Central Coast Swing (Part III): Escaping the Mist of Morro Bay
The chill of a brisk Central Coast morning crept through the window of Alex and Claire’s guest bedroom in the early hours of Saturday morning. Slightly perturbed by the cold and early rousing, I burrowed deeper into my assortment of blankets and sleeping bags, tossing and turning until I slowly accepted the abrupt reality that adequate warmth was unobtainable. In the opposite corner of the room, the intense snore of my golfing partner Troy assured he was engulfed in a deep hibernation. The crow of a neighbor’s rooster arrived just before daybreak and closed the book on my attempts to salvage any more sleep. I used the premature wakeup call to squeeze in a quick shower and check the weather for our second day of golf. As Alex and Troy emerged to fill their travel mugs with coffee, we stole a few moments to visit with our excited canine host Bandon — mindful to avoid riling him up so much as to wake the entire house. We wrapped things up and shipped out just before 6:30 a.m. for our 30-minute ride to the third leg of our golf journey.
With the truck loaded, we navigated the backroads of Arroyo Grande, passing strawberry fields and modest ranch homes before merging onto Highway 101. We proceeded north into San Luis Obispo and diverted onto Highway 1. It was the same road that led us to Dairy Creek and the rolling hills that framed the prior day’s sunset. As we drifted west, the marine layer encroached on our view of the coast. Through the haze, the outline of Morro Rock emerged as a shadowy figure against the monochromatic landscape. The 500-foot volcanic plug is the most photographed of the area’s “Nine Sisters” collection of peaks. Dubbed as the “Gibraltar of the Pacific” the historic landmark lies at the edge of the shore, and dates back 23 million years. We crested the hill into the city of Morro Bay and drove along Piney Way, turning away from downtown. A few minutes along the outskirts of the city brought us to Morro Bay State Park and the welcome sign for Morro Bay Golf Course.
This trip marked our first visit, but the course’s reputation preceded it and any practical experience. We heard rumblings describing Morro as “a poor man’s Pebble Beach” and “the best public course in San Luis Obispo County”, but such comments breed lofty expectations which, in my experience rarely materialize. On paper, Morro has the history, location, and topography to deliver on its notable reputation. Designed by Quintin Miller and E.W. Murphy, the course debuted in 1923 as Cabrillo Country Club, a nine-hole loop with wild grass fairways. In 1934, the California State Parks Division purchased the property. It would be another 17 years before the second-nine was developed using designs scribbled on paper by park warden Russell Noyes. The course retained its country club title until 1957 when it was rebranded as Morro Bay Golf Course. The design has remained largely unchanged, even after a touch-up by Robert Muir Graves in 1987. Over a century of progress, Morro Beach Golf Course has anchored the beach town like a lighthouse from the shore.
The property rests on a slope with Black Hill perched above, views of the town below, and the bay just beyond. The driveway climbs from the base of the city road towards the perch of the parking lot. We checked into a modest clubhouse, paid a $59 non-resident green fee and stopped by the practice green. The bent/poa greens were healthy and maintained a moderate pace even with the added friction of the morning dew. We watched two groups tee off before us and seemingly disappear into the drape of the coastal mist. As we made our way to the tee and handed our receipt to the starter, the few colors previously discernable were now wrapped in a 360-degree landscape of slate grey. Alex provided a verbal debrief of the hole helping us visualize what was in store while I pretended not to notice the group ahead of us combine for 200 yards total off the tee. The group faded into the fog 30 yards at a time until they crested the hill, and the rattling of their clubs was eventually silenced. This led to a debate as to how long to wait before safely teeing off, not wanting to add injury to the insult well under way. When we eventually teed off, we were guided by blind faith, not sight. Morro began to reveal itself 50 yards at a time as we walked up the 1st hole. The dogleg-right par-5 was the first fateful exercise in a day full of humility. The hole appeared scorable at face value, until my third shot, where I had 90 yards to a back-right flag. My approach landed pin-high at the center of the green and as we approached, the intricacies of Morro’s notoriously difficult putting surfaces came into focus. A subtle ridge drifted left-to-right from the center of the green away from the pin location at a downhill 45-degree angle. It was an immediate test of patience and resolve, a test which I failed miserably as my putt fell below the ridge and moved farther and farther from the hole. The opening three-putt was a baptism into Morro’s cardinal rule: always be below the hole.
“Morro Rock emerged as a shadowy figure against the monochromatic landscape.”
We traversed through the opaque, often aiming at darker shades of grey, hoping they corresponded with the green. What I could see of Morro was a traditional golf course with tree-lined fairways, dug bunkers, and small, articulating greens. The holes connected with an over-and-back arrangement ─ the rise of one fairway culminating in an elevated green and an adjacent tee box for the next hole. There were no water hazards or forced carries to intimidate an impressionable golfer. Instead, narrow fairways were outlined by dense trees and mature Kikuyu rough that made the upcoming shots and lies unpredictable. We struggled to recover from outside the fairways and quickly learned that bouncing back from errant tee shots took some creativity and a fair amount of sheer luck. On the 3rd hole, a 302-yard uphill par-4, I caught a bit of bad luck. My tee shot veered left into the trees separating the fairway from Black Mountain Road. Fearing the worst, I looked for my ball along the tree line and the white out-of-bounds stakes. Much like the adage, “it’s always the last place you look” my ball revealed itself at eyeline, wedged in the branches of a tree. I took two overhead stabs with a tinge of vengefulness and utter disregard for the sapling. My 7-iron eventually returned the golf ball to the playing surface with a humbling ‘plop’ that quickly grounded me in a brand of reality often faced by first time players of a course.
Our group trudged up and down the hillside and we watched the fog lift and roll back in, sometimes twice as heavy. The sun fought to break through the morning blanket but instead illuminated the landscape like a photographer’s diffuser. Picturesque moments aside, the association with Pebble Beach was mostly unfounded, but the discussion inspired another comparison. Troy mentioned that Morro more closely resembled Presidio Golf Course in San Francisco with Cypress trees occupying both courses and the constant movement of their fairways generating recurring side-hill lies. The diminutive greens were another comparable feature to which Troy preached that placement was essential. We both agreed that Morro’s greens were exceptional and characterized by a level of motion and nuance uncommon to public golf at this price point. The challenge was often intensified by an agronomy crew unafraid of provocative pin locations. On the par-4 5th hole, a front pin location interrupted a severe right-to-left gradient drifting towards the edge of the green. The perilous slope convinced Troy to conservatively lag his birdie putt within a five-foot circle. His cautious approach paid off with a par. After completing the hole, we took turns replicating Troy’s birdie putt and experimenting with more aggressive lines. His demonstration of restraint proved to be the correct tactic after none of our putts got within ten feet.
“it’s always the last place you look…”
While Troy and I raved about many elements of the course, Morro’s only weak spot is perhaps the byproduct of surviving modern development. The 6th hole reaches the northern boundary of the property and butts up against a residential neighborhood. The tee box to the downhill, dogleg right is encroached upon by a chain-link fence angling from right to left into the teeing ground. The end of the fence is accompanied by a tree, with both attempting to shield the adjacent homes. A bullseye-styled aiming pole pokes out from the left side of your vantage point, guiding an otherwise blind tee shot. Our course host Alex shared a bit of local knowledge informing us that the aiming pole actually sits in the left rough. For a right-handed golfer, the play is a gentle fade aimed at the center of the bullseye, cutting back into the fairway. After a solid drive, players face no more than a wedge into the green. The ensuing shot will test your distance control with an immediate runoff beyond the putting surface. Besides a crowded 6th tee box and a few patches of hardpan far off the fairway, the front side of Morro already delivered an experience well beyond the price of admission.
With the front-nine occupying the northern half of the property, we crossed Park View Drive to the section of the course originally known as Cabrillo Country Club. The back nine opens with a 170-yard, downhill par-3 that treated us to the first unobstructed view of the bay. As the history of the course foretells, holes 11 through 18 demonstrate a subtle design shift from the front-nine. The fairways stretched in width and the trees lining the outskirts became more sparse. The added breadth came with dramatic slopes, funneling shots from the fairway into the rough. The greens stretch approximately 20% from front-to-back compared to the front nine, placing an even greater emphasis on course management and lag putting. Overly conservative drives into the high side of the fairway result in downhill approaches from a punishing rough, handicapping players with limited spin. While the two nines are distinct and aesthetically different, the northern and southern halves are united by a common test of golf. The front-nine is golf’s version of a multiple-choice exam, giving you various options but only one right answer. The back-nine shifts to a short-essay format, allowing for more creativity and nuance along the way to a poignant conclusion.
“once again, we were reminded of our earlier lesson: Don’t be above the hole…”
The tee of the 11th hole gives a brief preview of the payoff to be had two holes later. The 13th is without question Morro’s postcard hole. Players hit from an elevated tee down an arrow-straight fairway some 40-feet below, the layout reminiscent of the opening hole at Riveria Country Club. The 420-yard, par-4 stretches to the southwest edge of the property with the Pacific Ocean peeking through a row of Cypress trees bisecting the course and the street. There’s a subtle incline before reaching a multi-tier green where, once again, we were reminded of our earlier lesson: Don’t be above the hole. After completing 13 holes, the warmth of the sun burned through the marine layer. For our patience, we were rewarded with unobstructed views of the coast. Such beauty necessitated a few extra moments in silent observation, and we hesitated to turn our backs on the canvas-worthy scene of kayakers paddling around the bay.
According to Elaine Taylor, the former Morro Bay Women’s Golf Club Historian, Robert Muir Graves’ sole modification during his redesign was converting the 15th hole into a dogleg left. The short par-4 is listed at 308 yards, but longer hitters can reach the green with a 280 to 290-yard shot as the crow flies. Interior out-of-bounds and a wall of trees protect the left side, forcing players to lay up or hit a high right-to-left shot. The hole is a risk/reward challenge that keeps players engaged no matter their relation to par. Under the right circumstances, the 15th and 16th provide an opportunity to steal two shots on your way back to the clubhouse. However, the prevailing wind on the 16th rushes into the player’s face, making the 510-yard par-5 a likely three-shot hole to reach in regulation. The penultimate hole is another long par-3 before one final U-turn into Morro’s final hole. The course wraps up with a modest par-4 that finishes within sight of the parking lot, first tee, and practice green; giving players the chance to finish in glory and triumph or sink into everlasting embarrassment in front of a captive audience.
“The hole is a risk/reward challenge that keeps players engaged no matter their relation to par.”
At 6,300 yards from the tips, Morro doesn’t wow with its scale, nor does it sell players with ocean views like Sandpiper or Torrey Pines. The course’s strengths lie in the nostalgic layout and straightforward approach to golf design and playability. Morro demands the same execution from a 20-handicap as it does a scratch golfer and everyone in between. Players of every ability level are challenged to demonstrate basic golf fundamentals starting with hitting fairways and ending with disciplined approach shots. With a reasonable cost of entry, Morro gives the public a glimpse into a class of golf usually reserved for upper echelon courses. Judging by the parking lot, the locals have responded and patronize the course with frequency.
the rather unique name of ‘Babydudes’ piqued our interest. We had no choice but to stop and enjoy the local fare.
With our golf appetites satisfied and perfect seaside weather, we searched for lunch options in town. Again, we relied on our local golf concierge Alex and the sage advice of his wife, Claire. Her mention of a restaurant in Morro Bay with the rather unique name of ‘Babydudes’ piqued our interest. We had no choice but to stop and enjoy the local fare. Founded by chef-owners Hannah Jacobs and Tal Petschek in Brooklyn, the duo found a home in Morro Bay in 2021. Their pink and blue shack occupies the northeast corner of Main St. and Morro Bay Blvd. and maintains the feel of their pop-up roots. The menu draws inspiration from locally sourced produce and meats, focusing on food sustainability. Coffee, sandwiches, salads, and baked goods are the staples, but the offerings constantly shift based on seasonal availability and whatever is leftover in the kitchen. The signature of any ’Babydudes’ sandwich is the bread, especially the homemade focaccia that lined my roast beef and peppers sandwich. Troy and Alex chose the SEC sandwich which featured a house ground sausage patty and bodega-styled scrambled eggs with cheddar cheese. In concept, Babydudes is about simple, old-fashioned recipes that are magnified by high-quality ingredients and shared with the local community without pretention. In many ways, Babydudes mirrored the golf course we just played.
After lunch, we wandered about town, with photographer-at-heart-Troy framing vintage trucks and signs within the viewfinder of his Olympus OM-2 film camera. We blended seamlessly with the couples and families making the tourist’s loop along the Embarcadero. I took pause to notice the names painted on the boats docked in the harbor while Troy and Alex chatted about the local surf shops. It wasn’t long before we felt time slipping away and our thoughts turned to the second golf destination of the day. Prior to departing, we dove into a corner thrift store. Amongst the notable relics at Tara Lee’s Antiques, I found a stack of PGA Tour trading cards from the early-90s. I eagerly snatched up three packs as souvenirs of our visit. Channeling our inner children, we broke the seal on the cards, pulling them out one-by-one, calling out the names of players long forgotten. Midway through my pack, I drew a card bearing the image of Lee Trevino posing after an iron shot from the fairway. I flipped to the biographical information on the back and again to the front, smirking at the likeness of one of my golfing heroes. I tucked his card into the visor and unofficially dubbed him the patron saint of our trip. We rejoined Main St. and traced the edge of the golf course once again on our way through the campgrounds of Morro Bay State Park.
A right turn on Bay Blvd. pointed us south towards our fourth golf course of the weekend…
Be sure to check out our other posts from this trip: Part I from Avila Beach, and Part II from Dairy Creek!
