About That...

So I guess there was this Winter Challenge thing, where some guy on this site was going to disc golf every week during the Winter.

Needless to say, it didn't go so well.

To be honest, it sounded like a good idea. I figured that after my first round out in the snow, I would have a pretty easy go of it. You forget certain things, like you won't have free time every weekend to play, like snow is wet and shiny and hard to find discs in, like I am not good with commitment, like I often find myself in over my head with tasks.

However, the most succinct way to put it is that disc golf did not seem fun when it was a job. I played a round in what would have been week two of the challenge, and it wasn't very successful. I made a trip to Sunrise Park in Bartlett, and it was a particularly windy day. I also have a tendency to keep my discs awful high, which doesn't help on windy days. My very first shot, as two dudes waited to throw, ended up going high, high, high in the air...and then landing about 2 feet behind me.

Needless to say, not a good way to play a round. I was fairly discouraged, and thus, I was left with that to remember disc golf by during the winter. I have been back at it this spring, which has been fairly productive. I've played well at Oswego, which has been quite encouraging, and I've now begun to master the Innova BEAST. The combination of beast and Oswego resulted in a birdie on the very difficult 17th hole. I really like the way I throw it, as I go consistent and long with it every time. So thumbs up to me (and then to the beast).

I will no longer commit myself to ridiculous endeavors and I will just blog as disc golf allows me to. We're hoping to get some rounds in this weekend, though the weather may not cooperate. Only time will tell.

I will include two links, to leave this post. First, I noticed one website absent from the links provided by my cohorts. Disc Golf Course Review is a great website for a quick course locator, along with reviews. I would like to noted that my reviews are regarded quite well, with 50 thumbs up and only five thumbs down. I figure that five people must just be jealous, or ugly, or jealous ugly dudes.

The next is our Facebook page! Just search "Worm Burners" on Facebook and add us, you'll know which ones to add. Just look for the awesome flaming disc. It's pretty bare now, but we'll soon add exclusive pictures and disc golf commentary. More than anything, we will inspire a sense of disc golf community in our readership. We're all about community here at Worm Burners. And by community, we mean racking up the readers until the ad revenue starts to roll in. To that extent, we thrive on community.

Please, readers...be our community.

Winter Challenge - Week 1

On Sunday, my ForecastFox plug-in said it was 3 degrees outside. I thought to myself 'wow, this would be a great morning for disc golf.' That might be because I'm determined, or because I'm an idiot...but this determined idiot managed to make it out to Sunny Hill Disc Golf Course in Streamwood. Once there, I accomplished the following:

1. Did not lose any discs.
2. Did not die.

Therefore, I must label the initial leg of the 2008 Winter Challenge a success! I really set myself up for success, as I knew it would be difficult to lose a disc in a course as open as this. The course, however, was just as busy as it was when I played it in the fall.

Okay, so that's not very busy. Really, I'm glad it wasn't. While I didn't lose a disc, I certainly came close three times. The worst was on the second hole. I thought I got a good look at where the disc went, but I totally lost it. I walked around for maybe ten minutes while some dumb, fenced-in dog barked at me. When I finally gave up, I found the disc walking toward the next hole. The third was not so kind, either - the disc was buried in the snow behind someone's house, but I found it with greater ease.

The terrain wasn't too bad - some areas were easy to walk on, but there were also some places where the snow was unnecessarily deep. Like, maybe where I fell face-first on the second. There was maybe two feet of snow on top of these large rocks - now why in the hell are there rocks at some park? That could seriously injure someone, or more specifically, some moron playing disc golf in the winter.

But actually, it was not all that bad playing in the cold. I am stocked up with all of my winter gear: thermals, waterproof boots, wool socks, Hot Hands hand-warmers, hoodie, the Chicago Bears windbreaker that I got with my new Sports Illustrated subscription, and some awesomely weird scarf/mask/hood hybrid my wife got me for my birthday. With all of that great stuff, I was able to stay properly warm. I also kept a single glove on my left hand, and between throws, I would keep my right hand in my pocket with the hand-warmer. I could not have been much better protected from the elements.

In all, I enjoyed the first day of the Winter Challenge. Maybe the next course will have tee markers that aren't totally covered by Vince Palumbo's constant lying about his aces. Give it up, Vince - there's no way you aced all nine holes at least three or four times. You should spend more time practicing and spend less time being a big fat liar.

For winter disc golf, Sunny Hill in Streamwood, Illinois is...recommended!

The Winter Challenge

This just in: the winter might not be the best time for disc golf.

Yeah, no kidding. It also doesn't help when you start a disc golf blog in the late fall. However, there are certain ways around issues like this. And thus, the winter challenge is born.

For 13 weeks, beginning with this week, I strive to play one round of disc golf every week. I have done extensive research, determining which courses are open for the winter in northern Illinois. Thankfully, most courses seem to be open at this time of the year. One nice, yet, uninformed lady with the Buffalo Grove Park District informed me that the baskets are removed from their two courses, however, the courses are still open for rounds of disc golf. Somebody needs to get Kristy Vik, Director of Facilities and Programs, out on a disc golf course so she can figure out how this works.

It will certainly be difficult to play more wooded courses, however, I certainly have a few in mind that would be good for winter disc golf. Randall Oaks in West Dundee, Prairie Park in DeKalb, and Sunny Hill in Streamwood are three good examples of this. The main goals will be don't lose a disc and don't die, and those are definitely listed in order of importance. I think that I have hedged my bets against death, as I've aquired the finest in moderately/cheaply priced winter gear. There should be no way an ounce of water touches my skin (save for some kind of incident involving thin ice). Losing a disc, however, might be more problematic.

Many questions remain unanswered: what kind of awesome guests will join me? How will these discs act in the cold air? Will brining a shovel to clear tee-pads make me a point of ridicule? How many licks does it take to get to the center of a Tootsie Roll Pop? These next 13 weeks will be arduous and likely death-defying, but there's one thing I can be almost certain of...

It will be cold: very, very cold.

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.