“G-o-o-g-l-e-.-c-o-m, Matt typed. Then, b-e-s-t O-h-i-o g-o-l-f r-e-s-o-r-t-s. A month later, we were standing on a 1st tee in Hubbard, a northeast Ohio town of about 10,000, according to its website, with at least one great grocery store (Giant Eagle!), at least two Waffle Houses just off the interstate into town, and the home to a golf package that includes 70 courses and 25 places to stay. T-h-e-b-e-s-t. The Trail, through its website or a phone call (877-534-6789), coordinates the golf and lodging, and the price depends on where you play and where you stay. I would get in on a Tuesday night, Matt the next afternoon, we would play 54 holes over two days and leave Friday. I left the Upper West Side of Manhattan at around 11, listened to a Pennsylvania radio potpourri of Queen, Huey Lewis and Eurythmics, and turned into the “Tod Mansion” at around 5. The Tod had multiple bedrooms named after golfers (I, naturally, stayed in the downstairs Ben Hogan room, and Matt, naturally, in the upstairs Jack Nicklaus room), an outdoor grilling area, an outdoor porch and a downstairs game room – all to ourselves. We were kings, and, yes, there was also a room named after Arnie. Wednesday, we played Pine Lakes, a 6,612-yarder from-the-tips par-72. Fall golf at its finest. Lots of red and brown trees. Lots of birds flying south. A few beers. A few pars. Afterward, we grilled 30 wings on our outdoor grill. In our mansion. Thursday, we started at Oak Tree Golf Club in West Middlesex, PA, a 6,658-yarder-from-the-tips par-71. Fall morning golf at its finest. We teed off at 9, but we were the first car in the parking lot, the first to roll Titleists through the morning dew and likely the first to crack open a beer. (A coffee stout – we got our morning coffee in.) A few traps. A few doglegs. Lots of shot making required. We played our second 18 at Reserve Run Golf Course in Poland, Ohio, a 6,161-yard par-70. Fall afternoon golf at its finest. Come for the 18, which includes a terrific two-hole stretch along a winding river on the front nine. Stay for the stories from the course’s owner, who was sitting in the clubhouse when we checked in. Matt told him that he lived in Milwaukee. He had a Milwaukee story. I told him that I lived in New York. He had a New York story.
Afterward, we stopped at Giant Eagle again (great meat department!), then grilled some steaks on our outdoor grill. In our mansion. Friday. Time to leave. And a pact that we would annually come back to Hubbard, a northeast Ohio town named after Nehemiah Hubbard, according to its website,with at least one great grocery store (Giant Eagle!), a mansion that can accommodate 20 or two, and at least three fall-golf-at-its-finest golf courses. T-h-e-b-e-s-t.”
Feature in Golf.com By Nick Piatowski | October 26, 2020
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