Photo by Humpalumpa
(Creative Commons on Flickr)

This afternoon I ventured out into twenty degree weather to play disc golf at the newly installed 18-hole disc golf course at Bancroft Bay Park here in Albert Lea.

When I play by myself, as I did this afternoon, I sometimes spend as long as a half hour looking for discs I’ve accidentally thrown into the rough. Near the end of my search, a small measure of hopelessness starts to settle in and I tell myself that it will be okay if I don’t find the disc.

But then I summon up the resolve to not quit my search. I use innovative tactics like briefly walking away from the search area, and returning with with new eyes and renewed sense of what’s possible.

Somehow I almost always manage to find it. A smile spreads across my face as I walk over and pull it out of the snow.

One would think that after experiencing the ups and downs of losing a disc, finding it, losing it, and so on, that I would be more cautious about how I throw it, so that it doesn’t end up in the weeds, but I never learn. It just feels too good to watch a well thrown disc soar through the air toward it’s intended target. And the further I throw it, the better I feel. So who wouldn’t risk throwing a disc in the weeds? If I don’t take that chance, I may miss an opportunity to throw the week’s most memorable and beautiful drive?

Disc golf is a fantastic game that I’ve started playing quite a bit with my friend, Tim Engstrom. We’re both addicted. He’s the managing editor for the Albert Lea Tribune and has written several pieces about disc golf since we’ve started playing.

Disc golf inspires writing and introspection. The physics of a disc in motion are quite complex. In my spare time I google articles about the mechanics of throwing a disk or articles about the kaleidoscope-like nature of it’s spin. It’s amazing!

If you have a disc golf course in your area, give it a try. You won’t regret it.