So, I finally did it. Packed my clubs, pointed the car towards Cape Breton, and went to tackle Highland Links. It’s one of those courses you hear about, you know? Legendary, tough, beautiful – all that stuff. I’d been meaning to go for years, just never got around to it. Life, work, excuses, the usual.
This year, though, things were a bit different. Had a bit of a rough patch, not gonna lie. Nothing major, just one of those periods where you feel like you’re stuck in mud. My old buddy, Dave, he’s always saying, “When in doubt, go hit some golf balls.” Usually, I tell him he’s nuts, but this time, it kinda stuck. So, Cape Breton it was. Figured if I’m gonna clear my head, might as well do it somewhere stunning.
The Drive and Arrival
The drive up there, especially once you hit the Cabot Trail, man, that’s something else. I must’ve pulled over a dozen times just to stare at the ocean and the cliffs. Almost forgot I was there to golf. Almost.
Finding the course wasn’t too hard. Rolled into Ingonish, and there it was, tucked away. The clubhouse isn’t some fancy, modern monstrosity. It’s got character, feels like it’s been there forever, which I guess it has. People were friendly, not stuck up like some places I’ve been. Just a good, solid vibe. Checked in, grabbed a quick bite – a pretty decent sandwich, if I remember right – and then it was off to the first tee.
Hitting the Links
Now, let me tell you, they aren’t kidding when they say it’s a “links” course, but it’s also carved right into the highlands. So you get these wild, undulating fairways, the wind whipping around, and views that just make you stop and shake your head. My first few drives, well, let’s just say the ball didn’t always go where I intended. This course demands your attention.
I remember a few holes specifically:
- There was this one par 3, I think it was the 7th, “Killiecrankie”? Sounds about right. You’re hitting over this chasm, and the green looks tiny. Plunked one right in the middle. Felt like a million bucks for about five minutes.
- Then there was a par 5 on the back nine, winding along the water. Beautiful, but I swear that fairway tilted towards the ocean. Lost two balls there. Two! Frustrating as all heck, but you can’t even be mad because it’s so damn pretty.
The conditions were good. Not overly manicured, you know? It felt natural. The greens were tricky, lots of subtle breaks. I wasn’t exactly tearing up the course, score-wise. My short game, which is usually my saving grace, decided to take the day off. But honestly, I didn’t even care that much about the score. It was more about the experience, being out there.
I played with a couple of guys I just met on the tee, one fella from Halifax and another from somewhere in Ontario. Good company, no pressure, just enjoying the day. We talked a bit about everything and nothing. That’s the good thing about golf sometimes, you meet decent folk.
Wrapping Up the Day
By the 18th, I was tired, a little windswept, and definitely poorer by a few golf balls. But man, what a day. Walking off that last green, looking back at the mountains and the sea, it just felt… right. It’s not an easy walk, mind you. Those hills will get you. My legs were feeling it for sure.
After the round, sat on the veranda for a bit. Had a cold drink. Just soaked it all in. It’s not one of those courses you play once and forget. It sticks with you. The ruggedness, the sheer scale of the place. It’s proper golf, I tell ya.
So yeah, that was my Highland Links adventure. It wasn’t just about hitting a little white ball. It was about getting out there, seeing something amazing, and kind of resetting things a bit. Definitely worth the trip. I’d go back in a heartbeat, maybe try to keep a few more balls in play next time. Or maybe not. Who cares, right?
