Dad and I start at number six, a dogleg-right par four of 402 yards per the card, which isn't even half the story. Our drives just make the turn. What is more, snarling rough and copious bunkers guard the green like gargoyles and hounds of hell. Stephen King would feel right at home. Twelve of the fourteen non-par threes are doglegged.
Traps surround almost every green, which run roller-coaster fast and twisty.
The course is great for good players on their game and a beast for everyone else. Struggle, as I do, and the white pines begin to resemble skeletons, and the many rocks, headstones. Sadly, a visit to the most sublime expression of Maine golf coincides with a dreary, rainy day. Between the view and the muscularity of the broad, rolling terrain, the downhill dogleg par-four first exudes enormity, yet instead of making you feel small, it makes you feel a part of something bigger. That sensation, for me, brought Ireland's Ballybunion to mind, and perhaps it's no surprise then that Belgrade Lakes's architect was Clive Clark, the legendary Brit.