Classic Courses: Pine Valley Golf Club

© L.C. Lambrecht
Pine Valley, New Jersey
By Pamela Emory At Pine Valley there are two standing bets: 1) An average player won’t break 100 or a good player 90 the first time he plays the course. 2) On at least one hole the player will score more than five shots above par. Once, somebody played holes 13–15 in 7-1-11. His opponent won the 15th hole with a 10. Another player who often shot in the mid-70s had his second shot to the short par-4 8th hole bounce off the green. His opponent was on the green in two—but putted off. The hole was halved in 11. In the 1950s Woodie Platt, a very good golfer from Philadelphia, began one particular round 3-2-1-3. Platt, then six under, stopped at the bar in the clubhouse adjacent to the 5th tee to recount his accomplishment. There he remained for three hours and later explained: “Why go on? I couldn’t do any better—only worse.’” What makes Pine Valley so difficult is that the course was carved into the Pine Barrens of south New Jersey, so scrub pines vie with natural sand, which has been used so effectively in the course’s design, for dominance. One bunker is affectionately called “Hell’s Half Acre,” but it really covers three times that. In fact, there’s so much sand at Pine Valley that the club has its own sand and gravel pits. But it’s the proportion and arrangement of sand and “grungle”—a combination of scrubby, twisting vegetation, Scotch broom, honeysuckle, cacti and imported heather growing in the sand—that give the course the look of an Army training ground. For the accomplished golfer Pine Valley is relatively short at 6,999 yards. It also has wide fairways, no out of bounds and huge, sloping greens. To top-caliber players, the typical Pine Valley tee shot isn’t alarming: An airborne shot must carry some 140 to 184 yards in order to reach the desired fairway. As for the first-time visitor, take either of the standard bets. Nowhere are golf’s mind games put more to the test. Just knowing that the first slightly mis-hit shot may ruin your score can easily paralyze you, waiting for disaster to happen. God made Pine Valley, some argue, but the human most responsible for the brilliant layout is George Arthur Crump. The miracle Crump achieved is the result of his ability to allow nature to exist without too much meddling, his knowing exactly what he wanted before he started, his willingness to listen to other people’s design ideas, and a result of the era not being fully mechanized. When harsh weather closed Philadelphia golf courses, Crump and his friends sometimes headed for Atlantic City where they knew courses would be open for play. By the fall of 1912 the group had decided it was time for a year-round course close to Philadelphia. Crump was put in charge of finding the land. It seems, according to club lore, that on one Atlantic City trip Crump pointed out the train window and said to his pals, “That’s it! That’s the place for our course.” Another version has it that Crump knew of this parcel of land before the search began because he had hunted on it for years. Yet another has Crump owning the land, apparently having inherited it from his father. Anyone familiar with golf and this land would have seen it contained a number of natural elements we now commonly associate with a good, interesting course: rolling terrain, water, trees and a sandy-based soil. Immeasurable credit must go to Crump for not thinking he could improve on what nature had already put there. According to The Pine Valley Golf Club—a Chronicle, Crump knew exactly what he wanted his year-round prize to be: “He abandoned parallelism. He desired to keep each hole free of view of any other. He wanted no more than two successive holes in the same direction. He believed a course should ‘box the compass.’ He felt a layout should provide every ‘shot in the bag.’ He thought that in fairness to a long shot the player should have ample green to hit to, a smaller shot (deserving) a smaller green. More than anything else, he believed that a good shot should be rewarded and a bad one penalized—even if severely.” Not only did Crump listen to and adopt some of Englishman Harry S. Colt’s design ideas (Colt designed the New Course at St. Andrews and revised the English Course at Sunningdale Golf Club in England), he also invited other good players, especially those with an eye toward architecture, to Pine Valley to get their impressions about his early work in progress. In the early 20th century Philadelphia was home to some of golf’s greatest architects, including A.W. Tillinghast and George C. Thomas Jr. Their praise for Crump’s work was unanimous. The first thing you come to after crossing the same railroad tracks that took Crump and his pals to Atlantic City is a small white building with a simple sign that reads: Borough of Pine Valley. After that, it all seems reminiscent of a trip to summer camp. You are welcomed by tall pine trees, more white buildings and a narrow road winding around lily-covered ponds. Where the road turns and the pond comes into full view, the enormity of Pine Valley hits home. To the left looking up the hill is the 18th tee and fairway, but you’ve never seen such a wide green, closely crisscrossed-mown and cared-for fairway. Through the trees ahead you catch a glimpse of the clubhouse, an understated stucco edifice. Soon you pass by another pond—where Crump had his bungalow—and directly below the clubhouse is the famous 5th hole, the 232-yard par 3 that’s played uphill to a severely sloping green. Perennially ranked first in the world, Pine Valley remains the most coveted invitation in golf. Not long ago in the Las Vegas airport, two men were overheard introducing themselves. One said to the other, “I’m from the Delaware Valley and I’ve played Pine Valley once.” He didn’t need to say more.