Stoatin Brae

Sitting all alone at the highest point in Kalamazoo County, Stoatin Brae stands as the crown jewel of one of Michigan’s best kept golf secrets… Gull Lake View Golf Resort. Darl and Lethea Scott broke ground on the first of the resort’s six courses (Gull Lake View West), in 1962. Over the course of the next thirty years, they proceeded to build Gull Lake View East, Stonehenge South, and Stonehedge North just down the road. In 1988, they purchased Bedford Valley in nearby Battle Creek, a championship course that, over the years, has hosted US Open qualifiers and the Michigan Open. But while all of the course designs at Gull Lake View Golf Resort are interesting in their own ways (which we’ll talk about more in later posts), by the early 2000’s golf resorts began largely marketing themselves around the men who were designing their courses. William Mitchell (who designed Bedford Valley) was a well regarded architect in his day! But few of his courses have stood the test of time to the degree necessary for modern golf tourism. On the other hand, one of the most interesting aspects (in my humble opinion) of Gull Lake View as a golf tourism destination is the exact reason it doesn’t fit into the modern golf resort template. Every single course built on the property prior to Stoatin Brae was designed by the Scott family themselves! That might not seem totally ridiculous… and frankly, given the quality of the designs at the resort as a whole, it seems almost impossible that the whole resort was designed by the family themselves. But when you take a second to understand just how large a six-course golf resort really is (there are only four resorts with more courses on-site in the entire country), it suddenly dawns on you just how abnormal it truly is. Just in Michigan, Boyne golf, for example, has courses from Arthur Hills, Robert Trent Jones Sr, and a “best of Donald Ross” course that features recreations of his best designs (which has been recently renovated by Ray Hearn, himself a significant name in Michigan golf). TreeTops in Gaylord features courses from Robert Trent Jones Sr, Rick Smith, and Tom Fazio, while Forest Dunes features Designs from Tom Doak, Tom Weiskopf, and is in the middle of adding a course by Gil Hanse. 

Is all of this necessary background information? Probably, not! But it helps to paint a picture of what Gull Lake View is, and why it holds such a unique and different place in the minds of the American golfer than Bandon, Pinehurst, Streamsong or Sand Valley. There’s an inherent quirkiness to the golf at Gull Lake View, and that’s probably why Stoatin Brae as a concept was so unexpected to the local golf community. 

So in 2014, when Jon Scott approached Tom Doak and Renaissance Design about the idea of creating a course on the property, he was already setting into motion something inherently different to anything else that had been done on the property (and realistically anywhere in the Kalamazoo area). Tom had already committed to designing The Loop at Forest Dunes, and didn’t feel right about simultaneously designing multiple courses in his home state, and so a coalition of architects and designers from Doak’s firm, Renaissance Design, jumped at the opportunity to design something special. Don Placek, Brian Schneider, Eric Iverson and Brian Slawnik (who themselves were, and are, some of the most talented men in golf architecture, having previously worked on courses like Pacific Dunes) set to the task of determining a routing that best utilized the land, and after each creating their own version of the routing, they came to a consensus on the best approach in early 2015. By Spring 2015, ground had been broken, and all but two holes were seeded by October. 

For the true golf nerd (clearly I count myself among them, but if your interest in turf varietals is limited, and I would understand it if it was, feel free to jump down a paragraph… I promise we’ll talk about design soon.), the Stoatin property posed an interesting conundrum from a turf perspective. Due to it’s position functionally on a ridge at the highest point in the county, wind would serve as a primary feature (and defense) of the course. But with the commonality and force of wind that could come into play, and the number of directions it could come from, the landing areas would need to be far more extensive than might be “typical,” and the nature of the course layout (and it’s location on a resort) necessitated a cart-centric approach that could inherently give trouble to links-style turf. So, at the suggestion of their friend Tom Mead, the fairways of the course were seeded with a  mixture of bluegrasses. The turf nerd among us might know that typically up north here in Michigan, the majority of premium course fairways are bentgrass (think Arcadia Bluffs or Forest Dunes), while many “Links-style” courses both here and abroad are some mixture of fescue and bentgrass. The Loop, for example, is a combination of fescue and bent. With that in mind, you might think the move to plant bluegrass fairways an interesting one. Well, frankly, it is. It was also quite brilliant. Fescue famously struggles with foot traffic, and positively detests cart traffic. Additionally, it’s a clumping or bunch type of grass, while bentgrass and bermuda spread via stolons,and bluegrass spreads via rhizomes. Essentially bentgrass, bermuda and bluegrass provide the benefit of self-healing (to a degree), and while bluegrass is certainly the least prolific self-healer of the three, it provides other significant benefits. For one, bermuda is a warm-season grass, so it’s not even a consideration. Bentgrass on the other hand is incredibly costly to maintain, and tends to slowly strangle out its fescue co-habitants, necessitating further costly over-seeding in order to maintain a consistent turf. Last but not least, bluegrass’ hardiness offers one more benefit… It can handle significantly more cart traffic than any of it’s counterparts, which allowed the Renaissance team to design a course that (for the most part) has very few cart paths, and maintains a similar aesthetic to it’s stylistic cousins in Scotland and Ireland. All in all, bluegrass provided a brilliant solution, and allowed the team to seed an absolutely massive playing area affordably.

Ok, but how does it play? The course opens as so many of my favorite courses do, with a handshake. The first fairway is wide, and there’s not much of a trick to it. A small bunker sits short left of the fairway, but is hardly in play. The approach (for all but the longest tee shot) is blind, but fair. The green, like many at Stoatin, is perched on a hill and thus anything short and left will funnel gently off the green into a valley below, while the right edge of the green slopes more severely to the right. A collar just off the right hand side, however, stops anything but a ball with far too much pace from descending the ten or so vertical feet to the cart path.

The second is a long par 3, playing 200 yards or more from every tee box other than the forward tees. A massive hill running down toward the left side of the green is maintained as “second cut,” and a ball hit into it will often meander its way down onto the putting surface. A miss short, will find fairway length grass, while a miss right will often bound off the playing area and out of bounds, or into the heather. Most players seem to play the hole to a front left number, though the pin can sometimes be found much further back, which offers a significantly more considerable challenge. 

The Third

The third hole, I believe, is the first look at the insidious nature of Stoatin’s defense of par. From the longer tees (at Stoatin, either the Blacks 6271 yards, or the Golds, which tip out at 6742 yards), only a particularly long player can carry the bunker on the left (it’s nearly a 260 yard carry from the blacks, or 290 from the golds), and there’s fescue grown up on the right side of the hole to match the bunker, with a gap between them of only around 27 yards (I’ve paced it out before while walking the course, so take my approximation with a grain of salt). Suffice to say, Stoatin is asking its first real “question” and demanding an answer. Laying it up short of the bunker to the fat part of the fairway leaves a 190 yard or longer approach into the green, which is a considerable shot into a par 4 to begin with! Take into account the wind on any given day, and it can play a staggering 230 on approach. Partner that with a false front that repels anything short of the center of the green, and a pot bunker deep enough to make a Scotsman homesick on both the front left AND right side of the green, and you can start to patch together the question Stoatin (at it’s best) is asking. Can you control your distances? Can you control your trajectory? Are you smart enough to know when to stay short of trouble, and skilled enough to make par without taking it on? 

The fourth hole feels like a continuation of the tension built up by the third, and from the back tees, plays as a cheeky risk/reward. Right around 260 from the blacks (and 300 from the golds), the fairway tightens to a devilish 35 yards. On the right stands a deep fairway bunker (the sort you chip sideways out of at best). You'd need to carry the ball 280 or 320 from the tips to clear it, and while I've played with a number of golfers who can handle the former, the latter is intimidating for a tour pro. Most golfers lay the ball up short of the bunker and face a 180 yard shot into the green, which is perched up on a hill and features another false front. Playing back, the bomber enjoys the challenge, and the shorter player takes pleasure in taking on the challenge of the approach! Par is birdie, and you're buckling in. But the fourth hole is also where Stoatin (at its worst) begins to show up. The golfer accustomed to playing what I would describe as the “members” tees, will quickly notice Stoatin’s greatest flaw… it's pretty obviously missing a tee box. The carry number for the bunker from the greens is a staggeringly short 160 yards! Even more, the fairway doesn't pinch again, and there really isn't a hazard further up the fairway to sneak up on you. The bunker up the right plays 50 yards off the left rough, and the slope of the hill leading up to the green would stop even an absolutely mashed drive from making its way up to the left bunker. Frankly, the sort of player who is playing up at these tees has literally zero reason not to pull out driver, and in this golfer’s humble opinion, that's seriously a shame. In my first article here for Links and Parkland, I stated my thesis on what makes a good golf course. If you haven't read that, I certainly think it's worth a read (but then again, I wrote it). But the key point I made there is that good golf courses ask questions and demand answers. So I can't help but ask myself what question is even being asked of me on the fourth tee if I play from up here? It seems comical to me that there isn't a tee mix with a 20-210 carry for that bunker. Maybe the team hated the idea of asking the shorter golfer to lay up and hit a 180+ approach on back to back holes? But even then, a tee box 40ish yards further back would at least make the golfer “feel” a similar sense of accomplishment when carrying the bunker. At this point, it probably seems like I dislike the hole! In all honesty, it's the opposite, and I think that's why I'm so frustrated. It's a brilliant hole, and we've simply robbed the shorter golfer of the opportunity to enjoy it to the same extent, and I think that's a shame. 

The fifth hole is more of a return to form. The renaissance team starts to bring in hints of one of Stoatin’s best design features… sight lines. The best line on the hole from just about every tee box is straight over the left bunker. Standing on that tee box, however, the line feels absolutely insane. From the tips it's something like 250 yards, while from the blacks it's about 210 and from the greens it's 190. I guess if I'm going to lambaste them for the tee boxes on the fourth, I think it's only fair to give them praise for the perfection of the tee shots on the fifth. The approach, again, is the hole’s greatest defense of par. A false front, a false side that funnels to two bunkers along the right side, and a steep drop off the back, leaves only pin high and left as a safe bailout. This is the sort of green where you're sometimes stuck hitting at a totally different quadrant of the green than the pin and figuring it out later, all in all, a pleasure. 

An Enigma

The sixth begins a run of holes that I've found to be the most controversial with golfers I've played with, and I think it’s perhaps time to speak on the inherent design limitation the architects faced. Stoatin sits on about 130 acres, but it’s actually fairly “thin.” Toward the back of the property, however, there’s a 45 acre section that can only be described as gorgeous. The Renaissance team worked on several routing options that might incorporate some of that into the front nine, but playing the course even once makes it obvious that it would have been nearly impossible. What you’re left with is a bit of an enigma of a course. Six plays across the far side of the property, and out of bounds looms left. A bunker sits high up on a hill to the right of the fairway, but it’s 411 yards from the tips and 293 from the greens… hardly a threat from the tee. But with out of bounds left, many players find themselves aiming a bit right, and putting the bunker into play on their second shot. If you find yourself in the right rough, it’s oddly forgiving, but the top lip of that bunker now likely sits 20+ above your head, and if nothing else, it forces you to hit a good shot. Laying up will leave you perched on a hill with a valley between you and the hole, while taking a shot at the green in two is tricky. The green is thin front to back, and perched way up on a hill at the edge of the valley. The bunker short left is incredibly penal, and if the greens are playing hard I’ve never seen someone hold it from 200 yards out or more. 

Seven furthers both the narrative that the front is a bit more boring than the back, and the narrative that there’s clearly a missing tee box at Stoatin. At around a 200 yard par 3 from both the Tips and Blacks, the Greens move you up to… 125 yards? I can’t help but ask “why?” while simultaneously feeling like a bit of enjoyment was sacrificed on the altar of a specific total yardage.

A critic might say that Eight is an incredibly similar hole to four, only this time with a bunker green-side to the right, and a thinner, longer green. I’ve never found myself complaining, but I have found myself worried I’ve accidentally found my way back to the fourth tee. One incredibly redeeming quality of eight, however, is the location of the green tee box! 205 yards are required to carry the bunker on this occasion, and while the average golfer might not think that’s a challenge, I think the average golfer likely doesn’t have a realistic grasp on their carry number with driver in the first place. If I were asked to argue the positives of the hole (an odd thing to be asked given that I quite like the hole), I think the approach plays very differently than the fourth. The left side this time is “false,” as is the right, and in case I’ve rambled so long that you’ve forgotten, there’s a bunker there. If you’re playing for angles, the easiest approach requires a truly brave and skilled shot, right over the dead center of the bunker, and away from the breadth of the fairway to the left. 

Nine is… well nine is long. 566 from the tips, and 538 from the greens, while teeing into an upslope makes it play even longer. The bunker short right is more or less in play for everyone, and Renaissance pulled out all the stops in optical illusion. The fairway appears to slant to the left off the tee, and then back to the right after the short right bunker, when in reality the hole is dead straight. I would be remiss not to mention that a bare minimum of your first two shots on the hole are taken without a peak at the pin, or any real way to determine the location of the green itself, but when you finally crest the hill, you’ll catch your first glimpse of one of my favorite greens on the course. A steep backstop will funnel anything long (within reason) back onto the playing surface, and anything short right will slide off to a collection area, but the slopes line up so that it’s also one of the only holes that can be truly approached from the ground, and I’ve certainly rolled my fair share of shots up onto the putting surface from short and left. 

Halfway trough the round, you’ll find yourself far enough out onto the property that a return to the clubhouse for a beer, or a hard seltzer as my generation of golfer seems to prefer, isn’t really achievable, and the Gull Lake View team have solved this in an incredibly fun way. Built into the side of a hill just off the 9th green is “The Bunker,” a cute halfway house with drinks and bathrooms and often something freshly grilled… that is, when it’s open. I’m not typically the type to bemoan a course for little things, but. I’ve played Stoatin Brae four times this year as I prepared to write this review, and not a single time was the halfway house staffed. It’s the sort of thing a course that’s charging a tenner might be able to get away with, but for $60-$100 a round, finding yourself so far away from the clubhouse you can’t return, and suddenly incapable of buying so much as a gatorade is at the bare minimum, disappointing.

The Tenth

But the injustice of a closed halfway house is soon forgotten as you crest the hill to the tenth green and glimpse the hole laid out in front of you. One of the greatest qualities of a great links course is it’s ability to feel like it’s perhaps always been there, and the architect simply walked along the property one day and discovered it. Well, ten begins a run of holes that harken back to the Links, and Golden eras of golf course architecture, when bulldozers didn’t exist to move earth, and an architect was left to find truly exceptional holes by walking the land (or perhaps, with the benefit of a topographical map). Like many of the best holes at Stoatin, again, optical illusion comes into play off the tee. At it’s widest, about ninety-five yards from the center of the green, the fairway is an astonishing 60 yards wide. Standing on the tee, however, a massive swale up the left hand side blocks all view of the left side of the fairway, and gives the appearance that the fairway is only 30 yards wide, and tightens toward the central pot bunker in the fairway. The green is deep, but thin, with a false right front edge that feeds into two gnarly bunkers, and a backstop at the far end, so you’re faced with a nice mental test. After all, by far the best line requires starting the ball over the swale, and likely not seeing it again until you drive up around the corner, but every ounce of your body is telling you to aim right. A well placed shot will leave you a 110 to 85 yard shot with plenty of space to stop the ball, while a ball played from the right side of the fairway will be below your feet, and necessitates carrying two bunkers only to stop a shot with only about eight yards of green before you roll of the back. It’s an exceptional hole, perhaps the best on the whole course, and we’re only getting started on the back nine.