Atlas off my shelf, sat in my robe on the back deck and skimmed all the way down the coast to Bandon Dunes, mentally adding up the 378 miles between University Place and Bandon.

Hmmmmm, I thought. All links courses. What are the other links courses I know of on the West Coast? Pebble Beach, for sure, which I’d never played. Were there others?

I kept skimming the map, looking at literally every square inch all the way down the coast, clear to San Diego. Surely, there had to be plenty of authentic coastal links courses that I had never even heard of. George Peper’s book, True Links, is THE bible on real links courses in the world. I checked it first, then hit up Wikipedia to see what newer courses may have been left out. Imagine my surprise, then, to find that the coastal links pipeline dries out in Pebble Beach. Despite more than 400 miles of coastline between Pebble and Mexico, there wasn’t a single authentic American links course south of those hallowed fairways.

It’s probably worth taking a second to define an authentic links course. According to golf purists, a links course is one built on sand, that “links” a large body of water to the land, and maintains the land’s natural qualities. I was surprised to see that, according to Peper and Wikipedia, legendary tracks like Torrey Pines, Poppy Hills and Monarch Beach weren’t on the list, while others I’d never heard of — like The Sea Ranch Golf Links — were.

I can do this, I thought. I’m gonna play ‘em all.

I took out a pen and wrote the names of each the true links courses right on my map — Chambers Bay, Gearhart Golf Links, the five courses at Bandon Dunes (Bandon Dunes, Pacific Dunes, Bandon Trails, Old Macdonald and the new Sheep Ranch), The Sea Ranch Golf Links, Half Moon Bay Ocean Course, Spyglass Hill, Spanish Bay, Pebble Beach, and the rarest of them all, Cypress Point.

My next great bucket list was on.

Chambers Bay • No. 13

know of no other publication in the world that has covered Chambers I Bay more than Destination Golfer. Chambers Bay, for me, is what a favorite rock face is to a climber. It’s familiar, challenging to master, and has hundreds of different little humps and outcroppings that make each round unique, no matter how many times you play it.

Chambers is near and dear to my heart. I was a member of the first public foursome to ever play the course. I’ve watched a friend spread his dad’s ashes there. I’ve stood on the 15th tee box with Robert Trent Jones, Jr., and learned how and why he did what he did to the hole, and why the Lone Fir is so important. I covered the U.S. Open and “It’s familiar, challenging to master, and has hundreds of different little humps and outcroppings that make each round unique, no matter how many times you play it.”

the U.S. Amateur. We’ve kicked off our Cascade Golfer Cup at Chambers nearly every year for the last decade. I have two eagles on the 557-yard eighth hole – and also two snowmen on the same hole.

I love playing it so much because it feels like an accomplishment just to physically walk it. And, without a doubt, the closing stretch of four holes are one aof greatest closing stretches in the sport.

Now, it holds a special place for a new reason. It will be forever etched in my mind as the place where, on a 90-degree Friday, my son and I teed off at 4:30 p.m. and watched the greatest twilight of sun, sea, dusk and sunset I will ever know or feel, as I launched myself on an adventure I will never forget. My son carried my bag on what might be one of the hardest loops for a caddie on the planet. He did it with grace and pride, and he even dropped a birdie putt on the par-5 first.

I took what, for me, were the most important photos and memories of the game I’ve ever had — my son carrying my bag with his whole life in front of him, Puget Sound backdropping his ever-growing frame as the sun set behind us. My dad taught me how to play and embrace the game of golf, and I hope that this day was just as memorable for my son as it was for me. The fact that he tacked the scorecard on his wall alongside other things that are important to him, made me feel about 10 feet tall.

f you asked 50 freak golfers to name the true links courses on the West I Coast, maybe 10 would be able to name Gearhart. If you asked the same 50 to name the oldest course west of the Mississippi? Good luck getting even one to come up with the correct answer.

The fact is that golfers have been playing on the dunes of this hidden jewel since 1892 – 128 years. Dude!? The place is living history. With a design that Robert Livingstone, H. Chandler Egan and Bill Robinson all lay claim to, this course has iterations of golf that define the sport. Egan is the godfather of golf architecture in the Northwest, having penciled beauties all over Oregon, like Waverley and Eastmoreland, plus many courses in Spokane. Egan also played a huge part with Alistair Mackenzie in early redesigns of Pebble Beach. All this just underscores this jewel of a track.

Besides the history, Gearhart has some super-cool funkiness woven into it. For starters, it’s built on sand, with the Pacific Ocean right across the street, and elk, deer and incredible coastal waterfowl everywhere you look.

Second, it’s the childhood home of America’s father of modern cuisine, James Beard. He spent his summers in Clatsop County and his love of fish, game meats, native greens and wild berries started right there. I’ve spent the last 10 years of my life immersed in the culture and wake of this man as a producer of the James Beard Taste America dinners and cocktail parties all throughout the west. Seeing the prairies and piers that gave Mr. Beard inspirations for the life he launched really connected a few dots.

Finally, the McMenamin’s Grand Hotel sits right above the clubhouse like a cherry atop a sundae. The themed bedrooms, Sand Trap Pub and on-course, walk-in Sand Bar make this a real destination. Their decks, patios and fire pits all touch the course, and the roller-coaster putting course makes it a place that is all golf, all fun, all the time. It’s history “... the course, and the rollercoaster putting course makes it a place that is all golf, all fun, all the time. It’s history meets beach life, and it’s cozy and affordable.”

meets beach life, and it’s cozy and affordable.

My favorite holes were the par-4 14th, with the craziest and coolest blind shot to an elevated green, and the par-5 18th, which is everything you want a home hole to be — three shots to the green, followed by infinite shots by the fire pits at the Pot Bunker Bar just a few steps away.

This place alone is a super Seattle or Portland getaway. And, the Oregon towns of Astoria and Seaside, just 10 minutes away, only add to the potential to lose yourself in this golf Nirvana. Gearhart is also the home of the U.S. Hickory Open Championship, where the best wooden-shafted golfers in the world play the best of the best. This I gotta see.

Not today, though. South on Highway 101 is more Valhalla.

And, Gearhart turned out to be the perfect bridge from the polished Pacific Northwest to the rugged Pacific Coast.

Bandon Dunes

riving, for me, is just as much a part of the journey as the golf. And, cruising down Highway D 101 with the top down on a summer morning is an adrenaline rush like no other. For the past eight years, I’ve had a little ragtop in my garage. Nothing extravagant, but trusty, fast and fun. The joy of hugging the coastline ribbon of road for the rest of the week was as exhilarating for me as the links that lie ahead.

Something magical happens as you begin to drive south from Gearhart. If you have ever driven across the huge bridge spanning from Washington to Oregon at Astoria — which is basically Seaside and Gearhart — you see how high the land rises above the rugged beach below. It’s markedly different than Washington State. Oregon’s coast is like a mini mountain range, with cliffs and gorges and massive rocks jutting out of the ocean like 100 kraken. It’s awe-inspiring and looks and feels like a Bob Ross painting.

Leaving Gearhart, you have a quick decision to make — do you drive on 101 all the way to Bandon, or do you cut across to I-5 to shave 90 minutes off this leg of the trip? Being that I had a tee time at Sheep Ranch in just under six hours, and knowing that I had a lot of U.S. 101 left in front of me, I elected to take I-5 for some of the day’s trek.

This was my fourth time at Bandon Dunes Golf Resort and none of the experiences have been the same. I’d previously played all the other tracks there, but hadn’t yet played Sheep Ranch. We featured the course, which opened earlier this year,

Old Macdonald

Pacific Dunes

this summer, with a cover story written by friend and colleague Tony Dear. Tony killed it, and outlined the place really well. Rather than rehash or undermine his fine work, I’ll just share my own unique perspective.

First off, finally getting to go through the previously locked gate into Sheep Ranch was a thrill. For many years, you had to know someone or get invited to go beyond the gate to the ranch. There was a lot of folklore and mystical aura swirling about the place for years. On my last two trips to Bandon, you could see the Sheep Ranch layout up north from Old Macdonald and from some places on Pacific Dunes. It was Bandon owner and visionary Mike Keiser’s little slice of heaven, or perhaps his own private aviary or clambake party spot. The time spanning the soft opening and actual opening seemed to take forever – but it was sooooooo worth it.

It was an honor for me to even play it in the same year of it’s official opening. Driving all day to get there, knowing I had the last tee time of the day, I listened to podcasts about the place as the wind blew through my hair. I knew it was going to be heaven on Earth.

From the resort’s central lodge hub, it’s a good 15-minute drive to Sheep Ranch. You can’t walk to it. One of the reasons why? There is NO ocean links course I know of or have played that has so many holes that touch or are a stone’s throw to the cliffs or beach. Sheep Ranch has 12 holes that touch water! Most links have one, or a small handful of holes, that are touching the actual coast. Keiser has that much land he owns and had the vision and guts to bring this to life. In this case, Bill Coore and Ben Crenshaw managed to compose a masterpiece that keeps the ocean in play nearly all the way around.

No disrespect to Bandon Trails, Bandon Preserve, Ozarks National or Cabot Cliffs (look out Nova Scotia, when the pandemic lifts, I’m heading your way) — Sheep Ranch is the duo’s magnum opus. Both men have said the same. If I hit balls all day, stretched and ate a protein lunch, or ran to the first tee and hit my first shot without a practice swing, it wouldn’t mean a bit of difference once I saw what was in front of me on hole No. 1. I played as a single and went off at 4:40 p.m., knowing the dusk and weather changes rolling in were going to be epic. When I looked down the fairway of the 549-yard par-5, I could only wonder what would happen to the ball after I hit it, because this downhill beauty appears to drop off the edge of the earth about 190 yards off the tee. It looks like the band Kansas’ “Point of No Return” LP cover, not a golf course. You can practically see the curve of the Earth. I knew I’d find the ball on the other side, but as for what else I’d find, I could only imagine.

Like all the courses at Bandon, afternoon wind is part of the experience. And, Mother Nature and the gales off the Pacific didn’t disappoint. The first hole is forgiving, and the green is right on the coast, which also plays a role in holes, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8 and 9. Yep, all of ‘em. You won’t even care what you score. The par is 34 on the outward nine, which I think is Coore/Crenshaw’s way of giving you two more chances to break 40. All you do is look, gasp and tighten your hat for two hours. I carded a 40 on the front nine, but it could have been a 36 or 56 and I wouldn’t have cared. It’s the most environmentally wrappedup round of golf I’ve played in my life.

The 10th tee offers your first non-ocean look at the land, with an elevated, undulating green that marks a clear transition between the Hemingway Old Man and the Sea part of the round, and the John Krakauer Into Thin Air part. It’s exhilarating to see how quickly the course turns on you. The back nine has some of Pacific Dunes’ characteristics, but with its own unique twists. My best attempt

Sheep Ranch

Old Macdonald

at words won’t do it justice. With the wind and clouds moving in, the temperature dropped 25 degrees on me between the time I started and the time I reached the 17th tee box. Shirtsleeves and sunscreen were replaced by three layers of clothes and wind so strong that it blew my bag over and tore my hat right off my head. I wore it backwards the rest of the round, just to be more aerodynamic.

At 326 yards from the back tee, 17 comes north up the coast and looks short, but plays longer because of the wind. I crushed a driver and a hybrid and was 15 yards short of the green. I muscled out a par and thought I had invented fire. The home hole is another course masterpiece. Coore and Crenshaw know that half of the players that play Sheep Ranch each day will have the wind at their back; if that’s you, then let that driver rip and benefit from the 50 extra yards of run you’ll receive if you can clear the dogleg and hit the fairway. I hit an 8-iron approach and putted for eagle. This hole gives all players a “fish tale” to end your round, brushes you off, shakes your hand and says to come back again soon.

Driving back to the central lodge, I had to buy a memoir and wear it as a badge of honor. McKee’s Pub is full of the best hot-air stories ever told, and a shot of Irish whiskey and a pint of Guinness salve all wounds.

Bandon is sheer magic, and where I want my ashes spread. For a golfer, it’s Disneyworld, Disneyland, Epcot Center and the pyramids all wrapped in one. Now, with Sheep Ranch, it’s officially in first place among the world’s golf resorts. By the time I pulled the car out of Bandon’s parking lot, I had knocked off another five of the West Coast’s true links courses, having previously played Bandon Dunes, Pacific Dunes, Bandon Trails, Old Macdonald and also the 13-hole Bandon Preserve.

It was time to bid Oregon goodbye and head to California to finish off this marathon run.

Bandon Trails

Bandon Dunes

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