Every course of any character has a stretch the members talk about. Ours runs from the fifth to the seventh, along the old fence line where the mulberry trees grow, and we call it Mulberry Alley. It is the shortest stretch on the property and, hole for hole, the most demanding.
The mulberries were here before we were. They line the fence along the right of all three holes, and in high summer they drop fruit that stains the cart paths purple and draws every bird in the county. We thought about clearing them. We are glad we did not. They give the stretch its name, its shade, and its hazard — a ball into the mulberries is a ball you are not finding.
The shortest holes ask the most, because they leave you no excuse.
The Mulberry, the Fenceline, and the Hedgerow are all short par threes, none of them much past thirty yards from the back tee. That is precisely the problem. There is no length to hide behind, no good miss to fall back on. The greens are severe, the targets are small, and the trees are right there. Play the Alley in level par and you have done something. Most do not.
