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Ride the curve!” exclaimed the caddie as Mrs W scratched her head over her putt on the fifth hole at Somerset Hills.
An elephant might have been buried under the grass, so extreme are the mounds at the back of the green and between Mrs W and the cup was its ear.
Sure enough, she set the ball off way right and it bent around towards the pin, dropping in for a memorable par.
Caddies have their work cut out on the course, often dubbed as A.W. Tillinghast’s ‘experiment’.
We had signed up to play it as part of the 16th Annual Soft Bones Golf Classic, raising funds for research into Hypophosphatasia, a genetic metabolic disorder.
It was an excellent way to play a World Top 100 course while giving to a worthwhile charity.
It was likely the only way for us to play at Somerset Hills, given its reputation for exclusivity.
The club is hidden away in a small town in New Jersey and is much more understated than Baltusrol and Winged Foot, which we visited on previous days.
The charity had taken over the club for the day and there was a shotgun start, so we began our round on the par-three 16th.
Later in the day, I would remark how innocuous it appeared, but first up, it had more bite with a green cut beyond water and a massive bunker between a hill on the left and a steep fall-off on the right.
I should not have been rusty but I pulled a seven iron into rough and squirted the follow-up through the green and down the dell.
My unimpressive opening continued on the 17th – a short par-four with a blind drive over a grassed crater to a fairway that falls sharply down towards the hole.
The 18th is of similar length and rises towards the clubhouse. However, the tail has a prickly sting because there is a massive drop-off into sand on the left and further bunkers awaiting those who bail out on the right.
“Hit over the apple trees” was the instruction on the first hole, a long dogleg right with cunning sand traps down the left.
After driving miles right, our playing partner produced his short of the day, blasting his second into the green.
However, he soon discovered the job wasn’t done because his ball was high on the left and his putt fell at the speed of a Formula One car.
This is apt because some of the opening nine was built on a former racetrack, albeit for horses.
There was no sight of my A-game until the second (our fifth), a mesmerising par-three into a redan-style target with bunkers everywhere protecting a heavily tilted green.
I had been hitting short all day, so hammered a three-wood that sneaked inside the left-hand trap. Anyone with a longer putt would have had to cope with a giant slope off the right.
Uncharitable souls believe Tillinghast, a known prodigious drinker, might have had a few too many in designing the next few holes at Somerset Hills.
The third seems straightforward off the tee but the approach is into a green perched above three substantial bunkers.
My shot slipped down the bank in front of the green, and I gave the ball a considerable clout with my putter up the hill to four feet from the flag for a tap-in par.
That somewhat eccentric hole was a mere aperitif before the mind-bending fourth and fifth holes.
The fourth is known as Dolomites because of the mounds to its left-hand side.
However, its defence is the sheer back-to-front gradient on a green, which is so difficult that even high-quality players would find it challenging to judge.
I sent a decent shot from the right of the green, which looked as if it was going to nestle hole-side, but just as it seemed to be stopping, it turned left and gathered pace, finishing 25 feet from the pin.
There was talk on the day that a recent tournament was abandoned because the competitors found the greens impossible.
There is no doubt Somerset Hills is quirky and I usually love memorable holes but I wondered whether the fourth and the elephant green on the fifth were a stretch too far.
Things were calmer on the short par-five sixth which is a huge scoring opportunity.
I was partially blocked out by a tree on the right but still managed to engineer a three-wood to land my second shot 20 yards short of the green, comfortably nailing a par.
The par-four seventh is longer and more demanding, but it is a gorgeous hole.
A drive has plenty of space before the fairway dips over a brow and into a green with a definite linksy feel.
Several ‘games’ during our charity round included the chance to double a donation on the par-three eighth for a birdie.
This would have been very difficult given it was 210 yards over water into an ascending green. However, the balance was provided by three flags on the green.
My drive went three feet through but the downhill chip was so slippery it was impossible to hold, leaving me 20 feet away from all of the pins, unable to get a par, let alone birdie.
We were left to our own devices on the ninth a curving par-five with a fairway divided by fescue and sand. Keeping the ball on the fairway should result in a score.
At the par-four tenth, we were greeted by the longest-drive champion who, in return for a charity donation, would set us off down the middle, allowing our team to play from where his ball landed.
If we managed to hole the second shot, we could win a round at Pebble Beach!
This sounded far-fetched until he belted the ball to within 115 yards, and my nine-iron follow-up flew to the raised green, took a left-right turn, and headed towards the pin.
Our team cheered it on but it narrowly missed the cup, resting about eight feet away.
The par-four 11th is named Perfection – and demands a controlled tee shot over fescue to the side of a lake before a right turn towards a perched green above a bunker.
A beautiful crane sat in contemplation as we tackled the par-three 12th or Despair as it is known.
This was the nearest-the-pin hole, requiring a shot down the right for the ball to catch the green’s slopes and take it left towards the target. Any other approach would see balls hit the water to the front, left and rear.
Mrs W and I challenged for glory by following the assigned route but came up without cigars, only honourable pars.
Tillinghast had more fun on the 13th, a blind par-four into a green bisected by a swale with the pin between the undulations.
It is a bit like crazy golf but is much more doable that the fourth or fifth.
I finished our round in style on the 15th – the 400-yard signature hole that swings to the right from the tee.
There was then a decision on whether to lay up in front of the stream guarding the hole, but I thought, “What the hell?” and crashed a three-wood, bouncing the ball over the water.
My first putt was quick, but I joyfully achieved my par with a seven-footer, completing an unforgettable round on one of the world’s most head-spinning tracks.
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