I’ve been finding golf balls on my property. For those of you who live along a Flying L fairway that may not be odd. (Or it might not have been odd back when golf balls were flying around out there. It’ll be nice when you have that problem again. But I digress.)
Anyway, finding golf balls on my property is odd. I live on 8 acres on a heavily wooded hill nowhere near a golf course. I found the first balls near my garage and carport. The most likely explanation was a few practice pitch shots got away from the neighbor behind us and I was fine with that. I live where I do so I can do pretty much what I please on my land and I extend that same courtesy to my not-so-close neighbors. As long as the occasional stray shot doesn’t hit anything (or me) I’m good.
But yesterday I discovered something new. I wandered into the woods at the base of our property and found 4 balls in a surprising place. We don’t mow or otherwise mess with the woods down there, as the photo shows. I checked with my laser, and I figure someone had to launch something at least 120 yards to get a ball there, maybe 150 or more, depending on where they were hitting from. And the shot had to get up fast. Trees ring our property and I can’t see any clear pathways for the shot to launch through unless you’re hitting one of those “Phil doesn’t tell Bones about the plan” shots. The more you back up to clear the trees, the longer and more impressive the shot becomes. I suppose the balls could be hit from downhill somewhere, but that makes the shot even more heroic.
So now I’m puzzled. Where is my mystery golfer’s tee box? And what club launches those shots high and deep into my woods? I guess I could ask the next time I see my neighbor, but that happens about once every 10 years. His horses and burros might know, but they aren’t talking. I’ll keep everyone up to date on this developing mystery.
Charlie, years and years ago we could buy a sleeve of golf balls for mere pennies from Heaven. But these days a sleeve would cost a Little Red Wagon full. So, as most who read your posts, we are all very blessed to live in the Hill Country of Texas. Golf balls are the new extraordinary blessings from heaven.
I fondly remember those days of an affordable sleeve of balls and jars of quarter and dime found balls on the pro shop counter. But even back then I was scrounging mine from the woods along the shores of Buffalo Bayou. Lakeside Country Club (I think I have that name right) had a par 3 hole bordering the Bayou and I fed my growing golf habit there. The hike was longer than I have to take on my property these days, but the balls were more plentiful.
Hey Charlie,
If you don’t want them I could use some golf balls. You know how bad I am playing. As far as where they are coming from have you considered Loretta. You know how mischievous the female sex can be. No offense Miss Loretta.
I’ll be glad to hand deliver the balls to you but you might want to reconsider using them. I think they’ve been trained to go deep into the trees. Loretta certainly would enjoy confusing me, but I’m giving her a pass on this one. Towering iron shots aren’t her forte.