Never let it be said that yearbook camp is for geeks. I’ve been at one in Gettysburg for two days now, and I can affirm that I am stronger, faster, and better-looking than when I arrived. Yes, you can pretend that Photoshop is to blame, but we all know the truth. Anyway, on to today’s blog entry. Near Gettysburg (about 30 miles west) is the oasis of Penn National, a 36-hole retreat in the mountains of south-east-central Pennsylvania. I know that Baltimore is close, and that Remember The Titans was filmed nearby, but that’s about it.

Penn National boasts two courses. The first was designed in 1968 by Ed Ault, and is currently named the Founders’ Course. I guess we have T.K. Nitterhouse, the founder, to thank for that. Thanks, T.K.! I played and photographed this little honey today, and enjoyed playing a course nearly as old as I. The Founders course tops out at 6981, but really demands accuracy off the tee. It is a woodland course from top to bottom, playing through alleys of tall trees whose names escape me. The nice thing about this course is, at least once per hole, you feel as though you are hitting downhill. Even the uphill shots seem to descend in one form or fashion. The course begins gently, with brief par four and five holes, before passing through a tunnel unlike any I’ve seen before. It reminded me of an MRI I once had…no room. Yes, a cart can fit, but that’s all. If, like I do, you dangle your left leg out the side of the cart while driving, PULL IT IN!

A series of picturesque woodland holes follow, each requiring shots over or around sanded bunkers. When you reach the seventh, head to the back tees for a crack at a 615 yard hole. Yes, it plays downhill, but requires two Sunday Smites to get within the 150-yard poles. Eight is a fabulously long and uphill par four (driver-4 Iron for me), while nine plays 204 yards (another 4 Iron) to a wide, flower-ringed green. As much as you enjoy the front nine, you’ll remember the back nine more, however.

After a few gentle openers, the real work begins on 14. This roller-coaster par five of 1653 feet (that’s 551 yards) plays straight out to a level drive zone, then drops down and out to the right, descending over two hillocks before rising gently to an elevated green. If you close your eyes and hit the gas (don’t really do this), you’ll be on the Silver Comet, or whatever Russian Mountain you have nearby.

Two more par fours bring you to number seventeen, simply the prettiest par three I have seen in a while. A five-iron covered the 185 yards for me, but what you have is a series of tee decks, a lake that begins along the 16th fairway, a stone wall between lake and land, and a slope-away green protected by a seeing-eye bunker in front. After all that, I still had just fifteen feet for birdie, but the old gal failed me, and I settled for par.

The best part of yearbook camp is, it lasts two more days. Guess where I’ll be Tuesday night? You’ve got it…at the Iron Forge course at Penn National. See you back here in a day or so.

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