Haymaker Hill...or "This way to my memorial site."

 The extremely steep climb from the 13th green to the 14th tee at Leslie Park Golf Course. (photo by Lon Horwedel)

Have you played Leslie Park Golf Course in Ann Arbor lately? If you haven't, you should. 

Recently, it was named the best municipal golf course in the state of Michigan by Golf Digest. Some of that, I suppose, comes from the marketing push the city has put into the course the past two years and certainly, there are more bells and whistles at the course than in year's past. 

Things like clubhouse renovations, new patio furniture, new mowers, a new director of golf and a new greenskeeper, roofs on the carts, lower rates, and, of course, a liquor license, have driven the amount of play at the course well beyond what it saw just a few years ago.

But what about the actual course?

Leslie Park, despite all its new features, is still the same great golf course it's always been. You owe it to yourself to play there before the summer is over, if, for no other reason, than to visit my future burial site.

Not that I've made it official or anything, but in recent years I've noticed that Leslie Park has become sort of a memorial ground as well as a great golf course. The flag pole just outside the clubhouse started the recent trend of memorializing local folk who, like me, found Leslie Park to be just about the closest thing to heaven on earth.

On a rock at the base of the pole it says: "In loving memory: Howard C. Gelenius 1928-2001" 

I never met Howard, or at least I don't think I ever met him, but I'm pretty sure, at some point in his life he thought to himself "Boy, when I die I sure wouldn't mind if it were here."

I've had that thought many times while playing at Leslie, but the thought of having a memorial rock plopped on the course in my remembrance is a relatively new idea. 

Memorial #2 at Leslie showed up shortly after the flag pole rock for Mr. Gelenius. One day, while playing the beautiful par-3, 12th hole, I made my usual trek toward the green when I noticed a giant boulder just off the cart path; perfectly placed so it wasn't in play, but impossible to miss, and on the boulder it said: "In memory of Don Yost, a golfer for all seasons, a man for all time."

I'd played golf with Don that prior year late in the fall before he died. I never even knew his last name. I only knew he was an older guy and he liked to walk the course like me. He also played in just about any weather, just like his memorial rock states.

The last few times I played with Don he'd only play what he called the "lower six" at Leslie Park. That being holes No. 1-3 on the front and holes No. 10-12 on the back. Those six holes are relatively flat and close to the clubhouse. Don would only play those holes because he was going through chemo treatments for cancer. I'd heard rumor that he was in his early 80's, but I never really knew for sure. Like most golfers, Don and I only talked about golf or the weather when we were on the course. We crossed paths many times over the years, usually hooking up for a handful of holes. Then he was gone. It wasn't until the rock showed up on No. 12 that I realized why.

It made perfect sense his memorial rock would be on the 12th hole. It is, after all, the final hole of the lower six, if, like Don, you're only playing six holes. For the record, it also happens to be one of my favorite holes on the course.

Last year, memorial number three showed up at Leslie near the 8th tee box. This time Fred Fornaca, a long time ranger at the course, was the recipient. On Fred's rock it simply says: "Fred Fornaca - Starter/Ranger  A true gentleman."

I never knew Fred at all, which is weird since I've spent so much time at the course over the past decade. But I never played in a league or on weekends at Leslie, so I guess it makes sense that our paths wouldn't have crossed.

I guess Fred was in his 80's when he died as well, making Howard C. Gelenius the youngest memorial recipient at 73. I'm only 44, so I probably don't qualify for anything more than pebble at this point. But I do have a plan in place for where I'd like to be memorialized if the folks at Leslie would be so kind as to bestow such an honor on me.

Since I walk all of my rounds, I have a healthy respect for the hill from the 13th green to the 14th tee. There are days when I wonder if I'll ever get to the top without first blowing out an achilles tendon due to the severity of the climb. 

The hill is so steep I always try and make sure I don't have the honors on the 14th tee because it takes me a minute or two for my heart rate to drop below 200 once I've reached the summit. Still, I love the challenge the hill presents and once you do reach the top, it is a rather breathtaking view of darn near the entire course. 

So I'd like my memorial spot, if I should be so lucky, to be placed near the top of the old path going to the old 14th tee box, an alternate route that carts don't take, but many walkers do, since it's a tad gentler slope.

It's a place that always brings me peace, no matter my heart rate, and it's a place that just feels right. One of these days, I fully expect to have a haymaker mid-climb, and keel over dead somewhere on the hill, hopefully near my proposed spot. It's entirely possible I may be there a while before I'm discovered, especially if I roll off the path a bit once I hit the ground and gravity pulls me into the brush. But there's a family of turkey vultures who live in a dead tree near the top of the hill who should clue in a search party, such there be one.

Hopefully, that day is a long way off. So until then I'll say hello to Howard on my way to the first tee, give a shout to Fred when I get a drink of water on eight, and spend a minute or two with Don, my old friend, on No. 12 before I head to my memorial destination a hole and half (and some 200 feet higher above sea level) later.