But there’s more to golf in the nation’s smallest state than The Donald’s inverted saucer greens and grass-faced bunkers. Shelter Harbor Golf Club in Charlestown, which debuted in 2005 and was the first private club to open in Washington County in more than 100 years, can stake a claim as one of Littly Rhody’s finest courses.

Laid out by Michael Hurdzan and Dana Fry, the 7,029-yard, par-71 layout rambles across rolling, glacier-scraped terrain a mile and a half from the sea. Wetlands, mature hardwoods, rock walls, huge boulders and fescue-covered mounds define many of the holes. The fairways are generously wide, but the approach shots to the slick, undulating greens, many of them protected by deep gouged bunkers, are challenging. This is a bold course that takes full advantage of the quirky Yankee terrain.

Recently named to Golfweek’s list of the Best Modern Courses in the U.S., Shelter Harbor has received another award it cherishes just as much. The state’s Department of Environmental Management (DEM) has recognized five Rhode Island golf courses for their commitment to employing “green” environmental practices as part of a program sponsored by the Rhode Island Turf Grass Foundation. Shelter Harbor earned its way onto the list through a variety of measures.

The self-certification program is designed to reduce environmental impacts at golf courses from water usage, chemical applications, energy consumption, solid waste and air emissions. The overall goal is to help the golf industry keep Rhode Island’s land, air and water resources healthy, and at the same time cut operating expenses.

The par-5 ninth hole swings past bunkers to a hilltop green

Shelter Harbor has succeeded admirably on all counts. The club, cited by the DEM as a leader in golf course sustainability practices, has installed a state-of-the-art irrigation system and adopted and implemented a strict environmental policy. By securing a permanent easement during the planning phase, the founding members ensured that open space would be preserved and that residential development would be prohibited.

On the agronomy side, the club’s grass selections are ideal. The Velvet bentgrass greens are disease-resistant and requires less water than other bentgrass varietals. The fairways are surfaced in a mixture of fescues and bentgrass that flourish in the seaside environment. This blend has substantially reduced water, fertilizer and plant protection requirements. In sum, Shelter Harbor has demonstrated a strong commitment to conservation both on the golf course and in the clubhouse.

And what a clubhouse it is. Commanding one of the highest promontories in Rhode Island, Shelter Harbor’s 44,000-square-foot, Shingle-style edifice serves up commanding views of rolling fairways and the surrounding countryside from its octagonal gazebo. From the cupola and widow’s walk atop the clubhouse can be seen the sparkling waters of Block Island Sound and beyond the Atlantic Ocean. It’s one of the prettiest coastal views in New England.

Shortly before the golf course opened seven years ago, Dana Fry had this to say about what he called one of his firm’s most important projects.

“It (Shelter Harbor) represents a perfect blending of golf and the environment in a state where protecting the environment is a top priority,” he stated. “In our opinion, Shelter Harbor is destined to be ranked among the best golf courses in the U.S.” Mission accomplished. With a green star attached.

In other words, I came in for a huge reality check last week at Reynolds Plantation.

In addition to grooving my indoor swing, I had of course planned ahead for my Golf Road Warriors experience. I packed suntan lotion. Extra gloves. Enough tees to start a matchstick factory. And of course golf balls.

But not just any golf balls. I packed “early season” balls. Not mid-season, tour-quality balls. But the less expensive, lower compression models. In other words, the ones I wouldn’t mind losing in the woods. in the water, wherever.

Thankfully, Jeff Wallach, our Chief Warrior, handed me a sleeve of Callaway’s HEX Black Tour Golf Ball.

I’m here to tell you, there’s a difference between a tour-level ball and a $21.99 per dozen ball. Even for a guy like me who used to be a reliable 10-handicapper but who now hits it all over the place, the difference was noticeable.

When I made solid contact with my driver and irons, the sound produced—a rich, resounding “click”—was very satisfying. The distance was about what I expected, and the ball held its line in the wind, but what I most liked about the HEX Black Tour was the way it felt and performed around the greens. The ball was soft, almost pliable on the clubface. I felt I could really control my pitches and chips. I was also able to spin the ball out of the sand with no problem. However, the ball was at its best on the green. A good feel and consistent roll every time I putted.

I was also impressed with the ball’s durability. I hit trees, cart paths and more than my share of bunkers during the round, yet the ball remained unblemished. This is a ball that can do it all.

I thought Callaway Golf staff pros and brand ambassadors Phil Mickelson and Ernie Els were blowing smoke when they sang the praises of the HEX Black Tour in their promotional videos. Even with my rusty snowbird game, my experience with this ball was positive in all departments. Now I have to get good enough to earn the right to use it on a regular basis.

Because the season’s first major is nearly upon us, it’s easier to assess the appeal of this 10,000-acre community in Georgia’s red clay country 75 miles east of Atlanta. For this reason: An hour’s drive west of the development is Augusta, as in Augusta National, home of the Masters and every golfer’s idealized image of the perfect inland course.

Augusta has exerted a powerful influence on golf design throughout the interior regions of the South, especially places where the land rolls and the pines grow tall. With its piney woods abloom with white dogwoods and pink azaleas, an Augusta fantasy can play out quite convincingly on a fine spring day at Reynolds Plantation, especially on the National, Tom Fazio’s subtle homage to Augusta.

At Reynolds, members and resort guests are privy to a panoply of golf excellence few other communities can match. With 117 holes draped across rolling hills and dropped along the shores of Lake Oconee, Reynolds Plantation offers exceptional variety. Each venue has a fully staffed golf shop. Swing fix? Reynolds Golf Academy will get you back on track. New sticks? The TaylorMade Kingdom, located adjacent to the Oconee Course, is where the touring pros go to get fitted for the tools of their trade. You can too.

Golf is the engine that drives the train at Reynolds, but there’s plenty to do after the final putts are holed. Spanning 19,000 acres, Lake Oconee, Georgia’s second largest lake, offers some of the state’s best fishing. Locals reckon there are 43 pounds of largemouth bass per acre in Lake Oconee. You can test the theory by hiring a guide (ask for Norris) at one of the resort’s marinas and trying your luck on a lake that boasts 374 miles of shoreline. With or without a fishing rod, boating is a pleasure on Lake Oconee, especially a peaceful moonlight cruise on a pontoon boat. By day, water sports range from canoeing and kayaking to water-skiing to wake-boarding.

The community boasts 15 miles of nature trails that wind through the forest and along the lakeshore, giving hikers and joggers a chance to see deer, turkey, fox, otter and waterfowl. Reynolds Plantation is also home to a resident bald eagle colony.

The dining options at Reynolds are excellent. Two of my favorites are Gaby’s by the Lake at The Ritz-Carlton Lodge, a casual, open-air restaurant set on a stone patio that features savory grilled entrees; and Linger Longer Steakhouse in the Oconee Course clubhouse, which offers classic steakhouse cuisine with wines to match.

Charming small towns and a few rare gems can be found outside the gates of the community. For example, nearby Eatanton was the home of author Joel Chandler Harris, creator of the Uncle Remus Tales. Brer Rabbit himself resides at the Uncle Remus Museum.

A short drive north of the resort is Madison, a lovely town spared by General Sherman during his infamous march through the South. The town’s beautifully preserved historic district has dozens of antebellum buildings. Madison is known for small antique shops that offer everything from heirloom jewelry to large credenzas. For an inkling of what life was like in the South before the Industrialized Age, visit the Madison-Morgan Cultural Center.

Is Reynolds Plantation for everyone? No, it’s not. This is a quiet, refined getaway designed to appeal to affluent country clubbers accustomed to well-groomed courses and courteous service. Property ownership is a requirement for membership at Reynolds, but resort guests can enjoy all the benefits of the community without plunking down an initiation deposit.

The Ritz-Carlton Lodge, overlooking the Oconee Course, is one of the most stylish retreats in the South. Opened in 2002, the fieldstone and shake-sided lodge makes a favorable first impression: The flagstone-floored lobby has Oriental rugs, hardwood beams stretched across its cathedral ceiling, comfortable leather couches and a large stone fireplace. The spacious guest rooms are done up in warm earth tones of amber, green and brown. Most feature lake views from their verandas. Rooms are furnished with antique reproductions, while the elegant bathrooms, accented in marble and granite, have a separate shower and freestanding bathtubs. Indoor and outdoor pools, notably a beautiful infinity-edge pool set above the lake and its attractive man-made beach, complete the picture. The Lodge also manages six multi-bedroom cottages and a 5,400-square-foot Presidential House. Each is tucked alongside the 18^th hole of the Oconee Course.

The hotel’s top amenity is its 26,000-square-foot spa, which features décor and treatments influenced by the Creek Indians who once inhabited the area. Nestled on one of the lake’s secluded coves, the spa utilizes native herbs and flowers as well as Georgia red clay, which Native Americans and early settlers valued for its medicinal value. The theme of the treatments changes with each season.

In addition to The Ritz-Carlton Lodge, Reynolds Plantation offers an array of multi-bedroom golf villas and cottages sprinkled throughout the property. These nicely furnished units, designed for prospective real estate buyers, typically include a cheerful living room, a large, fully-equipped kitchen, and a deck or porch with a golf course view. Again, the golf courses at Reynolds are accessible to Ritz-Carlton guests as well as those who purchase one of the property’s “Discovery Packages.”

In sum, Reynolds is not raucous. It’s refined. If you want action, go to Myrtle Beach. If you want a serene getaway that simulates, just a little, it’s more famous neighbor to the east,  then Reynolds Plantation is an ideal choice.

This isn’t going to be easy. I’m home now. In rural Connecticut. Where it’s drizzling and 39 degrees. Seven degrees colder and it’s snowing.

In other words, I’m no longer a Golf Road Warrior. I’m a stay-at-home dad who works out of the house. I’m not comfortably ensconced in a multi-bedroom condo tucked into a grove of tall Georgia pines with a nice verandah where the salubrious air is scented by Nature. Outside my office window, the daffodils look unhappy to have burst from the earth when the weather was unseasonably warm last week. Inside, my warrior’s weapons—my golf clubs—lay forlornly on the floor. There’s no telling when I’ll get a chance to use them again.

But use them I did at Reynolds Plantation. It’s hard to conceive playing courses as varied and excellent as the Landing, National, Oconee, Great Waters and The Creek Club in the span of five days. Now that the deed is done, I can pause to reflect and sum up the experience.

But that’s for a later post. My most recent memory is yesterday’s round at The Creek Club, the community’s private members-only venue.

Sometimes a first impression doesn’t count. Our accommodations were adjacent to The Creek Club. From what I saw, there appeared to be a great deal of overcooked vertical hoopla on the course. But that is the way of Jim Engh, a true original in the golf design profession. With ideas rooted in Greek architecture and a strong sense of symmetry, this Colorado-based maverick and iconoclast built a course that would have been a serious mistake had Reynolds Plantation only one venue in mind. But with 99 holes of golf, the owners could afford to let a guy like Engh (“Mr. Exuberance”) go to town on a lovely parcel of rolling, wooded terrain.

Engh, for all the controversy generated by his work, actually delights in building visually intimidating courses that play less difficult than they look. Most of his layouts are found in the western U.S. and are unknown to golfers who live east of the Mississippi. Seven years ago, I spent a day with Engh at The Golf Club at Black Rock on the shores of Lake Coeur d’Alene in Idaho. Even my 10-year-old daughter, Jordana, was impressed by Jim’s handiwork, but then, she always went big and bold in the sandbox.

Back to The Creek Club. Engh grabs you by the collar from the get-go. The elevated first tee looks down to a creek that runs diagonally across the entire left side of the fairway. Staring you in the face just where you want to place your drive is a large bunker enveloped by giant grassy molehills, his signature look. Naturally, I drove into this steep-sided monstrosity.

The only thing Engh likes better than heavily mounded bunkers are heavily-sloped, amphitheater-style greens. Many of the ones he built here are punchbowls that gather the ball. Which is nice for those of us who don’t fire pinpoint approaches at the flag.

My playing partners, head pro Wes Forester and fellow warrior David Gould (who insisted on walking the course despite its Everestian climbs), had a nice moment at the par-3 11^th hole, where we waved through former Masters champ Ian Woosnam and his group. The Welsh are naturally voluble, and Ian was no exception. I reminded him of our meeting several years ago at Royal Westmoreland in Barbados, where he maintains a home. We exchanged a few pleasantries, I wished him luck at Augusta, and off he went.

Golf-wise, the highlight of the round was the 12^th hole, which I’m going on record to declare as one of the finest and most fascinating par 5’s in the world. There must be 40 ways to play this masterful creation. I can’t do it justice in words, but suffice to say, there are two fairways bisected by a channel of Richland Creek, a pair of pines that will knock down an errant second shot, and a lolling tongue of a green defended to the left by one of Engh’s burrowing animal bunkers.

Forester, an accomplished player and consummate gentleman, pointed out that over 150 holes-in-one have been recorded at the short par-3 13^th since the course opened in 2007. This is especially true when the pin in placed on the front portion of the four- (or is it five?) tiered green. Banked on both sides, even slightly errant shots are funneled to the center. Golf is supposed to be fun. Engh makes his point on No. 13 at The Creek Club.

On the other hand, Mr. Exuberance goes the limit on the pull-out-all-stops par-5 18^th, where he built three separate greens because that’s what the land wanted, or so he says. The hole location shifts daily. The pin sheet in the cart tells you which green is in use—Left, Right or Center—so you can plan your strategy accordingly. All three greens are completely differently one from the next. My advice: Retain your sense of humor. This is a Jim Engh-designed golf course.

The rain has subsided here in Stonington, but the skies are leaden and the landscape lifeless outside my office window. I long for the warm Georgia sun, a small helping of cheese grits at breakfast, the mellow drawl of one of the starters before teeing off on one of the superlative courses at Reynolds Plantation. What a place!

WRONG!

I didn’t throw my entire set of clubs in the lake at the Great Waters Course this morning, but I was sorely tempted. The real shame of it is, this Jack Nicklaus-designed layout, opened in 1992,  is a brilliant test that has everything an avid player could want.

Jack, who early in his design career tended to rely on serious earthworks to create take-no-prisoners courses, decided to shelve his customary land features–exaggerated mounds, plateau fairways, miniscule greens–in favor of a playable, aesthetically pleasing course. Heroic efforts find their reward, yes, but cautious shots are not banished, which wasn’t always the case with Jack’s courses in the get-tough ’80s.

Handed a spectacular piece of land, Nicklaus delivered the goods but also exercised restraint. Half the holes at Great Waters flank the shores of Lake Oconee. Forced carries are rare: Most of the water is parallel to the line of play. The layout’s pleasant front nine runs inland through a pine forest, with a man-made creek in play at four greens. The peninsular back nine circulates players from one lake cove to the next. And while the challenge from the tips at 7,073 yards will get a good player’s attention, multiple sets of forward tees give everyone a chance to enjoy a user-friendly course that signaled a new direction for Jack as an architect. Great Waters playeis also the course that garnered national praise for Reynolds Plantation and thrust the resort community into an elite category.

The routing, one of Jack’s best, brings players to the brink of the lake at the ninth, a mid-length par 4 where the tee shot cascades to an open, descending fairway. Players must then cross one of the lake’s fingers to reach a green guarded in front and to the right by water. It is a preview of things to come, for the back nine at Great Waters, with a portion of each hole tracing the lakeshore and with six greens flush against the water, is to my mind the finest peninsula-and-cove golf experience in America. Here’s why: There’s just enough terra firma to offer strategic options and more than enough water to keep things interesting, especially when a breeze stirs off the lake.

Among the more intriguing holes on this dazzling stretch is the petite par-4 11th, which Nicklaus actually shortened during the design phase to tempt big hitters to try for the green with their drives. A 200-foot-wide peninsula green attached to the fairway by a narrow spit provides a generous target, but with water down the entire left side, a hooked drive is doomed to a watery grave. Believe me, I speak from experience.

The 14th and 17th holes are both bewitching par 3’s that require bold shots over the lake, while the stellar par-5 18th calls for a fair amount of planning in return for par. Once again, an inlet of the lake must be negotiated to reach a rock-rimmed green protected to the rear by a deep bunker designed to foil those who overclub to take the water out of play.

The biggest change from the last time I played here? The greens. Two years ago, the original bentgrass greens were resurfaced with Miniverde Bermudagrass, a unique varietal that thrives in this climate.

I grew up putting slick bentgrass greens in Westchester County, New York. Not even close. The greens on Great Waters are like greased lightning. Very true, but extremely fast.

I don’t know what the greens will be like next week at Augusta National during the Masters, but the way I’m playing, I doubt I’ll get a chance to find out if they’re any faster than the ones at Great Waters.

And so I did what any sensible media guy, or any embattled Golf Road Warrior, would do at a classy full-service operation like Reynolds Plantation. I prostrated myself before the powers-that-be and asked for help. It was given, but there was a condition: Rise early in darkness, be as chipper as the chirping birds, and get thee to the Golf Academy by 7:30 a.m., there to meet with Rob Bowser, the lead staff instructor.

Bowser sized me up pretty quickly. Here, I’m sure he thought, is a desperate golf/travel writer on the back nine of life looking for a quick fix. After a brief interview and a few half-wedge shots. Bowser had me diagnosed. It was all about swing path. Mine was faulty. Rob set up a bunch of props—a stick in the ground with a puff ball at one end was one—designed to get me swinging from the inside on my downswing. My brain got it, but my body, with its ingrained bad habits, was slower to respond. But I did march off to the first tee on the Oconee Course with a tad more confidence than I had previously.

Thanks to the ministrations of Mark Lammi, VP of Golf at Reynolds Plantation, who picked up where Rob left off, I started hitting more solid shots. And what a place to make those shots.

The Oconee, named for the lake it visits at a few holes, was built 10 years ago by Rees Jones. While known as the “Open Doctor” for his remodeling work at vintage courses to prepare them for major competitions, Jones’s original designs are also noteworthy. Rees strives for a classic, traditional presentation, and he achieves it here.

While not unaware of course aesthetics and their subliminal impact on a golfer, Jones is all about risk/reward options for experts and plenty of forgiveness for players of lesser attainment. The rolling fairways are broad. They are not overdressed with bunkers. Water comes into play at nine holes, but it can be circumvented in most cases. The greens, surfaced in bentgrass, are large, firm and fast. They’re among the finest I have putted in the Southeast.

The idea on the Oconee is to make time on the front nine. The longer, tougher back nine builds to a climax at the final three holes, a solid par 5 bookended by two of the longer and more challenging par 4’s on the course.

I found the collection of par 3’s on the Oconee to be exceptional. My favorite was the fifth, which plays from an elevated tee over the corner of a pond to a skewed green defended fore and aft by bunkers. Three of the seven tees on this hole are placed well to the left, so that the water is not in play for higher handicappers.

On the back nine, Jones built a superb pair of yin-yang par 3’s. The 13^th has one of the largest bunkers I’ve ever seen pushed up to the front of the perched green, while the 15^th, set on a natural peninsula, is blessed and cursed by an abundance of water, with inlets of Lake Oconee in play in front of and behind the green.

Guests of The Ritz-Carlton Lodge have a pretty sweet deal. The Oconee Course is their special, dedicated playground. Listen up,  you hotel guests who love the game but play infrequently: the key to enjoyment is selecting the correct set of tees for your ability level. There’s a “hard par, easy bogey” dynamic at work on the Oconee, a concept borrowed by Rees from his dad, Robert Trent Jones.

Rees gets the last word on this beautiful layout. “We have uncovered a dramatic golf course without changing a lot of what we found when we got here,” he said when work was completed in 2002. Nips and tucks were made, and a few rocky watercourses were created to spice up a few fairways, but from start to finish the Oconee Course plants a big wet kiss on Mother Nature.

There was crack-of-dawn golf again today. They don’t call it Golf Road Warriors for nothing. I’m not going to dwell for one moment on the state of my game, except to say that if my session at the Golf Academy doesn’t pan out on Wednesday, I’m renewing my tennis permit when I get home.

I’m glad that’s out of the way. Now I can talk about the National Course, which is fabulous.  I have seen or played dozens of Tom Fazio-designed courses throughout the Southeast. Tom has a strong aesthetic. His courses are beautiful. His layouts designed to support real estate developments are especially attractive. They have to be. I believe many were specifically designed to look good in brochures. The eye candy factor is always present in Fazio’s work. What is often lacking is what seasoned golfers want: A good tussle and plenty of variety. Hold the gingerbread, give me a second helping of shot value!

What a pleasant surprise to discover that the National cannot be lumped into the majority of Fazio’s Sun Belt output. The design of the community’s 27-hole layout—I played the Cove and Bluff nines—is defined by the rolling terrain, the strategic bunkering, the cleverly placed water features. I simply could not wait to get to the next tee to see what was next. The beauty here is natural—tall pines and hardwoods, an understory of flowering dogwoods and lovely long views of Lake Oconee.

As for the golf holes, they’re sturdy enough, depending on the tees you play, but very fair. The greens, surfaced in bentgrass, are superb—firm and fast. As is true throughout Reynolds Plantation, the rough is mowed low, so that golfers are spared the ignominy of searching for stray shots.

Fazio isn’t known for his lay-of-the-land courses, but I’m guessing he realized very quickly that it was best to let Nature take the lead on this exceptional parcel of land. With its 60-foot elevation change, its chirping birds and gurgling brooks and most of all its array of risk/reward options, the National is a knock-out.

So much for my land report. Now let’s turn to the lake. Lake Oconee is one of the most productive bass fisheries in Georgia.  How do I know this? Because local fishing guide Norris Edge, who took me and photographer David Whyte fishing this afternoon, said so. He backed it up by taking us in his high-powered bass boat to shady coves, where I was instructed to cast my weighted rubber worm to likely spots.

Fishing is a leisurely pastime. There’s time to talk, time to admire the sparkling surface of the water, the budding trees, the beautiful homes on shore. But a conversation can end abruptly when a fish strikes. Not a 12- or 14-inch bass—we got a couple of those—but a whopping 7-pound largemouth bass that Norris hooked and brought to the boat.

You could have fit a softball into this fish’s mouth. It was that large and round.

Norris insisted on throwing it back. “I don’t want to eat what’s feeding me,” said the wise old guide in his inimitable Georgia twang.

Norris should go to Hollywood and play himself. And Tom Fazio should revisit the National at Reynolds Plantation if he ever needs a reminder to see how it’s done.

I’m guessing the Landing is well-liked by an avid, hard-core segment of the membership, for this reason: It’s tough, unyielding and will punish the wayward. The better player will always prevail at The Landing, a Bob Cupp design formerly known as Port Armour. Bulkheaded corners of Lake Oconee must be crossed at several points on the front nine. The bunkers are well-positioned. Some of them, like the deep trench fronting the green at the par-3 17^th, are very penal. The right of punishment, as Bernard Darwin once said, should be reserved for a higher authority. The longer, more wooded back nine has one hole, the 15^th, with a blind water hazard at the bottom of a hill, an architectural no-no. The greens are very swift and heavily contoured in places. Get above the hole on a few of the greens, and you’ll be asking your fellow warriors, as I did, to kindly lie down behind the hole to impede the progress of your ball.

Broken but unbowed, I go forward guardedly optimistic that things will go better today than yesterday. I’m hoping I won’t need, as I could have used yesterday, a canoe, a camel, a priest (or rabbi) and a tourniquet to survive the National.

How excited am I to be packing for my first Golf Road Warriors adventure? Let me put it this way. I made my first and only trip to Reynolds Plantation exactly 20 years ago. Back then, there were only two courses on site at the far end of Linger Longer Road in sleepy Greensboro, Ga. Needless to say, the Ritz-Carlton Lodge had yet to be built. (The small media contingent on hand was asked to camp along the shores of Lake Oconee. We got free marshmallows. Just kidding!).

Short on time, I drove the resort community’s original venue, the Plantation Course, a pleasant, user-friendly design by Bob Cupp, saving myself for the property’s stellar newcomer, Great Waters. I played the course with Jim Lipe, a senior design associate with Jack Nicklaus. During the round, he pointed out every nuance of the routing, called attention to every feature. After getting pummeled for years by Jack’s penal, heavily mounded designs throughout the Sun Belt, I was floored by the quality of the understated, lay-of-the-land design at Great Waters.

Handed an exceptional parcel of land, Nicklaus built a truly spectacular course, but one that does not bend over backwards for dramatic effect. Half the holes at Great Waters flank the shores of Lake Oconee, a giant inkblot of water covering more than 19,000 acres. Jack could have fit in more holes along the shore, but chose not to. Happily, forced carries are rare at Great Waters. Most of the water is parallel to the line of play. This is, after all, a resort course. You’re supposed to have fun.

With Lipe, an ace, at my side (Jim played on LSU’s golf team), I used the same ball for all 18 holes and broke 90 from the blue tees. Pretty good for a New York City-based player whose practice was confined to hitting furtive half-wedge shots on a dog patch in Central Park at dusk.

The beautiful lakeside 11th hole at Great Waters

I can still remember a few of the holes on the front nine at Great Waters, which runs inland through a pine forest and brings a man-made creek into play at four holes. The peninsular back nine, the one everyone talks about, circulates players from one lake cove to the next. To my mind, the incoming nine at Great Waters offers the most pleasant and memorable stretch of lakeside golf in the nation. (By contrast, Whistling Straits is memorable but not pleasant).

What I most liked about Great Waters were the tee placements. The back tees were designed to rivet a good player’s attention—Jack has yet to build a cream puff for anyone–but multiple sets of forward markers give everyone (including women) a more-than-fighting chance to succeed. For me, Great Waters signaled a new direction for Jack as an architect. This is also the course that put Reynolds Plantation on the golf map and paved the way for additional courses at the development.

Now comes word that Great Waters was totally renovated two years ago. Greens and bunkers have been restored to their original shapes and sizes. The putting surfaces have been converted from bentgrass to Miniverde Bermudagrass, an ideal choice for this climate.

While my game isn’t as tidy as it was in 1992, and while I’ll probably move up to the white tees on this trip, I can’t wait to renew acquaintance with one of my favorite Nicklaus-designed courses anywhere.

First, a little background. The man entrusted with the job of designing the layouts was Jack Nicklaus, who once confided that while he was very proud of his design career, he regretted not having built more courses the average person had access to and could afford to play. When the opportunity arose, Jack jumped at the chance to build a chain of low-cost, public-access venues within the Tennessee State Park system.

The trail’s name, The Bear Trace, was formed by combining Jack’s nickname, the Golden Bear, with the Natchez Trace, a historic byway that originates in Tennessee and was used by pioneers in the late 1700’s. With a handful of courses opened between 1998 – 2001, The Bear Trace has boosted the state’s appeal as a golf destination, though it has not had the impact of Alabama’s Robert Trent Jones Golf Trail.

One of my favorite venues on Tennessee’s golf trail, which I fully explored by driving from Knoxville to Memphis in 1999, is The Bear Trace at Harrison Bay.

Harrison Bay is one of the best-groomed courses on The Bear Trace

Located on the outskirts of Chattanooga, the course is routed along the shores of Chickamauga Reservoir, a body of water developed by the Tennessee Valley Authority in the 1930s. A haven for campers, boaters and fishermen, the site was characterized as the state’s “best natural piece of land for a golf course” by the Nicklaus design team before ground was broken. Seven of the 18 holes on this brawny 7,111-yard course skirt the shoreline of the lake, the holes unfolding on gently rolling terrain. A second-growth forest of pines and oaks defines the perimeter of each hole. And while water touches 12 of the fairways, there is no sense of claustrophobia at Harrison Bay. In typical Nicklaus fashion, there is ample room to hit safely off the tee.

There was only one fly in the ointment at a facility where the weekday green fee for walkers tops out at $32. Dating back to 2003, the layout’s large, subtly contoured bentgrass greens suffered one agronomic setback after another

Enter Paul L. Carter, who recently received the 2011 TurfNet Superintendent of the Year Award. Carter, who’s been on the job at Harrison Bay for 10 years, had watched with dismay while the bentgrass greens went belly up in the Chattanooga heat every summer. He has successfully rebuilt the greens and regrassed them with Champion ultradwarf Bermudagrass, a suitable varietal for the climate. The changeover also reduced the facility’s chemical use and significantly lowered the maintenance budget.

In a clear indication that a proactive superintendent can spell the difference, especially at a public facility within a state park, Carter rebuilt bunkers, improved drainage and converted 40 acres of out-of-play areas to native grasses, which reduced water use while providing more wildlife habitat. Under Carter’s watch, Harrison Bay has installed 45 nesting houses, introduced 218 plants native to Tennessee and renovated the chemical storage facility. Carter also led the effort to obtain sanctuary status for Harrison Bay, which has been recognized for environmental stewardship by Audubon International.

The course starts mildly, its first two fairways wide, beckoning and unmarked by bunkers. The routing comes alive at the fourth, a gorgeous 184-yard par 3 that plays to a green perched 10 feet above the red clay shores of the lake, its right side defended by two deep bunkers. The rest of the front nine plays nip-and-tuck with the lakeshore, cozying up to coves where fisherman sit offshore in their boats, casting for bass.

The slightly shorter back nine at Harrison Bay seems benign at first, but the in-your-face par-3 14th throws down the gauntlet. Only a high-flying shot will carry a corner of the lake that sits between tee and green, although there is a generous bail-out area to the right of the green. The layout boasts a strong trio of holes at the finish, a pair of sturdy par 4’s wrapped around a double-dogleg par 5ive at the 17th. The home hole is a dandy: the target off the tee is a hogback fairway that tumbles downhill to the prettiest setting on the course, the reservoir shimmering to the left and behind the green. Slotted into a hill above the green is the log cabin clubhouse duplicated at all The Bear Trace facilities. With a healthy stand of grass on the greens, the view from the clubhouse porch is quite a bit more pleasant these days.

After the round, be sure to explore the city’s Bluff View Art District. Tucked neatly atop tall stone cliffs high above the Tennessee River, the district is a blend of al fresco trattorias, sculpture gardens and art galleries. There’s even a bocce court and terrace clinging to the bluff.