The First Time I Ever Folfed

In the summer of 1990, fresh out of high school and before college, I worked for TW Services in Yellowstone National Park. I worked at Lake Lodge, on Lake Yellowstone. I have always thought that if I ever get to a place in life where I don't know what to do, or where to go, I'll go back there. Lots of great people of all ages (mostly young, though). It was like college, you lived in dorms and ate in a commissary, but you didn't have to study or go to class. Lots of hiking, card games, hanging out, etc. I made some regrettable but not life-altering decisions at this time, but it's turned out okay. My brother, who now works pretty closely with Wolfgang Puck, started working in Yellowstone in 1988, the year of the "Let 'Er Burn" fires. Turns out, that policy worked pretty well, it's beautiful now. Yellowstone park is a central theme in my life. The best Montana windsurfing lake is just above the Gardner entrance and I loved and learned and worked (as a cook) there. It's also the first place I played disc golf.

At the end of the season, those who were still there helped close. This is a sad time... most of the new friends moved home to start college (my college was still on quarters at the time and didn't start for a month after most). Each place in the park except Old Faithful was closed in the winter, and Old Faithful was on half-staff with a smaller kitchen. Anyway, the day we finished closing the Lodge kitchen we took some of those lids from five gallon buckets and one guy, the Store Keeper (I was a cook three days a week and Assistant Store Keeper the other two days... we ordered the food) told us how to play and we safaried the long, open lodge... "Exit sign, par 3," "Wooden Indian statue, par 4," etc. It was fun.

Lake Lodge is near Lake Hotel. The Hotel was a nice place with a 4 star dining room. The Lodge was the Motel Six to the Hotel's Marriot. The Hotel had the post office and the Lodge was about a half-mile away. I went to check my mail one day. There were bison everywhere. Bison spook if you are near, but none were really that close. I was walking across an open field near the parking lot -- this is like a city mall area now, folks -- when I walk between two saplings and ten feet later hear a snap. I looked back to see a huge bison standing over the tree. I backed off, scared, and went into the post office. After I came out, a German tourist explained to me in horror of how he was getting into his car, spooked this nearby bison and it charged me, changing course at the last minute to take out the tree instead of me. This dude was wide-eyed. I avoid bison.

Two months later, playing folf, the leader of our small group says "outside of door frame, par 3." We had to shoot from inside, through an open door and then try to make the comeback shot above the door (a general area, nothing specific). Well, this dude, the Head Storekeeper, overplays his "drive" and lands it six feet from a grazing bison (these things were like cows on a ranch, just grazing anywhere they wanted). Against my advice, he not only goes out to retrieve the shot, but stands there and nails the "putt" with a bison only feet away. Ken Climo, eat your heart out. It wasn't a grizzly bear, but if you don't think a bison is big and intimidating, you are wrong.

That was my first time playing, though it was a couple years later before I played "for real." One of my favorite things to do now is to go to an open field and practice. On vacation recently, I visited a park I used to live nearby and realized I used to practice back then, but I didn't have any clue what I was doing (other than almost beaning people picnicking there). Learning is so much easier now, with the Internet.