John Muir was a bearded man of many titles: naturalist, mountaineer, environmental philosopher, botanist. Like many intrepid, insightful souls, he took to the mountains when life became complicated. Or perhaps, when life called. With that inspiration in mind, I and two hearty compatriots set a course for two of the great mountain ranges in the eastern USA: the Adirondack mountains of New York, and the Green Mountains of the eponymous Vermont. I had spent youthful summers in Middlebury, Vermont, and I hoped to find something lost, something delayed, in the golf of that part of this large nation.
We found much of what Muir and others relished about the mountains. The sensation of being both small and large, simultaneously. The restriction of watching shots soar into the sky, only to fall short of the elevated target. The freedom to smash a ball off an elevated deck, and watch its nearly-eternal descent toward the fairway below. Mountain golf, when done right, occupies a legitimate and earned place in the pantheon of proper golf architecture. This trip revealed and reminded, and we returned to the flatlands of western New York a bit altered, in the best of ways.
Mountains know secrets that we need to learn Anonymous
It seemed appropriate to begin with less knowledge and more anonymity. This was not a trodden path that I would follow. It was invented, altered, and accepted. It began at the gate to the Adirondack mountains, in Wilton, New York.
McGregor Links is a Devereux Emmet design, that gave us one of the fiercest competitors in LPGA history, in Dottie Pepper. The course was built in the 1920s, and was etched into the woodlands that serve as the foothills of the Adirondack Mountains. Saratoga Springs, its raceway, and its college (Skidmore) are not far off, and the connection between the club and the town is a strong one. For years, McGregor Links operated as a semi-private club, but has recently transitioned to private status, but with an asterisk. I’m not saying that there will be a tee time for you, but I will state that there might be and that it is worth your time and money to make the call and play the course.
As I think back to our afternoon at McGregor, I marvel at how the course was able to sequester itself among the trees, as houses grew along its fairways, yet not become a tree-choked golf course. I recall the number of bunkers that Devereux Emmet put in places where bunkers normally aren’t found: thirty yards shy of the green, fifty yards shy of the green, at a diagonal cutting the hole in two triangles, and down the center line. If you are a modern golf aficionado, a fan of the work of Fazio, Jones (any of the three), Nicklays, Palmer, Hills, even Weiskopf, this golf will jar you. It is the sort of quake that shatters and then heals, and you come away with an understanding that there is more out there, and it comes from long ago.
Mountains are the cathedrals where I practice my religion Anatoli Boukreev
Everyone needs a Sandy in their orbit. Sandy Caligiore is one of those old souls that knows what to say at the proper time, where to point on the map, and when to listen. Sandy served as our unofficial guide around Lake Placid, the beautiful Adirondack town where we made our base camp for four days. Actually, it was five days, because I only booked our VRBO for four days. Fortunately for me, our host and I came to an understanding on the fifth day, and we didn’t have to sleep on Eric Heiden’s track in town.
Eric Heiden won his five speedskating gold medals at the 1980 Olympic Games on a flooded, high school track. No cap. Can you imagine the Olympics allowing that in 2026? No, we don’t need a four million dollar arena. We’ll just use those stands and flood that oval. Heiden was the other big ice story in 1980 (when I was 14 years old) adjacent to that hockey team from that country, that stunned the world.
Our Sunday (day one) in LP began at Whiteface Club Resort, and Sandy joined us for our round. Talk about having a great guide! He told us where to hit the ball and what to avoid, and most of the time, it worked out as planned. When it didn’t, laughter echoed among the trees. Whiteface Club Resort is the LP course that you want to play, when you want to feel close to the arbor. The trees line the fairways, and that’s the vibe. You don’t come here for a linksy feel, and you don’t come here if you can’t hit your drive decently straight.
Whiteface was designed by John Van Kleek after his partnership with Wayne Stiles dissolved. It is a irons and putters course. Why? Well, you don’t always need driver, but you must find the fairway. Then you need to find the putting surface with your approach. Finally, you need to be patient with the putter, pray that you are below the hole, and gauge your speed properly. Whiteface has the standard, heroic downhill drive that all great mountain courses have, and it has plenty of subtler ones, plus shots up hills, plus the coolest rooming option that served as the original clubhouse.
I’ll not forget the holes that wound their way into stands of trees, with enough shorn from the land, to give us proper passage. I’ll remember that bathtub of a bunker on the par-three 14th, and the bathtub of a lower-right tier on the putting surface. You could spend a lifetime attempting to coax a ball from above, within five feet of a lower-cut hole, and have no success. Golf at Whiteface at times tells you the one way to do something, and lets you know that if you err, you will need both guile and grace to finish the hole.
Over every mountain, there is a path, although it may not be seen from the valley Theodore Roethke
The Lake Placid Club brags 45 holes of golf on its property. The Mountain course houses eight of its eighteen holes on the near (north) side of route 86, and the other decade on the south side of the road. It’s a well-traveled thoroughfare, and the cars move quickly, so be cautious when you cross. It’s an unavoidable passage, as you need to go over and back when you go to the range, and when you play the Links course. The entire Links occupies land farther south of the ten-pack of Mountain course holes. Unless your driver is undisciplined, route 86 will have no other impact on the golf. After a morning or two of challenge on the two big courses, you can repair to the Pristine Nine, a fun half-track that takes you down the bog, adjacent to the Mountain 18, with holes that would be at home on any fine golf course.
A pair of grand men of Scotland laid down the golf courses of the Lake Placid Club. Alex Findlay gave us the Mountain course, although there is rumor that Alestir MacKenzie did some tweek here or there. Honestly, nothing about the Mountain cried out the method of the genius who put forth Crystal Downs and Pasatiempo, so we’ll move along and credit Findlay. Findlay also pumped out the Pristine nine, holding back on the distance but offering blind greens on more than one occasion. Seymour Dunn contrived the Links layout, and becamse so enamoured of the area that he put down roots, designing other courses across the Adirondack region.
The Mountain course gets its name from the eight-pack of holes that play along the southern side of route 86. They are the ones that do battle with the slope on which the clubhouse rests. The other holes would be at home on the Links 18. As far as the Links holes go, pray that you catch the course when not much rain has fallen in recent times. We caught it during a moist patch, and much of the firmness and fastness of links golf was in temporary hibernation. We could envision running balls up to greens and along fairways, but the rich earth was a bit too saturated to allow it to happen.
It’s not the mountain we conquer, but ourselves Sir Edmund Hillary
The hidden gem of Lake Placid golf is the municipal Craig Wood golf course. Also done by Dunn, Craig Wood benefits from the most diverse property across all of the region’s golf, and from the the best routing of holes in the area. Craig Wood was a Lake Placid homebred, and the unfortunate victim of Gene Sarazen’s double eagle at the 1935 Masters. Despite his playoff loss to the Squire, he rebounded to earn victories at the Masters and US Open in 1941, after five runner-up finishes in major events.
The brilliance of the Craig Wood routing, is that Dunn allows you to see the entirety of the hole that lays before you, and much of the path that is to come. On the inward side, a few holes run solitary temple corridors, but the grandeur of those halls is such that you don’t mind. You know that home is coming, but any urgency to finish sifted off long ago. This is a round of golf that you don’t wish to ever come to conclusion.
The oddity of golf course reservations is that they don’t always come to fruition. We had a round at an elite club near Albany locked up, until it was rescinded. We had a round at Rutland in the books, until the tee sheet at the Vermont state men’s mid-amateur delayed it beyond our potential. A six p.m. tee time was not in the cards, for anywhere below 57 degrees latitude. We parachuted into the depths of the internet, and found Ticonderoga Golf Club. It happened to be on our route to Manchester, Vermont, and boasted a heritage that began with Seymour Dunn, our friend from Lake Placid. And just like that, we were on our way to a new destination.
As you come into Ticonderoga from the north and west, the Ticonderoga golf course reveals all that you need to see on your right. A ridge that must have sent Dunn into sprials of joy runs the entirety of the property, from south to north. Golf holes rise up to the ridge, then tumble down beyond, and you cannot wait to take a rip. In the 2010s, Ticonderoga decided to undertake an in-house project to correct flooding issues, and the results have been close to spectacular. Insiders from the club have suggested that the course might have shuttered, especially after a clubhouse fire in 2018. Fast forward to 2026, and a new clubhouse and reinvigorated course welcome members and guests with grace and excitement. Beyond the aforementioned ridge, the Trout Brook flows in an impossbily-serpentine fashion, creating nooks and corners over which shots must soar, and inside which greens may be hidden.
The first nine holes, part Dunn and part revision, feature three of each par and move along the northern portion of the property. The first three holes sail over the roller-coaster ridge, sending tee shots beyond the horizon and into points unknown. No doubt, a bit of local knowledge on driving lines is helpful (my stunning lay-up on three was lost to the mists of history) but the roils and folds are beyond tasty. The fourth and fifth move up and west to the deepest reach of the property, then return eastward, concluding with four memorable holes.
The second nine holes move to the south, and it is this segment of the property that features a completely new extension of the Seymour Dunn vision. The funny thing about these holes is, many feel as if the master might have drawn them himself. The dogleg-right 14th is the crown jewel of this renovative undertaking. The hole caps at 450 yards, the perfect distance for a half-par hole typically built in the golden age. Call them rightside bunkers, call them centerline bunkers, but the sand pits in the drive zone bewilder and confuse. Do you tack right, or meander left? Either direction finds promised land, but a longish approach awaits. The closing four holes feature a pair of original Dunns, in the guise of a drivable four, and reachable but treacherous five, and all-new three, and a modified 18th. No matter the numbers you write down on the scorecard, you’ll summit the hill to the clubhouse from the final putting surface in a somewhat breathless fashion. Part will derive from the elevation change, and the rest will emerge from the thrill ride that closed your round.
What are men to rocks and mountains? Jane Austen
After we arrived in Vermont, a place that is dear to my heart and a space that held us for too few days, we settled in at our 1820s VRBO farmhouse. It had a record collection, can you believe it! Vinyl sounds different and great. Despite its age, the home was spacious, airy, and comfotable. Its funny how you consider a rental after you leave, and you realize that it would be a cool place to just hang out and write, and to heck with the outside world.
We were about fifteen minutes drive from Manchester, in the southern portion of the state. We had a date at the two E courses, that despite their adjacency, have little in common architecturally. Well, maybe they share more than a little. Their author, Walter J. Travis, designed Ekwanok Club in 1899, and it was his first golf course. A few decades later, he returned to Manchester and bequeathed the Equinox Resort to the town. He was summoned as an important member at the club had decided that the town needed more golf, to handle the overflow from the club. Good thing.
Rees Jones came through in the 1990s and put his unmistakable stamp on the Equinox. I was concerned, as I know that Mr. Jones sometimes sucks the soul out of a golden age course, in the name of enhancing difficulty for elite professionals. Fortunately, we were told that the bunkering was the principal thing that Jones altered. The routing is the same and the greens, for the most part, are signed by Travis. The Equinox is a mountain course, from the drop off the first tee, to the gentle rises at nine and eighteen, to the exhausing summit of the par-four, thirteenth green.
When it comes to Ekwanok, I’m reticent to write too much. It is an elite and fairly-exclusive, private club. It doesn’t feel that way, once you are on property, but it is the getting there that provides the second-greatest challenge. The foremost challenge is the golf course itself. George Arthur Crump’s first effort, at Pine Valley, was judged quite a success. Hugh Wilson at Merion, and the Fownes father-son team at Oakmont, also struck golf in their first architectural endeavors. It is appropriate that Ekwanok stands as Walter J. Travis’ first golf course design, as it features sublime challenge and interest across all eighteen holes, combined with the audacity to conceive and build a 600-yard par five, that ascends and crosses a heighty saddle, all in the days of wooden shafts and tranquil golf balls. When planning a trip, aim for the stars. Sometimes, when you ask the most polished, cutest kid in class to the prom, the kid says Yes.
Epilogue: Mechanicville
In all honesty, Mechanicville’s nine-hole, Devereux Emmet golf course shouldn’t exist. The former private club sits in a town whose paper-mill days are in the distant past. The course is now open to the public, operates on a shoestring budget, and counts member volunteers among its groundscrew. And yet, of all the courses that we played on our journey, Mechanicville is the one that offers the greatest hope to the soul of the game. The nine-hole tract of land plays differently over 18 holes. The fifth hole of either playing travels over the Knickerbocker Road, as does the sixth at Equinox Resort, across a different byway. Equal parts majestic and halcyon, the trust in the golfer to navigate the pavement and the automobiles hearkens a bygone era. Even Glens Falls Country Club eliminated its traverse of the Blind Rock Road. The preservation of such a feature is essentially human. Mechanicville has access to the upper Hudson River, and with effort and fortune, it may trim back some arbor to reveal vistas of the great water course. Mechanicville plays two holes differently on each nine. The sixth plays as either a four or a three, and the seventh plays opposite to its immediate predecessor. Our time in town was brief. There should be much to explore in the area. With fortune, we will return. Until then, the course is in the capable, devoted hands of the course superintendent and his number one assistant, member and volunteer Bob Murphy (not the golf pro/commentator.) We anticipate that Mechanicville will survive. It might even thrive, and golf will be better. About the only, outlandish notion that I might suggest to the members and denizens, is to find a way to make the course reversible. If we are able to stumble onto a Mechanicville on each of our journeys, we will be the fortuitous beneficiaries of golf’s rewards.
Top Five Public Access Courses, Ranked
- Craig Wood
- Equinox Resort
- Lake Placid Mountain
- Ticonderoga
- Whiteface Resort
Top Five Courses, Ranked
- Ekwanok
- Craig Wood
- Equinox Resort
- McGregor Links
- Lake Placid Mountain
Top Five Watering Holes, Ranked
- Whiteface Club Resort Moose Lodge Boathouse, Lake Placid NY
- Bronwyn-on-Battenkill, Arlington VT
- Lake Placid Pub and Brewery, Lake Placid, NY
- Mirror Lake Inn, Lake Placid NY
- Whiteface Club Resort Cafe on the Green, Lake Placid NY
Best Par Three Holes, Ranked
- 13th at Ekwanok, 214/197 yards
- 14th at Lake Placid Links, 202/184 yards
- 13th at Craig Wood, 178/168 yards
- 13th at McGregor Links, 141/126 yards
- 7th at Mechanicville, 187 yards
Best Par Four Holes, Ranked
- 1st at Ticonderoga, 352 yards
- 10th at Craig Wood, 315/292 yards
- 1st at Lake Placid Mountain,
- 13th at Equinox Resort, 401/423 yards
- 3rd at Mechanicville, 283/307 yards
Best Par Five Holes, Ranked
- 7th at Ekwanok, 568/585/597 yards
- 6th at McGregor Links, 548/542 yards
- 7th at Equinox Resort, 522/502 yards
- 5th at Lake Placid Links, 581/526 yards
- 11th at Ticonderoga, 570/548 yards
Best Swag Purchases, Ranked
- Kevin’s posh rain jacket, Lake Placid Club
- Eric’s collection of ball markers, seven in total
- Ron’s lightweight hoodie, Craig Wood
- Kevin’s flexible belt, Equinox Resort
- Ron’s fairway metal headcover, Ekwanok Country Club
- Kevin’s polo, Craig Wood
- Ron’s polo, Ticonderoga golf course
