Golf Course Architecture - Issue 61, July 2020

path, that tiny thumbprint bunker is the only place where you can miss the green and still find dry land. Then you will be left with a terrifying shot from an awkward lie, trouble staring you in the face from all directions. It’s the same trouble you successfully avoided moments earlier, but now it’s back and poised for round two. Some say this is ‘Dye-abolical’, a sadistic joke from a master architect, but I tend to believe it’s a sense of humour, not persecution, that underlies this feature. The lone tree or copse I grew up in North Carolina, where towering pines and massive oaks are fixtures on the landscape and the local courses I learned the game on. I developed an appreciation for their strategic value, aesthetic presence, and ability to spice up the golf experience. Perhaps my fond childhood memories of learning how to conjure low fades and high draws to escape the grasp of greedy branches is an influential factor here. While it wasn’t fun hitting an errant shot into the trees, it was thrilling escaping from them. Yes, an abundance of trees can make fairways too narrow. Yes, turf conditions can suffer from excessive tree cover. And yes, trees have a life span that can impact their role on a hole. All of that fails to see the point. There is something majestic about a large lone tree, or copse, claiming territory in an open landscape. Such a feature can be powerful visually and even more impressive when there is strategic significance tied to its inclusion on a golf hole. Think of the iconic eighteenth at Pebble Beach and sixteenth at Harbour Town, or the copse of trees beyond the eleventh at Kingsbarns that acts as a soft curtain, stopping the eye in the middle ground, keeping it from wandering too far before the second act is revealed. I loathed the par-five eleventh at Sawgrass, and its lone tree, after my first round there as a 21-year-old. It took years of playing and watching frustrated companions grapple with this simple riddle before I finally discovered its brilliance. Now I’m enamoured. Pete Dye cleverly used an oak on the right second landing area to complicate what appears to be a straightforward lay-up. Contour plays a supporting role, too, by creating a tricky, slightly downhill pitch shot over water that bisects the right lay- up from the left lay-up area, thus creating a choice between two equally awkward shots for those opting not to go for the green in two. Our original design of the Old Photo: Getty images/Chris Condon The oak tree in the second landing area on the par-five eleventh at TPC Sawgrass adds complexity to what would otherwise be a straightforward lay-up “There is something majestic about a large lone tree, or copse, claiming territory in an open landscape” 46