This month, I return to the City of Vancouver and the jewel in the crown of its public golf courses: Fraserview. Though not the oldest of Vancouver’s municipal courses, it was conceived and constructed in a time of supreme social distress — the Great Depression — and brought welcome employment for hundreds of people when prospects were thin.
In the 76 years since the course opened for full play, Vancouver and the Lower Mainland have changed utterly. From the American border to the mountains of the North Shore, from Point Grey to Abbotsford, Mission and beyond, it’s difficult to tell where one municipality ends and another begins.
Yet if you look carefully, not everything has changed and some of the places that remain are more valuable than ever. Built on 225 acres of forest and meadow, Fraserview is surrounded by a four-kilometre walking and jogging trail with wonderful views over ponds, native trees, the Fraser River and Richmond beyond.
It is an antidote to the maddening world and a place of tranquility. You only have to seek it out.
It isn’t exactly hidden, but there are few signs pointing the way to the course. It’s located in the middle of a respectable neighbourhood, and like a respectable neighbour, Fraserview minds its manners and goes about its business quietly.
Like the best public courses, there’s a feeling of leaving the outside world behind when you pull in to the parking lot. Time slows a little and the urban soundscape mellows to a subdued, distant hum.
In the clubhouse there is a full kitchen to serve you everything from sandwiches and muffins to omelettes and full meals. They take pride in their work and the food is freshly prepared and reasonably priced.
The fully stocked proshop is the nerve centre and also home to the Golf Institute at Fraserview, a full teaching facility for people of all ages and abilities. Their golf camps and youth programs are introducing a new generation to the game and building young people of character.
There is a sense of quiet luxury about the whole facility and the greatest luxury of all is space. With wide open fairways and ancient trees lining them, it’s not hard to imagine that you and your foursome are one of the few groups on the course.
At 6,692 yards from the gold tees, it’s the longest city course and a place to unplug from the incessant demands of the world if you but choose to make it so.
I was joined there recently by friends Larry Verigin, Dan Rothenbush and Lance Olsen for an afternoon of golf and a little time away from the outside world.
It began on the opening hole. At 339 yards from the blue tees, Number 1 is a wide slight-dogleg right to a green guarded by bunkers on the right.
There was little visual intimidation off the tee and plenty of room to land. The layout actually reminded me a little of Nicklaus North in Whistler, lots of room off the tee but the noose tightened as you approached the green.
I allowed myself one exception to unplugging. While I turned off the ringer on my cell phone, I kept it on and used the Vancouver Parks Board smartphone app. It allows you to keep score, has a GPS function to measure distance, it’s free to download and works on all three city courses.
Holes 1-7 led us down, traversing the slope toward the river and then holes 8 and 9 brought us up again to the clubhouse.
There were several notable holes on the front. Number 2, at 455 yards from the blue tees, was a longish dogleg left par-5 with a blind tee shot and a fairway that sloped left to right. Ranked second most difficult on the course, there were fairway bunkers waiting to gobble up rolling tee shots and a bunker and a small grove of trees to the right front of the green.
The third hole, a 169-yard par 3, in a way could be considered the course’s signature hole as you can actually see the Fraser River from the tee box. It’s all downhill to the green and for us the wind was a major factor with all tee shots landing just short.
For me, the most transcendent experience on the course was walking down the sixth fairway.
This section of the course ran parallel to southeast Marine Drive, one of the busiest traffic arteries in Western Canada. I could barely hear the traffic. The noise was there but it seemed miles away, like distant thunder roiling at the far end of a long valley.
While both nines were roomy, the back nine was about 400 yards longer than the front and had three of the top five most difficult holes, starting with Number 10.
At 423 yards from the blue tees, this uphill brute had fairway bunkers left and right and was the longest par 4 on the course and ranked most difficult as well. A couple of promising rounds were very wobbly after putting out here.
The 11th, at 396 yards, was a respectable distance but lacked the verticality of Number 10 and slowly ships began to right.
At 180 yards, Number 13 was a beautiful sight. The downhill par-3 had a large pond to the right front of the green and the golf balls that speckled its bottom seemed to dance in the sunlight reflecting off the surface.
Holes 14-17 led us into the thick of the forest and out again to one of the most beautiful finishing holes that I know of.
From the tee box of the 500-yard par-5 18th I caught a glimpse of the club house in the distance that never fails to stop me in my tracks.
Whether you were unplugged or not, the vista was of a different time, before the lines between the cities began to blur. Unhurried, quiet, genteel.
It is the Vancouver of the early 20th Century: generous and confident, accommodating and willing to take a chance.
Yet it still exists today. We are accustomed to all this beauty and can become a bit blasé, but people from elsewhere see it and move here if they get the opportunity. If you have lost sight of it, you don’t have to go farther than Fraserview to find it.
It’s still here, waiting for you.
