It's...a funky little doll!! This was on a picnic table at Brown Deer disc golf course in Milwaukee and I have no idea this would be at a disc golf course. I mean, it's awesome and everything - but how did it get here? I would guess that a child was abducted and left this behind as a clue, but as far as I know, abductors avoid disc golf courses. Also, Brown Deer is too difficult for children. I imagine it fell from an airplane and landed perfectly on this table for the world of disc golf to see.
Friday, October 31, 2008
Look What We Found - Brown Deer
It's...a funky little doll!! This was on a picnic table at Brown Deer disc golf course in Milwaukee and I have no idea this would be at a disc golf course. I mean, it's awesome and everything - but how did it get here? I would guess that a child was abducted and left this behind as a clue, but as far as I know, abductors avoid disc golf courses. Also, Brown Deer is too difficult for children. I imagine it fell from an airplane and landed perfectly on this table for the world of disc golf to see.
Sunday, October 26, 2008
Sherwood Oaks - Bloomington, IN
If you’re in
The bright side of this course is that it was very clean and landscaped nicely. It also has concrete tees for each of its nine holes. Built on church-grounds, I feel like the influence of the Divine had a positive impact on my game.
I played the course with three others that were relatively new to the sport. For my friends, this was a great place to go outside and have some fun on a perfect day.
Though I did enjoy myself, there was not much in the way of creativity for course design. Most holes are wide open and have slight elevation changes. The flow of the course was relatively easy to follow, but there were few physical markers that separate holes. This sometimes made me think twice as to what basket I was throwing to.
Overall, I think it’s great that a church decided to add a disc golf course to their grounds. I think they made a good use of the land they had available, but it’s important to remember that the primary purpose for the grounds is for a church and not a disc golf course. Also, the course has
Variety: 2
Terrain: 2
Flow: 3
Cleanliness: 4
Overall: 3
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
Dretzka Park - Milwaukee, WI
Dretzka Park - what is there to say about such a place? Lots of things, that's what.Dretzka is somewhere in Milwaukee - I'm not sure where, I kinda wasn't paying attention on the drive to the park. I know where it isn't, though - it isn't near a 7-Eleven. When you're playing 27 holes of disc golf and you're about to die of Slurpeelessness, wouldn't a 7-Eleven be the best place to go to? Well don't look for one here, because guess what? You won't find one.
That aside, Dretzka is a very fun course. And as evidenced in the picture above, it is a pretty course where dudes can bring their dogs. It is also an unforgiving course that, once played, you will have nightmares about for the immediate future. This is 27 holes that will definitely leave you feeling conflicted, but ultimately, the best kind of conflicted.
Parking is certainly ample, as there are other activities nearby. Please refrain from taunting anyone you see carrying a golfbag, as they are people just like us. I have to say, some of them made me feel uncomfortable. They just had this...look, I don't know. And it was collective, all of the golfers had this look. On second thought, taunt them, but do it subtly so they don't know about it and so you don't feel bad about it.
The first tee definitely is not difficult to find, and what a pleasant surprise to see two concrete tees for each hole. It certainly adds a lot to the course - you don't often see the two concrete tees. Oh, one other thing you don't see is the 75 different basket locations for each hole. Actually, it's like three or four basket locations per hole, but it can still be a bit confusing. Thankfully, we have archaic wooden tee markers with hole information carved into them. We're also reminded not to litter (very important) and provided with fantastic sponsorship.
Thanks, Mike Cox and family! Your continued support is sincerely appreciated. At first, you might confuse the tee markers with the lyrics for Nightman, but you'll get used to it. From here, it's a matter of figuring out which basket location is in use - a bit of work, but not too hard to do.
The course itself is a ton of fun. The wooded holes are very difficult and plentiful, but thanfully, there certainly isn't any shortage in more open holes. Trees are used extremely well as obstacles, and the length isn't too much of a killer. It isn't really needed, as the course is quite challenging. Definitely a lot of variety here.Their isn't a great deal by way of elevation changes, but there's enough that would make it noticeable.
The flow isn't too bad, but some of the holes kinda run together. Going from five to six was a bit of a challenge. We almost went from five to sixteen - the gentlemen behind us with beer had a significantly harder time then us. Maybe it was the beer? Regardless, I'm not here to speculate. We didn't have too hard of a time going from hole to hole, so I was satisfied with the flow. I also didn't notice any issues with the garbage on the course. Certainly a lot of dudes out drinking, and I'm sure there were some bottles and cans here or there, but I think the "please don't litter" signs were deterrent enough.
Bottom line - this is a pretty difficult, yet, extremely fun course. The photos don't do justice to how pretty this course is...it's extremely picturesque. Lots of variety and lots of people as well - quite the busy course, which is understandable. 27 holes is more than enough to play, and you'll likely want to play another 27 when you are done. Make sure to bring plenty of hydration, maybe even a tent and sleeping bag. The course is a trek, and a fantastic one at that. Scores time!!Variety: 4
Terrain: 4
Flow: 4
Cleanliness: 5
Overall Score: 4.25
A great course - Dretzka Park is highly recommended by The Worm Burners.
Thursday, October 16, 2008
My Life in a Moment -or- Relativity as it Applies to Disc Golf
While I almost never leave the disc golf course without something to talk about, a while ago something happened in two seconds that changed my perspective on the sport as well as my perspective on life.
Turning a wooded corner, thinking of nothing but the long hyzer I had to throw to get birdie chance on hole three, I came upon something that stopped me dead in my tracks. Even though I rounded the trees at my normal brisk pace, she didn’t startle when I stepped right in front of her. She had been standing there by herself for reasons unkown, surrounded by the falling leaves of burnt orange and brown. Her long hair framed her smile, her dark eyes peacefully looking into mine as if she already knew the questions and the answers. The trees, knowing full well their obligation to such events, showered us with colored leaves.
Dear reader, I adjure you, a man does well to not forfeit much time courting somebody he knows to be so complementary to his own nature. We dated just long enough for our parents to stop saying, at least in public, that we were rushing into things. The engagement was likewise as short as we felt necessary. The church buzzed with excitement. It was just a bit too small, and a few latecomers from my family stood in the back to catch the last glimpses of our single lives. I would find out after the ceremony that when we kneeled together, the assembled crowd could read the words “love her” written in white marker on the bottom of my shoes, with an arrow pointing to my bride. Months later, while playing disc golf with my best man and a few other members of the wedding party, I found out it was actually the second thing he wrote on my black wingtips, having originally been panged by the guilt of debasing something so divinely guided. He had used acetone to remove his original words: help me.
On our honeymoon we rode on the Trans-Siberian railroad, taking a side trip into Mongolia. The clarity with which I saw the distant mountains through the front door of the yurt was enough to leave me spell-bound, standing transfixed on the horizon as the morning chill blew in off the steppe, making her unconsciously grab the comforter and roll over.
We made good habit of traveling to off-beat places. Anywhere remote or overlooked became a destination spot. Our friends joked we spent more time in our two person, 1979 North Face tent than we did in the queen-sized bed I had bought myself as a birthday present during my bachelor days. She was never more radiant than in the fall, her brown hair falling disheveled over her soft shoulders. She knew I would be staring at her every time I had the chance. Our eyes locked, but grew hesitant. Leaves skittishly let go of their branches and rushed to the ground.
Something in the woods rustled and the movement forced me to leave the gaze of the beauty my eyes had grown accustomed to for the last two seconds. As if appearing out of thin air, her boyfriend appeared out of the woods with the satisfaction of having just found a lost disc. Looking back I smiled, though a different smile, and said hi. Stepping up to the tee pad, I pulled my Rogue out of my bag, and ripped a colossal forehand drive. It flew directly into the ground, 45 feet in front of me. I looked over my shoulder for the chance to see her one more time, only to find she had been watching my throw.
“Well, looks like I killed some poor innocent worm on that one” I said, not nearly as disappointed in my drive as I was in losing my wife of two seconds. I headed down the fairway debating in my mind whether I should use a mid-range or a fairway driver for the next shot.
I bogied.
Turning a wooded corner, thinking of nothing but the long hyzer I had to throw to get birdie chance on hole three, I came upon something that stopped me dead in my tracks. Even though I rounded the trees at my normal brisk pace, she didn’t startle when I stepped right in front of her. She had been standing there by herself for reasons unkown, surrounded by the falling leaves of burnt orange and brown. Her long hair framed her smile, her dark eyes peacefully looking into mine as if she already knew the questions and the answers. The trees, knowing full well their obligation to such events, showered us with colored leaves.
Dear reader, I adjure you, a man does well to not forfeit much time courting somebody he knows to be so complementary to his own nature. We dated just long enough for our parents to stop saying, at least in public, that we were rushing into things. The engagement was likewise as short as we felt necessary. The church buzzed with excitement. It was just a bit too small, and a few latecomers from my family stood in the back to catch the last glimpses of our single lives. I would find out after the ceremony that when we kneeled together, the assembled crowd could read the words “love her” written in white marker on the bottom of my shoes, with an arrow pointing to my bride. Months later, while playing disc golf with my best man and a few other members of the wedding party, I found out it was actually the second thing he wrote on my black wingtips, having originally been panged by the guilt of debasing something so divinely guided. He had used acetone to remove his original words: help me.
On our honeymoon we rode on the Trans-Siberian railroad, taking a side trip into Mongolia. The clarity with which I saw the distant mountains through the front door of the yurt was enough to leave me spell-bound, standing transfixed on the horizon as the morning chill blew in off the steppe, making her unconsciously grab the comforter and roll over.
We made good habit of traveling to off-beat places. Anywhere remote or overlooked became a destination spot. Our friends joked we spent more time in our two person, 1979 North Face tent than we did in the queen-sized bed I had bought myself as a birthday present during my bachelor days. She was never more radiant than in the fall, her brown hair falling disheveled over her soft shoulders. She knew I would be staring at her every time I had the chance. Our eyes locked, but grew hesitant. Leaves skittishly let go of their branches and rushed to the ground.
Something in the woods rustled and the movement forced me to leave the gaze of the beauty my eyes had grown accustomed to for the last two seconds. As if appearing out of thin air, her boyfriend appeared out of the woods with the satisfaction of having just found a lost disc. Looking back I smiled, though a different smile, and said hi. Stepping up to the tee pad, I pulled my Rogue out of my bag, and ripped a colossal forehand drive. It flew directly into the ground, 45 feet in front of me. I looked over my shoulder for the chance to see her one more time, only to find she had been watching my throw.
“Well, looks like I killed some poor innocent worm on that one” I said, not nearly as disappointed in my drive as I was in losing my wife of two seconds. I headed down the fairway debating in my mind whether I should use a mid-range or a fairway driver for the next shot.
I bogied.
Friday, October 3, 2008
Mission Statement
Worm Burners is a disc golf blog for the masses. We are not here to make you better at disc golf or to provide you with the skills to be great at disc golf: we admittedly lack those skills ourselves. Rather, we three dudes are here to promote the playing of disc golf by all. Disc golf is quite possibly the greatest use of free space and plastic that one could ever create, and it's our goal to help you to understand it.
Where to begin? Well, disc golf is quite inexpensive. At the very least, you need a single disc, which you could find for $7 at a sporting goods store or 7-Eleven. Most courses are free to play, meaning that the initial investment in a disc or discs is all you need (as long as you don't lose a disc in the woods or a river). Disc golf is a good way to exercise. It's like taking a good walk, while occasionally taking a break to throw a 150 gram piece of plastic. You can work up a pretty decent sweat playing disc golf, so it's certainly a viable method of exercise. Most importantly, disc golf is fun, and that is why more people need to play this game.
Before I proceed, I must clarify that disc golf is not good for one thing: meeting women. The only time you will see a woman playing at your local course is if she is with a male friend or a husband/boyfriend. Spotting a solo-woman at a disc golf course is the equivalent of seeing a sasquatch riding a unicorn toward a leprechaun's pot of gold. It is the rarest of rare occurrences on the disc golf course. The fine folks here at Worm Burners will be ever vigilant in trying to spot the lone disc golf female.
In the case that you've come here with a thorough understanding of disc golf, do not be worried. This blog will certainly feature enough to keep you interested. We plan on posting a number of features to both entertain and amuse both beginners and long time players. Interviews with dudes? They will be here. Interactive features that encourage reader interaction? You bet. Synopses of rounds at our local courses? YES! There will be something for all disc golf players to enjoy.
If you have come here hoping to improve your game and to become a world-class disc golf player, then prepare to be disappointed. Even so, we encourage you to stay and take a look around, as we're sure you will all find something to your liking. We plan on providing frequent, varying posts to keep all readers completely satisfied. We welcome your feedback, as we strive to truly represent disc golf for the masses. Worm Burners will become the premier destination for promoting the enjoyment of disc golf.
Where to begin? Well, disc golf is quite inexpensive. At the very least, you need a single disc, which you could find for $7 at a sporting goods store or 7-Eleven. Most courses are free to play, meaning that the initial investment in a disc or discs is all you need (as long as you don't lose a disc in the woods or a river). Disc golf is a good way to exercise. It's like taking a good walk, while occasionally taking a break to throw a 150 gram piece of plastic. You can work up a pretty decent sweat playing disc golf, so it's certainly a viable method of exercise. Most importantly, disc golf is fun, and that is why more people need to play this game.
Before I proceed, I must clarify that disc golf is not good for one thing: meeting women. The only time you will see a woman playing at your local course is if she is with a male friend or a husband/boyfriend. Spotting a solo-woman at a disc golf course is the equivalent of seeing a sasquatch riding a unicorn toward a leprechaun's pot of gold. It is the rarest of rare occurrences on the disc golf course. The fine folks here at Worm Burners will be ever vigilant in trying to spot the lone disc golf female.
In the case that you've come here with a thorough understanding of disc golf, do not be worried. This blog will certainly feature enough to keep you interested. We plan on posting a number of features to both entertain and amuse both beginners and long time players. Interviews with dudes? They will be here. Interactive features that encourage reader interaction? You bet. Synopses of rounds at our local courses? YES! There will be something for all disc golf players to enjoy.
If you have come here hoping to improve your game and to become a world-class disc golf player, then prepare to be disappointed. Even so, we encourage you to stay and take a look around, as we're sure you will all find something to your liking. We plan on providing frequent, varying posts to keep all readers completely satisfied. We welcome your feedback, as we strive to truly represent disc golf for the masses. Worm Burners will become the premier destination for promoting the enjoyment of disc golf.
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