For the long holiday weekend, Rhiannon and I headed up to North Dakota. We both had Friday off from work as well as Monday, and it seemed like a great opportunity to get away from home for a little while before summer ended. To make things even better, we also came up with the great plan to leave Thursday after work and not have to drive during the day on Friday. We seem to stay up late on weekends anyway, so how bad could driving across the empty prairie at midnight be?
First off, we left Denver on the afternoon of Barak Obama’s speech at Invesco Field. The speech was at 7:30, but they started letting people in at 1:00 in the afternoon. By the time we drove by, there were already twenty-some thousand people sitting in the stands, a good four hours before anything would happen. We felt so superior, knowing that in the time the early arrivers sat in a seat, we would drive over 400 miles and be in three states.
Fast forward to around 10 pm on the interstate in South Dakota when Rhiannon says, “Hey, isn’t that the exit we’re supposed to take?” and I respond “Yep. When did we cross the state line anyway?”
And we still had 3 hours to go.
Outside of the 60 or so deer who thought that the grass in the recently mowed ditches was superb late-night dining, the drive was uneventful, which is probably the best thing that can be said about something that ends well past the witching hour.
We rolled out of bed at a bright and early 11am on Friday morning, had a combination of breakfast and lunch, and headed out to the golf course. It had been almost a year since either of us had swung a club, so naturally, we both put our first drives of the day close to 200 yards out and in the fairway.
My next shot was a nice relaxed swing that turned into an off the heel, down the hill, into a tree, and bounce back into the middle of the fairway ordeal. Shot three from 130 out – 8 iron to three feet. I missed the putt (I didn’t know the speed of the green, right?) and put it in on the mulligan. I’m an honest player, so I marked par-asterisk on the card.
The next hole – drive into the rough, shot over a tree by the green, chip to within 5 feet, make the putt for a par. I don’t even need to practice. Golf is that easy.
Golf sucks. I took a triple-bogey six on a par three while using three mulligans and an illegal drop from a bunker that I didn’t count.
Still, it beat a day at work and justified driving during the night.