Monday, January 21st, 2013

Malibu Golf Club and the Spirit of L.A.

So the check-engine light is still on, but the blinking fuel lights haven't returned since I reconnected that loose hose, which leads me to believe that I fixed the problem and just need my mechanic to reset the system.

Therefore, I didn't take the 500 Benz to the shop this morning after all; I went golfing instead.

Malibu Golf Club has everything going for it except the golf course itself. Captivating canyon landscape diversely dotted with cacti, oaks, and evergreens? Check. Deer and bunnies running around? Check. Sportbikes revving wildly on the winding roads above? Check.

But you're not thinking about any of that after 18 holes. You're just thinking, man, that course beat me up, and not in a good way.

See, it's possible to shoot a terrible score and still appreciate the experience. In fact, I think that's one of the best litmus tests of any golf course: Do I still love you when you destroy me? Great courses are like great opponents—they command respect and admiration, even when they're smashing you to bits.

Malibu G.C., conversely, offers an artless melange of blind tee shots, narrow fairways, awkward hillside lies, ridiculously slippery putting surfaces, gravelly bunkers, and—as a special mid-January treat—sickly splotches of tan grass from tee to green, supplanting the lushness in the photo above (which I actually took last November, before all the rain we got in December, so maybe that's simply what this kind of grass does in the winter, but still).

Cost, by the way: $60 apiece, and it's usually more.

As such, I felt no love for this course while posting a rather generously calculated 89. Nor did my playing partners, Mercedes Mark and JRiz, who entered the round with open minds but were soon cursing the course just like I do whenever I play there. We had idyllic 80-degree weather in a gorgeous setting, and Malibu G.C. did its best to ruin our day.

But there are possibly worse fates than being stuck on a substandard golf course in Malibu for five hours, so we managed to have a good time anyway.

And as I carved my way through Encinal Canyon Road after the round, top down of course, watching the sun slip below an exceptionally clear horizon, Catalina thirty miles distant yet tack-sharp from the Malibu hills...all was magically forgiven. This was sixty bucks' worth and then some. As Mark had put it earlier, "The best thing about this golf course is the drive." I would go further and say that the best thing about L.A. itself is the fact that there are countless drives like this within an hour or two of the city. Pick a canyon road at random, drive toward the ocean at sunset, and you're going to fall in love with this place. There's no way around it. Living here is such a privilege, and if nothing else, every trip to Malibu Golf Club serves up a healthy reminder of that.

Anyhoo, back to earth tomorrow from these spiritual heights with—hopefully—closure on the CEL front, and maybe one of those comparison tests I keep talking about.

posted in: 500Benzlife  Golf Reviews  

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