 A VOTE FOR NO. 2
Cuscowilla Golf Club
Of course, there can be no quarrel that Augusta National is the Peach State paragon; not only the finest course in a state that's full-to-brimming with wonderful facilities both public and private, but it's one of the top five courses in the world.
So who gets the silver medal? Atlanta has some viable candidates with Peachtree and East Lake. Georgia's coastline is modest, but some would argue that gems like Ocean Forest and the Sea Island Golf Club's Seaside Course give it an outsized presence, golf-wise.
The vote here is for neither the capital nor the coast, but instead for Cuscowilla. This minimalist design in middle Georgia, having sprung from the fertile imaginations and traditional sensibilities of Ben Crenshaw and Bill Coore, has received numerous accolades since its 1998 debut.
Some rank it as the 14th best modern course in the nation, and the No. 1 public course in Georgia.
Cuscowilla is primarily defined by a presence and an absence. The presence of raggedy-edged, naturalistic red-hued bunkers, a true testament to the Georgia clay on which the course was built, is the most memorable playing feature on property. And the absence of formality among the staff, the absence of swarming, obsequious attendants, rushing to yank clubs from the trunk or swab them down at round's end, gives the course a mellow and understated vibe.
It's a notable counterpoint to the overly cheerful, practically in-your-face dynamic that seems to be the treat-every-guest-like-a-star upscale mantra these days. No golfer paying today's prices wants to be ignored. But the incessant greetings, inquiries, door-openings, etc. can be wearing.
Staff members at Cuscowilla strike the proper note with patrons. They are fully available and ready to assist, but will wait to be approached, rightly assuming that the type of golf purist attracted to a low-key, understated facility like Cuscowilla wants to feel things out for himself, and not be assaulted with directives or extraneous information.
 There was little earth moved by the architects, who authored a great variety of holes on the rolling, wooded property. Long and short par 3s, par 4s that dogleg both left and right and cerebral par 5s make even the strongest players give pause regarding club selection.
The risk-reward factor is a recurring theme at Cuscowilla. A prime example is the fifth hole, a modest-length par 4. The defining feature is a ripped gash of a bunker, as subtle as a knife scar, running parallel to the line of play down the centerline. The organic nature of the playing field precluded the use of bunker liners. So over time the white sand mixed with the red clay, and the end result is one of the most distinctive set of hazards in the state, and this mid-fairway bunker on the fifth in particular is probably the most memorable on premises.
If a player fades the ball to the wider portion of the fairway, the approach is slightly uphill to a partially obscured green. The bolder play is to the left of the bunker, and if executed properly, the result is a level shot - a short pitch to a green fully visible.
Another example is the 10th, a classic cape hole, doglegging to the right. Yank it left, avoiding the finger of Lake Oconee menacing the drive, and the approach shot is brutally long. Or, hit a controlled fade, knowing full well that if it metastasizes into a full-blown slice, you're three off the tee. But if the drive arcs onto the fairway, it leaves a much more tenable approach to the green.
Other holes like the seventh and 17th have encroaching trees or large bunkers that will swallow offline tee shots struck too boldly. The perfect draw around the obstacle leaves a short iron home. But the cerebral play is to lay back a bit, allowing for a margin of error from the fairway, and approach with a middle or longer iron.
As one of the great putters of his generation, Ben Crenshaw likes to place a premium on the short game so driving corridors at Cuscowilla are usually generous. Crowned greens and shaved banks repelling offline approaches make a delicate touch a necessity for decent scoring. Missing short is usually OK. A player can chip and putt for par. But sailing the approach shot long, right or left is the major mistake. "Short-siding" is a particularly grievous error. When the approach ends up in a swale on the same side as the pin, getting the ball up-and-in requires nothing less than the touch of the architect himself.
The course is the centerpiece, but far from the only attraction of this multifaceted resort and residential community. Rolling meadows, pine forests and a bit of lake shoreline provide the backdrop not just for golf, but for tennis, walking trails, swimming, fine dining, conferences, corporate meetings and the like. Families love the mellow atmosphere, and the course is both women- and junior-friendly, with no restrictions on tee times. But it's not uncommon for guys' golf groups, more often than not dyed-in-the-wool traditionalists, to come on site for a tournament-style jamboree with nonstop golf, barbecues and beer bashes where they never have to leave the 700-acre premises.
Shocking as it sounds, some business-types arrive sans clubs. Atlanta is only 80 miles west. The serene environment of Cuscowilla, not to mention convention services and plush accommodations at the on-site lake villas, lodge villas or golf cottages, makes it a natural retreat for sales meetings and think-tank sessions. But really, golf's the thing, the raison d'etre of the development.
Caddies add another time-honored touch to a course that is better walked in order to be better savored. Those who insist on staying tethered to their cart are assigned a forecaddie, who, freed from the burden of the golf bag, will ably assist with yardages, green reading and other golf-related ephemera.
Keeping with the throwback approach, the flags are all monochrome - there's no specific color designating a front, middle or back pin placement. Architects Crenshaw and Coore designed Cuscowilla as a "feel" course. And any player who appreciates golf in its organic state, unhurried and practically anachronistic, will feel great about the time he is fortunate enough to spend at this middle-Georgia gem.
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