Golf is an unusually productive place to pay attention.
A round lasts for hours. People walk together, separate, regroup, compete, tell stories, offer advice, remember old shots, misremember older ones, and occasionally encounter wildlife with strong territorial opinions. Courses are landscapes, businesses, communities, ecosystems, and elaborate machines for producing stories.
I rediscovered golf largely through my son. As he became more serious about the game, I started following along—first as a parent, then as a spectator, and eventually as a wheelchair-driving narrator who discovered there was considerably more happening out there than the score.
GolfQuest is where I follow those things.
The writing ranges across players and families, courses and clubs, equipment and performance, access and architecture, work and mentorship, travel, rituals, institutions, and the peculiar folklore golfers manufacture whenever reality proves insufficient.
Some pieces are about golf. Others begin there and wander somewhere else. A surprising number involve birds.
