Thursday, May 06, 2010

Golf Cart Stories Chapter Two

In a comment to this post, Tom wondered “Doesn’t every golfer have a golf cart story?”

I know I do, several in fact.

The first golf cart story occurred before I even played golf. Back in the seventies when I worked at Merriweather Post Pavilion, we had a small fleet of golf carts which we used to get around the property. One summer night when the outdoor theatre was dark, we had a picnic for our crew of high school and college kids. At some point in the evening someone came up with the bright idea that it would be cool to have a golf cart race around the perimeter of the grounds.

I should also note here that I was one of the supposedly responsible adults at this party. I was also a college student at the time.

In short order two of the swiftest carts were selected and each was assigned a driver and a copilot. I was one of the drivers.

Off we went into Symphony Woods towards the Crescent property in what was then called the Green Parking Lot. We did not have lights. At some point we angled back to the pavilion and shortly headed down a slope. That’s when cart number two grabbed my slim lead and then abruptly flipped over as it hit something.

Though no one suffered permanent injury one guy did end up with seventeen stitches in his arm.
The golf cart on the other hand, is another story.

Got a good golf cart story to share?

Drop me a note at wordbones@verizon.net.

4 comments:

Sarah said...

When I was about 16, my cousins lived on the edge of a golf course up in Ohio. A few of us decided to take my uncle's golf cart out for a joyride. There were for or five of us freewheeling around the subdivision streets, hopping on and off, taking turns driving, etc. Then we got pulled over by the cops, who told us that golf carts were not legal street vehicles and we'd better go home. Ahhh, family reunions. Probably not the type of story you were looking for, but there it is just the same.

HoCoRising said...

I used to work as a landscaper at Fairway Hills. We had these truck-like carts called "Workmans" that had five gears. You were only supposed to get it up to four on the course, but I was 19 and had a "need for speed." One time I found myself looking down into the creek near the 17th hole deciding whether I should jump out and lose my job, or continue to rock the Workman back at risk of at least a broken bone or two. My stubborn nature paid off, and I rode safely back to the barn with mud all over my face.

Not a golf cart story, but close enough.

Anonymous said...

My twins were six years old. We decided to let them drive the carts while my wife and I play a round of golf in Western Australia.

We should have told them about reverse...before one of them nudged into the tree.

There's more to the story than that, but let me just say that the both are driving around HoCo right now with learner's permits.... Nuff said.

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