At some point during every buddies’ golf trip I’ve been on, I have been struck by a moment of profound appreciation mixed with utter disbelief.
How did this group of clowns actually pull it off? How did each of us agree to a plan, find the availability, arrive at the same destination, align on courses and tee times, and share in the experience of doing the thing we love most?
And, more importantly, how soon can we make this happen again?
The vaunted buddies’ trip — and the highly underrated anticipation it inspires — is the most exhilarating experience this sport has to offer mere mortals. It’s also a logistical nightmare.
Little wonder why more and more travel agencies and operators are getting in on the global golf tourism industry that’s expected to grow from $25.7 billion in 2024 to $42.9 billion in 2033.
Those tasked with trip planning know it is ultimately an exercise in diplomacy and coalition building, not consensus. For each person involved, there’s a unique perspective on exactly how the trip should go. Every last decision becomes its own dilemma.
Is all the trouble worth it? Absolutely. But these trips aren’t the only way to bask in the euphoria of golf tourism.
Last month, during the week between Christmas and New Year’s, I experienced a version of golf nirvana I had never considered possible: While coordinating an impromptu golf trip, everyone who planned to go aligned on the destination, the timing, the lodging, the courses, and how the days would be spent, on and off the links.
That’s because everyone was me. And only me.
First, a little context:
— My wife and I are parents to two school-aged boys, ages 9 and 6. “Holiday break” is a misnomer. The time away from school requires more vigilance than usual, including the occasional intervention when arguments devolve into an episode of National Geographic’s “Animal Fight Club.”
— The advertising agency where I work generously closes the last few weeks of each year, giving employees a much-needed reset. My wife, a funeral director, was unable to take time off during what is sadly the busiest period of the year.
— The boys’ grandparents — angels, each of them — are retired and willing to host them from time to time when my wife and I want/need to travel.
For weeks leading up to Holiday Break, I floated to my wife the possibility of finding even just a few days over the holidays to get out of town as a family. Coastal Oregon, South Dakota’s Black Hills, the North Shore of Lake Superior here in Minnesota, anywhere. But such a trip wasn’t in the cards.
Finally, my wife proposed a radical alternative.
“Clearly, you really need to go somewhere,” she said, earnestly. “Why don’t you just go somewhere … alone?”
Planning a buddies’ golf trip with less than a few weeks notice is a fool’s errand, especially during the holiday season. As such, I didn’t for a moment entertain the possibility that any of my friends might also be in a similar position, free to leave town for a few days with their responsibilities tended to. I also had assurance from in-laws they would watch the boys if I were to take a trip, offering my wife a mini vacation of her own.
One perk of planning a last-minute trip is making a high-confidence decision based on the 10-day national weather forecast. Cold and wet weather was expected in many of the predictable destinations I first considered, including the Carolinas, Southern California, Arizona and Florida. Coastal Oregon was getting smacked by gale-force winds and gloom. Only one destination offered mild (mid-50s) weather and no threat of rain: Southwestern Utah.
(Side note: International travel was never on the table. “Last-minute airfare deals” during the holiday season — even Mexico or the Caribbean — aren’t really a thing. Though I was instructed by my wife to be selfish, my penny-pinching instincts hedged toward splurging on golf over airfare.)
So, about a week after my wife originally floated the idea, I took a direct flight from Minneapolis to Las Vegas with nothing but a carry-on bag and my golf clubs in tow. I picked up a rental car and drove two hours northeast on I-15, traversing the violent beauty of Nevada’s Valley of Fire Basin and white-knuckling through Arizona’s Virgin River Gorge before arriving at Sand Hollow Resort in St. George, an oasis enveloped by Mars — like desertscape and Navajo Sandstone formations that date back more than 180 million years.
During the three days that followed — oblivious to the possibility I would eventually capture my experience in writing — I maximized every advantage a solo golf trip offers. And, as it turned out, it was more glorious than I could have imagined.
What follows isn’t an argument against buddies’ trips, but rather the case for solo golf trips for those with limited windows of opportunity, unpredictable schedules, and a desire to call their own shots when they travel. Here are just a few reasons you should strongly consider taking one yourself.
You control the clock
I’ll cop to being the type of golfer who routinely shows up more than an hour early before a tee time, especially if it’s a new course. I like to squeeze in a full driving range session, then familiarize my short game around the greens and bunkers. Too often, this is the most stressful aspect of the buddies’ golf trip — ensuring all comers arrive at the first tee on time, never mind proper warm-up.
I’m also a sucker for a post-round bucket of balls — a polarizing move for which I’ve been heckled more than a few times. (I get it. Why should a 15-handicap behave like Bryson DeChambeau at dusk on a Wednesday before a major, grinding while fully aware the cameras are rolling?) In both cases, there’s no burden to shepherd the slow pokes in the group, nor is there any pressure to make haste to the clubhouse bar when there’s a pull hook you’re trying to correct.
Golf doesn’t have to be the side quest
Beyond golf, St. George is a top-tier destination for outdoor recreation like mountain biking, rock climbing, canyoneering and riding UTVs. Or so I read.
Sure, I could have made time to visit a nearby trailhead to enjoy a majestic hike at sunset, or driven 30 minutes to visit a corner of Zion National Park, or at least wandered into downtown St. George to try the food scene. Instead, my daily agenda was comprised of golf and only golf — and more Chipotle burrito bowls than I care to publicly disclose.
Singles have superpowers
Scheduling a tee time for arrival day is a high-stakes bet that cross-country travel plans won’t include any delays. It’s an especially aggressive play during a holiday travel period.
Fortunately, I arrived in St. George around mid-day (as planned) and was able to snag a last-minute tee time to play the back nine at The Ledges at St. George as a single. Fat chance we could’ve played anywhere were I in need of 2-3 tee times for a larger traveling group — assuming they even wanted to add more golf to the agenda.
No explanations needed
It’s one thing to add golf to the trip. It might be even more controversial to pare down when that little voice is telling you a little less golf would be OK. You don’t have to walk the line between an overpacked schedule and too much down time or navigate how others feel about a change in plans. If for any reason you want to cancel a tee time, no excuse necessary.
The people you meet might surprise you
I get it: Playing with unfamiliar partners can be awkward, and in many ways make it more challenging to play well. Golf is hard enough without the social element. But this is the part where I tell you one of the highlights of a solo golf trip might just be the people you meet along the way.
While I was able to manage two nine-hole rounds on my own, I was paired with a couple of Torontonians, Anthony and Antonio, during my round at The Champion Course at Sand Hollow. Lifelong friends going on 35 years, the middle-aged men were kicking off a much more ambitious golf trip: 10 courses spanning three states.
After a round filled with friendly banter and more than a few canyon- and cactus-bound golf balls, Antonio politely shared a dozen or so photos and videos he’d taken with the pair of Ray-Ban Meta AI sunglasses he’d been wearing. They are mementos that in the moment eased the sting of a scorecard laden with double bogeys.
For all the good times and lore they provide, buddies’ trips are and always will be the pinnacle golf experience. But a solo golf trip offers something different and, at this stage of life, just as valuable: freedom. Freedom from logistics, from compromise, from waiting on the notoriously late friend in the group for whom a tee time can never be made late enough.
It just may be the best way to experience the game you love is to take it in somewhere new.
