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06/10/2026

THE CHALK, hole 16, par 3, 130 yards

The green sits on a narrow shelf about halfway down eight hundred feet of white chalk. Not on top of the cliff, not at the bottom of it. There is rock rising behind the flag and several hundred feet of nothing beneath it, falling to a boulder beach and the sea.

The putting surface fills the whole shelf and is mown right to the edge, where the ground just stops. No rough, no bank, nothing to take a drop from. The path in is a bare ledge cut across the face with no wall and no railing on it.

A cliff that size makes its own updraught, so a high soft one gets held up and comes down short. And 130 yards is a shot everybody hits without thinking until a thin one would fall for four seconds.

130 yards. Flighting it low or throwing it up there?

05/10/2026

THE GORSE, hole 5, par 3, 123 yards

Short and all carry. Nothing between the tee and the putting surface except a bank of gorse, heather and foxgloves, and a single bunker short left of the green. Miss it and you are not finding it.

The temptation from a tee like this is to aim at the flag because it looks close enough to be safe. It is not the yardage that gets people here, it is the wind swirling above the bank and the ball coming up two yards short.

Fat side of the green, every time. A putt from forty feet beats a drop and a wedge.

123 yards. What are you hitting?

04/10/2026

THE MAELSTROM, hole 6, par 3, 148 yards

Green on a flat slab of rock in the middle of a tidal race. Not waves, not a lake, just a whole body of sea being pushed through a gap by the tide, with smooth seams shearing past each other, boils coming up from the bottom and slow whirlpools turning with dark centres.

There is a stone causeway out to the back of it, which is the only reason you can play it. Anything that goes in is gone and nobody is wading in after it.

The hard part is not the swing, it is the judgement. A low dark green sitting against moving water is almost impossible to read the distance of, so your eyes will tell you it is closer than it is.

148 yards. Club off the number or off what you see?

03/10/2026

THE MEANDER, hole 8, par 3, 155 yards

Played from a high tee straight across a river into a canyon. The green sits on a shelf built out of stacked red rock with the water wrapping round the front and the left of it, and canyon walls a thousand feet high on both sides.

Wind in a canyon does not behave. It runs down the corridor rather than across it, so the flag can be telling you one thing and the ball doing another. The safe play is the right half where the ground runs on a bit.

Long is fine here. Short and left is wet.

155 yards. Where are you aiming?

02/10/2026

THE SINKHOLE, hole 12, par 3, 170 yards

Straight down off the rim into a pit. The whole front half of the floor is deep water, wall to wall, and the green sits on a shelf of rock on the far side with a cave mouth at the bottom right and a path running out of it.

Playing downhill this steep is the thing most people get wrong. The ball hangs, the yardage plays shorter than the book says, and everything you thought you knew about the number goes out of the window.

There is no bail out short. There is no bail out left. The only miss is long and into the rock.

170 yards. How many balls?

30/09/2026

Pulpit Fiction. Par 3, 102 yards, and you cannot see the green.

From the tee all you get is a thin strip of turf and a flag. The putting surface is sixty feet above you, sitting on a lump of rock in the middle of a waterfall, and the river splits above it and pours down both sides.

102 yards is nothing. 102 yards blind, uphill, into the spray, with water falling away on three sides and no way of walking to it if you are wrong, is a different question entirely.

Short is the pool. Long is the pool. Left and right are the pool.

30/09/2026

A hundred and twenty two yards, and the number is the least of it.

The green sits on the top tier of a rice terrace, propped up on a stone wall with the paddies stacked below it like steps. There is no front edge to run one into and no bank to catch a weak one. Short does not leave you a chip. Short leaves you in eighteen inches of standing water two levels down, and then another level below that.

It plays uphill, which everyone underclubs, and the air sits still and heavy in a valley like this so the ball goes nowhere. Take two more than the yardage says, aim at the fat middle rather than the flag, and let it finish long. Past the pin is a putt. Anything short is a walk.

The quiet is the strange part. No wind, no traffic, just water moving between the terraces somewhere below you.

29/09/2026

A hundred and fifteen yards, and the trouble is not getting there.

The green sits out on limestone pavement at the very edge of the Atlantic, and a natural crack in the bedrock runs straight through the middle of it, about a foot wide and deep enough that you will not be getting anything back out. The flag is on the far side of it. So the shot is easy and the putt might not be possible.

Land on the wrong half and you have two choices, neither of them good. Putt the long way round the end of the crack and leave yourself fifteen feet coming back, or take a wedge out on the green and chip across it. There is no third option.

Which means the only shot that matters is the one you have already hit. Take enough club to finish on the same side as the pin, and take the bunker short right over being on the correct green in one and unable to reach the hole.

28/09/2026

198 yards, over a stream, at the exact week the maples turn.

Long iron or rescue for most of us, to a green with sand front and side. The stream is not really the problem though.

The problem is the leaves. Miss this green left or right and your ball is somewhere in six inches of red leaf litter, and you will have no idea whether it is sitting up or buried until you get there.

Play it to the middle, take your four, and enjoy the walk. Or be honest, are you going straight at that flag?

27/09/2026

150 yards to a green that floats.

A timber pontoon moored out in a Norwegian fjord, one bunker, one flag, chains running down into black water. Behind it the cliff goes up eleven hundred metres.

No fringe, no rough, no recovery. You are on it or you are swimming.

Everyone flies this green, because a wall that size behind the target makes it look further away than it is.

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Grange Lane
Maidenhead
SL6 9RP

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