The Royal North Devon Golf Club, done your way since 1864 in, you guessed it, Devonshire, England. Also known in the modern era as ‘Who you callin’ a Westward Ho!’ and wholeheartedly praised by those meandering off the beaten golf tracks of the United Kingdom. This course is all about the sport in its purest sense, with historic and memorialized sleeper bunkers happily cohabiting with fresh animal scrapes, or ‘lil bunkers that could.’ The ground is very much common in the sense that strolling villagers and their grazing beasts gladly share the windy plain with golfers of the highest esteem, but uncommon in its rumpled and rugged natural layout.
The course has nuances, to be certain. A tee shot directly over a semi-feral horse herd perhaps, or a pitch that clips some of the fencing around the greens designed to keep the sheep clear. Maybe you run into Betty (pictured), a pleasant local octogenarian that accompanied me for six holes with six clubs. Or maybe your golf bag gets swallowed up along with your wayward iron shot by the famous Great Rushes that hazard the middle of the links. Whatever your unique endeavor might be at Westward Ho!, you will have a trip to remember with eighteen holes at this graceful, honest, and ageless gem.
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