Tag Archives: Frisbee golf

Flying Frisbees On A Fine Fall Day

Frisbee Golfers

Audrey, Ben and Nicole are ready for some Frisbee Golf at a park in Ames, Iowa.

I’m not sure if Mark Twain really said it—sources vary on the veracity of the quote—but golf has been called “a good walk spoiled.”

No doubt, if Twain did say it, he was not talking about Frisbee Golf. In recent years, we’ve started to enjoy playing that game now and then, and today was one of our finer rounds.

For our one full day “off” during Fall Break, Audrey and I went to Ames today to meet Benjamin for lunch. Ben also introduced us to Nicole, his girlfriend. She is a sweet young lady from Omaha who is majoring in aerospace engineering—they met in a math class. Well, they would. Sounds like a rom-com, no?

Nicole taking a shot.

Nicole puts the Frisbee in the hole as Ben watches.

Anyway, after a find repast of Thai food (Ben correctly forecast not just the eatery, but what his mother would order) we went Frisbee Golfing.

I can’t really compare it to “regular” golf because I’m not a golfer, but I suspect it has more appeal to me for several reasons:

  • It’s not an upscale game. You don’t have to pay fees or belong to a country club to play Frisbee Golf. It’s not something fat white businesspeople do to make deals. People don’t wear ridiculous outfits, drive around in silly carts or hire boys to carry around their Frisbees. It’s just you, your disc, your tennis shoes (or feet, in Nicole’s case) and the thrill of the throw. It’s very Wal-Mart rather than Nordstrom’s, and thought I’m not really a Wal-Mart kind of guy, the egalitarian feel of Frisbee Golf appeals to me, while the snobbery of that other golf does not.
  • It’s a walk through a real park. Not a good walk spoiled, but a nice park stroll enhanced. Nobody grooms and poisons a Frisbee Gold course until it looks like an artificial green carpet. Frisbee Golf is played in areas that are barely mowed. Frequent trees are part of the course. I think I would get nervous being out on a “real” golf course—the saccharine perfection of the greens would disturb me, and calling those regular lawn areas a “rough” is an insult to anything that’s rough. Being on a Frisbee Golf course, on the other hand, is to be out in a fine, slightly wild, real seeming Iowa park.
  • The company is grand. I’ve usually been Frisbee golfing with my kids, who seem to run to rather laid back sorts whose fierce sense of competition is more devoted to who can make the most awful jokes while out on the course. Ben’s gal Nicole seemed to fit right into that mold, chatting and laughing and joking along with us. No doubt, we’re obnoxious to any Frisbee Golfers who care, but fortunately most Frisbee Golf courses aren’t often crowded, so our dawdling, joking, 10-shots-a-hole style of play can’t disturb others too much, and we don’t let the golfing interfere to much with the strolling, the talking, the joking or the laughing. And that’s the way it ought to be.

We played hole 1 and hole 18 and some holes in between in a rather random, rambling fashion. It was a fine, fun, warm fall day to be out, and I thoroughly enjoyed myself. It was a good use of a sunny fall afternoon!

Your's truly

Your correspondent, as Nicole borrows my camera to take this shot of me taking my shot.

Ben and the tree

Ben and the chewing gum tree we found at the park.

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You Know It’s Spring in Iowa When

  • Neighborhood kids are wearing t-shirts and shorts because the sun is shining and it’s 50 degrees.
  • The glaciers on the Rockwell Collins parking lot have become dark and dingy. They aren’t completely gone yet, but they are a lot smaller.
  • Dandelion

    Posted by "Code Poet" on Flikr. My sister Cate has seen one in bloom, which I don't doubt, and also a tom turkey trying haplessly to attract the attention of hens. Spring indeed.

    The first crocus blooms the day after the first dandelion blooms.

  • One day there are no robins. Next day they are all over the place, making noise, fighting with each other, letting the bird universe know they are here.
  • You’re riding on a bike trail in Marion and you run into a cloud of insects.
  • The sweet smell of three months of buried dog poop is everywhere.
  • Zoe finally gets a very much overdue bath.
  • Drivers in Cedar Rapids no longer seem to resent the presence of a bicycle on the street. I belong in traffic again. With the exception of male jerks driving pickup trucks. Why is that?
  • You fill up the bird feeder and the birds don’t give a damn.
  • You do one piece of yard work, and suddenly there are garden tools all over the garage and no room for a car anymore.
  • The tunnels at Mount Mercy are less crowded. At least I think they must be. I’m not in them anymore.
  • It’s light when you drive or ride your bike home.
  • It’s spring break. 2 days of hard grading followed by prep time for the busy part of the semester post break.
  • The garden stuff suddenly blooms in the aisles of Target.
  • Sledding is replaced by Frisbee golf, even if the first few rounds involve Ben sledding on mud and ruining his blue jeans. (Course, Ben could point out that I ruined blue jeans in a much more embarrassing way last summer when I bent over to pick up a Frisbee and suddenly had to hold the Frisbee just so and drive home to change my pants. Cotton tears.)
  • You can, for an hour or so a day, shut the heat off and open some windows.
  • You start thinking about training for the Bix. Then, you open a package of Thin Mints and bury yourself in them until the thinking goes away.
  • You start to wonder, again, where the rake and your work gloves are.
  • Snowdrop

    Another view of a snowdrop in my back garden. I liked the earlier photo so much that I made it my new banner when I tried out a new WordPress desgin. Do you like it?

    You notice little buds on the crab apples and hawthorns and the magnolia is starting to swell like its flowers will explode. Despite 3 months of snow cover, every plant seems to be shaking off its slumber and it feels like green things are just about to burst everywhere.

  • You don’t have to sleep under six blankets any more.
  • You meet your granddaughter at a park on C Avenue and it is crowded with tots and parents.
  • Your son has to text you “where are you” when he gets home after school because your bike got lost on the way home from the park visiting your granddaughter since your bike wanted to ride on the trail in Marion. Sheepishly, you text back (because he posed the question in Spanish) “Estoy en el parque con mi bicicleta. Estoy yendo a mi casa ahora.” Your Spanish is so rusty and you’re so bad at texting that this takes around 10 minutes—about the time it would have taken you to just ride home on your bike anyway.
  • Sweat is back , and you actually start to miss winter. Just a little. Well, not really, not yet anyway. Maybe in July.


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