The great golf secret
of the Berkshires was the achievement of Donald Ross at the Orchards, followed
by the unspoken tale of the course’s decline. A round of applause, then, for its
stirring comeback.
On New England woodland that creaks, slants and upwells into
drumlins and ridges, Ross was always able to see the future. He knew the flight
patterns of golf balls not yet struck and the visual riddles he could pose by
adding this and that feature to the natural landscape. Rambling through these
pines and hardwoods around the corner from Mt. Holyoke
College, to which founder
Joseph Skinner deeded the club in 1941, Ross must have realized right away how
he could set the terrain to music.
The reason for
discussing these matters now is that the Orchards has been rescued. It’s been
saved from the slow decline and atrophy it had been enduring since those folky
1960s, when responsibility for its upkeep began falling into the cracks between
the college’s grounds department and a membership that was stronger of will than
it was deep of pocket. With greens shrinking, fairways corroding and vegetation
strangling the waterways designed to keep storm water from flooding holes 1, 9,
10 and 18, new overseers had to be summoned.
Enter Arnold Palmer
Golf Management, which took over at the beginning of 2000. It is once again a
seductive pleasure to walk and play and replay in your mind during the ride
home. Its original routing and pacing are unchanged, and these assets alone make
the course a woodland wonder.
With the 3rd hole, the
course lunges out into the forest with a reachable par 5 that opens a window on
Ross’ core sense of strategy and aesthetics. From a slightly elevated tee, the
golfer playing No. 3 surveys a landing area framed at the back by a ridge-like
roll of land that extends, on a slight diagonal, the full width of the fairway.
One player out of 20
can ponder flying this ridge, but he would do so without the comfort of seeing
where his ball might land. More typical is the player who could drive long
enough to reach the upsweep of the ridge and thus have a crack at reaching this
green in two. But in doing so he would have to play that stroke blind, with the
threat of ending up in a wooded bog to the right of the elevated green or in a
stand of trees to the left.
While left is the safe
side of this fairway, it also becomes the unpredictable side, because the mound
will disperse incoming iron shots in random directions and then set up uneven
lies for ensuing pitch shots. If you’ve played modern courses that turn loose
the pyrotechnics to load their horizons with high, billowing mounds, the
sophistication of Ross’ single, bony ridge and subtle fairway mound of Orchards’
3rd hole has to impress.
One of the course’s
quirks is the odd way it makes its turn, serving up a level, slender par-3 10th
that tightly borders the concluding section of the 9th. The glory of Orchards is
its quartet of par 4s from the 12th through the 15th. This run of holes takes
place near the highest terrain of the 160-acre property and features several
shots the golfer fidgets with eagerness to have a crack at.
There is always
built-in nostalgia when a discerning golfer happens upon a vintage course in an
out-of-the-way place. When that vintage course is a rebuilt, reborn chestnut
like Orchards Golf Club, the discovery or the rediscovery is all the
richer.