Charm City Courses: Clifton Park

Finally played Clifton Park on Saturday. I was a little apprehensive, after hearing about Dodi’s experience playing there at twilight and getting harassed by trespassing locals from the surrounding Northeast Baltimore neighborhood. My hubby said he used to play Clifton Park often when he lived in the city and once had his golf cart hijacked by some teenage boys, but he said 99% of the time, his rounds passed without incident. Still, he advised me to leave my purse at home just to have one less thing to worry about.  

As we drove into the golf course parking lot encircled by chain link fence adorned with a tiara of concertina wire, I began to wonder what the day would bring. Fortunately, our playing partners were Jen and her hubby Todd, two of the funniest Baltimoreans I know. So whatever happened, at least there would be laughter involved.

Clifton Park is Baltimore’s first public golf course and was built in 1915 on the grounds of the summer estate of Johns Hopkins, the guy they named that famous hospital and university after. In fact, Hopkins was originally going to build the hospital on the Clifton Park site, but it was too far from the center of the city.

The grounds are well-kept for a city course. It has a new short game practice area put to regular use by the First Tee program. The putting greens are immaculate, the fairways are nicely trimmed, and the rough is tall enough to hide a ball from even the keenest eyes. The tall grass also has the stickiness of Velcro and attracts plenty of litter, leading to repetitive fairway chatter: “Is that my ball?” “No, it’s a piece of trash.” “Is that a ball?” “No, it’s a plastic wrapper.” "What about that?" "That's a leaf."

Weather-wise, it was in the mid-80s and a bright, sunny day. Perfect for golf, but after a few holes, I felt that familiar pounding feeling in my head that would soon blossom into a full-blown migraine. I also had this wicked pull hook I couldn’t shake, and the rolling fairways made it hard to find a level. But the company was fun and I did snap some nice pictures:

Looking back at the clubhouse from the end of the first hole fairway, the Baltimore city skyline looms in the distance.

Mother’s Garden was built in 1926 at Clifton Park, as a shrine to all of Baltimore’s mothers. It has undergone restoration and preservation efforts over the years.

A wide fairway blocked by a hedge running the width of it led Jen to quip, "This is kind of an equestrian layout." Fortunately, we were all able to get our balls to jump over it.

Todd noticed the grey stone ornaments sticking up from an out of bounds area and said, "There's a bunch of tombstones over there!" which led me to joke, "You mean someone left some frozen pizzas out here?"

The panoramic view of the skyline from the tee ground of the 18th. A day's work is almost done.

Safety-wise, we had little to worry about that day. Two rangers rode around all day long, keeping an eye on us tourists from the suburbs. There were a couple of holes where the fairways were bordered by rowhouses, and I could see how the proximity tempted kids from the neighborhood to hop the fence on a regular basis. But today, they were elsewhere, and except for having a nonconsensual religious service forced upon us by way of loudspeaker from a parked van, there were no violations against us.

Would I play there again? I would never say never. But next time I need to bring more water so I don’t get a dehydration headache. And my husband said I should also bring a parasol.