My Maiden Voyage to the New Streamsong Resort

The Best Golf Course I've Ever Played

As I've explained in previous posts, this road trip serves many purposes. I've had the chance to see family and friends, explore an area of this country of ours that I hadn't really experienced before, escape the New England winter, and of course, begin my golf season a few months early. I've played all over the Southeast, but I didn't yet have that feather in my cap of visiting a world class golf course. Not that I needed it. I've never payed more than a hundred dollars for a round of golf, and anything above thirty is a rare treat.

An understate sign welcomes visitors

Still, when I heard about a new resort being constructed in the middle of Florida's mining country--with hopes of becoming the Bandon Dunes of the Southeast--I knew I would do anything to play there. A month ago, I penned an email to the Head Pro at the Streamsong Golf Resort, explaining my passion for golf and golf course architecture. Just before I left for my drive south, I received a reply. Mr. Scott Wilson I was welcome at Streamsong. The excitement started building from there.

The Story Behind Streamsong

I'd heard about this project a few years ago and followed the progress with mild interest. It's not everyday that you see two eighteen hole courses being constructed at the same time by the two "hottest" modern golf course architecture firms--Coore & Crenshaw and Tom Doak's Renaissance Golf Design. And there are few places in this world which feature dunes akin to those in the British Isles, let alone in the otherwise flat and boring Florida landscape. Let me explain. Streamsong sits in the middle of Florida--about two hours from everywhere important, as I've discovered. Leaving the coast, the land can be pretty dull, with plenty of orange groves, fields of cattle, and mining operations. One particular mining site sat untouched for decades, the piles of sand left by the operation exposed to the wind and native vegetation. And it was this landscape--mirroring the Scottish or Oregon coast--that the idea for a new golf resort was born.

Such a prime piece of real estate could only be rewarded to the best golf course architects, so together, Tom Doak and Bill Coore walked the site in attempt to find the space for thirty-six holes. When they drew it up, they used a red pen and a blue pen to distinguish the separate eighteens from each other. When it came time to decide, Bill Coore chose the red eighteen, leaving Doak with the equally stunning blue eighteen. Thus, Streamsong's Red Course and Blue Course were born. Just three months ago, the courses were ready for play. Even with the resort hotel still under construction, the two courses opened to public play--attracting only the biggest and best golf nerds.

A view of the clubhouse, practice green, and surrounding dunes from the first tee

Making the drive to Streamsong is an experience in itself, but turning onto Streamsong Drive and seeing the first of the dunes made me stop to take in the landscape. It certainly did not look like any Florida I'd seen the past few week. The chique clubhouse sits nestled between two sixty-foot dunes, with fairways radiating outwards between the fescued hills.

Tom Doak's Blue Course

Tom Doak is my favorite modern golf course architect, even though his Streamsong routing is the first of his designs I've had a chance to play. His minimalist style opposes so many of the modern Florida designs, which is why he's been chosen to tackle projects in incredible landscapes such as Pacific Dunes, Cape Kidnappers, and Barnbougle Dunes. With a handful of designs already firmly in the World's Top 100, he is arguably the best golf course architect alive. The Blue Course at Streamsong is another one of his jaw-dropping designs, which can challenge any course in Florida and compete with the best in the world. The first tee sits at the highest point on the property, and offers views of the clubhouse, practice facilities, and nearly every hole on both courses.

Holes To Note

Though each hole would seem world class on a different course, I have to limit myself here. I felt the front nine was stronger overall, though the three closing holes offered the toughest test of the round. Had I played in different weather circumstances (I had off-and-on rain before the skies opened up on fourteen and pestered me for the rest of the round), I may have appreciated some of the latter holes more. I'm sure I'll play the Blue again, but for now, here are my favorite holes. (Yardages are from the Black tees, totaling 6698 yards).

3rd Hole - Par 4 - 370 Yards

The third is a moderate par four playing over a marsh to a wide fairway. (Side note: the fairways were the widest I'd ever seen, and the course featured no rough--only fairways and the thick bushes and fescue found everywhere else). A pesky little pot bunker guards the right side of the fairway, which is the safest play and also offers a frontal attack to the green. Playing left shortens the hole but brings the water and sand into play running down the left side. The uphill approach to the skyline green plays longer than it looks, especially when the pin is placed in the back corner.

The green sits high on the horizon, creating a "skyline" effect.

4th Hole - Par 4 - 417 Yards

The tougher of these wonderful back-to-back par fours, the fourth offers ample width for a drive. The direct line towards the green runs along the left side of the fairway, but a massive sandy area on the left steers golfers to aim right. From the right side of the fairway, the approach shot must fly a steep bunker and land softly on this perched high above the fairway. Tom Doak must have laughed a little when he realized he could put the bunker on top of the hill to create this difficult two-shotter.

This par four zigzags upwards, with menacing bunkers on both sides of the hill leading up to the green.

5th Hole - Par 3 - 121 Yards

Outstanding short par threes are getting harder and harder to find in modern golf design, but this green site--only fifty yards or so from the fourth pin--is befuddling enough to challenge any tee shot, regarless of length. On most holes, and on the fifth especially, the tee boxes are merely two stakes on a flat piece of fairway--no rectangular country club style tee boxes here! The green is skinny but nearly seventy yards in length, with a tremendous pin position in the bowl found on the back left corner of the green. I hope to play the Blue one day when the fifth pin is back there!

From behind the long and skinny fifth green, the bowl-like feature on the back of the green is visible.

7th Hole - Par 3 - 188 Yards

Though Tom Doak wouldn't want any of his courses to have a designated signature hole, the seventh is easily the most picturesque hole on the property. Playing from high above the pond, the golfer must carry the pond and avoid trouble on all sides to hit this large and devilish green. Walking across the bridge to the green site, the encircling dunes seem to loom bigger and bigger. The contours of the green are as such that it's possible to chip or putt from the back and have the ball roll into the water. This is a hole where I could hit the tee shot a hundred times and still never tire of it.

As gorgeous as it gets, the seventh is the perfect setting for a dramatic par three.

9th Hole - Par 5 - 541 Yards

The ninth (and eleventh) play in a part of the property where the features aren't as severe. On these holes, Doak exemplifies minimalism--using the soft natural contours to dictate tee and approach shots. The drive on the ninth is a true blind shot--something that many modern architects fear to build. The subtle mounds cause unexpected bounces for lay up shots, and this green accepts shots both along the ground and in the air. This par five may be the easiest on the Blue, but the thrill of hitting a blind tee shot and then climbing the steep hill makes it a memorable hole.

Massive bunkers guard the right side of the hill on this blind first shot.

12th Hole - Par 4 - 390 Yards

The dramatic twelfth green framed by water, sand, and dunes.

The twelfth has all the makings of a world class par four. A driving corridor framed by bunkers and dunes, a lateral hazard that makes the golfer think twice before blasting a tee shot, a picturesque green site sitting in a natural hollow in front of the dunes, and a wild green with two distinct tiers. Even if one can avoid the large greenside bunkers, ending up on the proper tier is a must for any hope of a two-putt.  I managed to stick a four-iron on the top tier, and I certainly wouldn't have wanted a putt up or down the slope. For sheer beauty and strategic design, the twelfth rivals any on the Blue Course.

The view from the dunes behind the twelfth green shows how perfectly this hole fits into the land.

Side note: here on the fourteenth hole the skies decided to open up, and though I was drenched, I did record my only birdie of the day on this double-dogleg par five.

And then the rains came.

17th Hole - Par 5 - 573 Yards

A true three-shot golf hole, the seventeenth is perhaps the most perplexing par five I've played. A wide fairway accepts all types of tee shots, but it's the second that requires all of the thinking. 170 yards short of the green sit three massive cross-bunkers. The decision is this: lay up short of the bunkers and have long approach uphill to the green, or attempt to clear the bunkers for a short pitch in but risk getting caught. Going left to clear the bunker is the shorter route, but it yields a tougher angle into the green. A gorgeous par five, and a very testing hole down the stretch.

A distinctive tree frames this par five, but it's the massive
cross-bunkers that cause all of the problems on seventeen.

Final Thoughts; Another Thank You

Streamsong Blue is the best golf course I've ever played, hands down. It made the day even better when I caught up to Kevin McGinnis on the fourteenth hole. I wrote about playing with Kevin in my previous golf post, and I'll reiterate that spending time on the golf course with someone who knows and loves the game is always a wonderful experience. I'd like to thank Mr. Wilson again for  treating me so well. I know that I will be back; I'd love another crack at the Blue (especially if the sun is shining), and I've heard the Red is every bit as good. I would recommend Streamsong to any passionate golfer, because these courses are a treat to play--and they're here to stay.

A Whole New World

My Vacationing Begins in Vero Beach

It was off the farm, out of New Smyrna, and straight to the paradise that is Vero Beach. I've discovered two things during this road trip: when traveling, it's good to have Camp Dudley, and it's good to have a grandfather who is the greatest networker I've ever known. (I guess I already knew that because of my travels in Germany, but this trip has certainly reinforced it). I had two contacts in Vero Beach: the McGlynns, who have been family friends since my grandfather was at Williams, and Bill Black, a company manager and friend who goes back to the early days of my grandparents' Storey Publishing business. 

I drove through Downtown Disney, just for the fun of it

I caught up with Ronnie and Connie McGlynn first. (They are also the grandparents of my Dudley friend Guthrie McGlynn, who lives out in Colorado). Their gated community on John's Island is one of the nicest places I've ever had the privilege of visiting. Not only do they have one of the nicest homes I've ever seen--complete with a pool and a short boardwalk down to a nearly private beach, but they also have access to an incredible beach club and three world class golf courses. I know if I ever have any desire to retire to Florida (and I save up enough money to make it possible), John's Island would be a dream location to live. 

It was nice to see the McGlynns, and soon it was on to the true center of Vero Beach, where Bill Black would be hosting me for the next two nights. Vero is far different from the bustling surf destination of New Smyrna, and to paraphrase Bill's description of the town, it has a lot of nice restaurants and not much else. Fortunately, Bill was kind enough to take me out to two fine dining establishments, where I began my quest to consume at least one type of seafood each day while I'm still in Florida. (Don't worry, the streak is still alive). At Pomodoro's on Tuesday night, I chose a shrimp, scallop, and crabmeat pasta dish, and at the Ocean Grill the next evening I got to indulge on some tuna sashimi and a filet of grouper. I must note that the Ocean Grill may have been the most elegant restaurant I've stopped at during this entire gap year. I can't say with certainty it was the best meal I've had, but as far as setting and decor goes, this place was exquisite. As a solo traveler on many occasions, I wasn't often seeking out the finest places in town (and we all know that Germany doesn't win any "elegant" awards for their food). Still, thanks to Bill, I got to see what the upscale restaurants of Vero Beach were all about, and my meal at the Ocean Grill is one I will remember for a long time.

I will remember Vero for many reasons, but when I think of Bill Black, my mind will immediately jump to one thing: golf. For some, golf is a hobby, a simple way to stay active, or a chance to escape the ups and downs of every day life for a few hours on the course. Bill and I both fit all of those descriptions, but he takes this passion to the point of obsession. Those are the type of golfers that I want to meet--the true golf nerds, who leave golf books out on their coffee tables, speak of course architectural legends like Old Tom Morris and C.B. MacDonald as old friends, and have their clubs ready to go at a moment's notice. Even though golf has taken Bill places I can only dream of, we can relate through our understanding of the game. Best of all, someone so passionate about the game usually has access to a nice course and is happy to share it with fellow golfers.

Bill set me up for a day at his club in Vero Beach, called Indian River. I haven't played at enough private facilities to become accustomed to the unique level of service, so getting the chance to be treated as a "member for the day" was a treat unto itself. Then there was the golf. I played twenty-seven holes, only pausing to devour a chicken caesar salad after the first eighteen (Bill informed me that the clubs in his area compete for the best chicken salads--not burgers, not club sandwiches, but chicken salads). I certainly felt like I was playing Florida golf, but at a course that offeres plenty of variety, interesting design strategy, and immaculate conditioning, I had no trouble enjoying a day on the links.

Looking back up the 6th hole at Indian River

I had an incredible time in Vero Beach with Bill, and having the chance to relax, play golf, and eat well after two weeks on the farm made it feel even better. I even swam in the ocean. I know I'd join Bill for a round of golf anywhere in the world, and I do hope to get that privilege again soon.

A Few Brief Thoughts on Golf

Golf is universal. The game can be played with anyone; the traditions can be shared by everyone. It unifies us with Mother Nature, and connects us with old friends and new friends. A round of golf, no matter where in the world it's played, is an eighteen-hole journey through sculpted scenery and our entire spectrum of emotions. Most of all, golf is rewarding--each and every time we tee it up. 

I've been referring to this section of my gap year as my road trip. Though it may not equal my friend Dylan Dethier's eight-month forty-eight state golfing journey, I wanted to have a road trip of my own. And since Dylan was my inspiration for the trip, I figured I had to play golf along the way. (Not like I needed any convincing). After nearly a dozen rounds here in America's southeast, I'm starting to see how Dylan was able to stay motivated for a year on the road--and how he was able to connect with so many people to make his trip and golfing experience possible. 

I've sought out golf courses during this trip for many reasons, and I've experienced a vast range of quality, notoriety, and atmosphere during my rounds. There was the twelve dollar town course in Mooresville, NC. On a cold January morning I was one of very few on the course, and walking alone for my first round of 2013, I rediscovered the inner peace that I've found on the golf course so many times before. There was the Monday morning in Dunedin, where I learned what my grandfather's golfing group was all about. The old guys have all come down to Florida and all love to get out and hit the golf ball, and they all have their own story to share. There was the round in New Smyrna Beach, where after hours of quietly suffering from the slow play in front of me, I shared a laugh with another solo walker, who was shocked at the pace of play even though he was a frequent looper. And there was today at Boca Royale with my grandparents, John and Martha Storey (I call them Mommom and Babo). The last time I played golf with them was last summer up in Westport, or even back at Taconic in June. It's amazing to think of how many miles I've covered and how much I've been exposed to since then. 

I golfed with Bobby, a traveling pro who scraped by playing mini-tours all over the country. Coming from North Dakota, he chose to forgo college for a life as a golfer, and though he is not and probably never will be famous, he's used golf to take him places. 

I joined John, an Auburn graduate and fourteen-year veteran in the engineering field. A true Florida native, John talked me through the Victoria Hills course as I plastered drives and snubbed approaches. He was in his element on the golf course, though I could tell he was restless--wanting to know what was next for him. Would he marry his longtime girlfriend? Would he be able to climb the ladder at his new job, or would he grow tired of it like his last one? Though John asked most of the questions, I knew he had a lot on his mind. 

I caught up to Kevin McGinnis in a rain storm on the fifteenth hole at the new Streamsong Resort (the best course I've ever played; I'll devote an entire blog post to that day sometime soon), a senior executive at a renewable energy development corporation out in Silicon Valley. Like me, he was a true golf course architecture nerd, and unlike me, he had the time and the money to travel all over the world seeking out the best golf courses. I hit my shots in awe of the contours and dunes at Streamsong, while Kevin mildly sauntered around the course--rattling off courses he'd played that I could only dream of and "practicing" for the following days when his brother and a few buddies would join him at the resort. 

These were three incredibly different people I met here in the state of Florida, but above all, they are golfers. Had it not been for golf, I wouldn't have had the pleasure of sharing an afternoon with each of them. Each time, as we shook hands on the eighteenth green, I was told, "If you're ever in my neck of the woods, call me up and we'll play another round together." 

That's what makes golf universal. We can all enjoy, but more importantly we can share it. I know that wherever I go, I'll try to bring my clubs, because a round of golf is often the simplest and purest way of meeting new friends. I know now that I at least have to get out to San Francisco to take Kevin up on his offer. 

Life On and Off the Farm

Though my first few days at Back To Earth Organic Farm in New Smyrna Beach, FL were not exactly what I was expecting, I soon discovered that it wouldn't be too hard to adapt to working and living in Florida. I'm now almost through with my second and final week at the farm. Every day, I've grown to appreciate the farm and the way Kirk lives more and more. And being able to escape to the beach or the golf course in the afternoons hasn't been a difficult transition whatsoever. Would I want to keep this up for months? Probably not. But am I happy with the way my two weeks at the farm have panned out? The answer couldn't be anything other than a "yes."

Planting, Watering, and Other Odd Jobs

It's cool being able to say "I planted that." And highlighted
by the warm Florida sun, my work turned out to be beautiful.

I've yet to divulge any details about what I'm actually doing every morning at the farm, mostly because for a while, I was still getting a grasp of the place. After ten work days, I am proud to say that I've had a hand in the upkeep and progression of nearly every inch of the farm. If you haven't realized it already, this place is small, and I don't even know if it fits under the true definition of a farm. Since it's so young (we're only beginning the second planting season), Kirk doesn't yet have an established market for his produce. But in my opinion, he needs to find one soon, because I alone have planted more seeds and seedlings than anyone could eat in a year, assuming the plants grow and succeed.

Yesterday I watered the entire place--a job that took all morning--and as I moved from bed to bed, I was delighted to see that so much of my work was already sprouting. The peas, which were a two-day project, were just poking through the soil. In a week they'll latch onto the fence and then there's no stopping them. And the squash plants, pictured above, were all growing taller atop their mounds, which I had shaped to begin with. Everywhere I looked, I could point and say "I weeded here" or "I planted there." After fewer than two weeks of labor, looking across the farm gives me a huge sense of accomplishment. I see why farming and gardening can be so rewarding--not just to be able to pick and eat the final product, but also to be able to say "I was in it from the beginning."

Kirk and I have become friendly, and though I still don't usually know what to expect from him, I value the times when I sit down on the couch with him after a long day and he opens up to me. I know this isn't easy for him--he's not a farmer by trade--but he keeps an attitude of "we're all learning together." I feel absolutely no pressure when I'm working for Kirk, but at the same time, he tried to stress that we should all take pride in what we're doing. He told me a few days ago that it's too bad I won't be around when everything I've planted is ready to harvest, and that was when I knew he valued my efforts. 

Read, Run, Golf, Eat, Write, Beach

Right there is a list of just about everything I do and think about, in order of importance, when I have free time. And I do have plenty of free time. I work every morning, from eight until noon, and then more often than not I'm finished for the day. New Smyrna Beach has a lot going for it, and though I'm not your typical vacationer, I think I've discovered a lot of what the town is about. So let's quickly go through the list.

• Read - There isn't much to do on the farm after dinner, so I've been happy to devote my evening hours to reading. So far I've finished This Side of Paradise and Billy Lynn's Long Halftime Walk--two very different books, but both easy to read and thought provoking. 
• Run - If I was here for longer, I would've looked into a soccer option. But for these two weeks, I've been all about my daily runs. There's a huge town athletic complex right across the street from the farm, and I've gone there plenty of times to use the track. And I've found that runs on the beach aren't bad, either. 
• Golf - For me, Florida and golf go hand in hand. I chose a February in Florida not because it would be nice enough to go to the beach, but because it would be nice enough to play golf. I've played a few afternoons each week, none better than my round at The Deltona Club. Florida soil is all sand, so when this course was redesigned a few years ago, much of the rough was replaced by white sandy waste areas (see the photo below). I'd never played a course with this look before. It didn't hurt either that it was a gorgeous day and that my drives were going straight. 
• Eat - I've enjoyed a lot of good cooking from Anna, a fellow WWOOFer from Poland, but it's also been fun to shop and cook for myself. Though I like to cook, I'm not the type of person who wants to prepare a meal for two hours before getting the chance to enjoy it. I'm pretty good at crafting quick, simple meals. And once in a while, I treat myself to a dinner in town. Last night I grabbed a few tacos at The Taco Shack and ate them overlooking the ocean as the sun set. 
• Write - I already knew I loved to keep this blog, but having another adventure so completely different than the first has been a great experience about which to write. I usually come to the public library after lunch and hunker down for a few hours of typing and catching up on the internet world (no wifi at the farm!). 
• Beach - I think it's fair to use "beach" as a verb here. The New Smyrna beach is a cool spot, good for runs, walks, or grabbing an ice cream cone slowly eating it in the warm ocean breeze. I have yet to throw a towel down on the sand and "sun bathe"--an idea that doesn't really appeal to me or my skin. Though I'm not dedicated to coming back home with a mid-summer tan, I've still had plenty of fun on the beach. 

Sandy waste areas replace nearly all of the rough at The Deltona Club

So there you have it, my life on and off the farm in New Smyrna Beach. It definitely feels like it's drawing to a close. I'm not ready to be done with Florida yet, and thankfully, I have two whole weeks more--this time with even fewer responsibilities. There are plenty of rounds of golf,  stops in Vero Beach, Placida, and Dunedin, and a whole lot of fun planned for everywhere I go. 

A Long Awaited Taste of Dunedin

A home-cooked Super Bowl, with golf on the side

My grandparents on my Dad's side--Mimi and Papa, as we call them--have been splitting time between Grafton, NY and Dunedin, FL for a long time. And for all this time, no one in my family has been to visit--until this past weekend. I knew that in my road trip south, seeing Mimi and Papa was inevitable, but thanks to the kindness of Kirk at the farm, I was able to sneak out for two days and see them even earlier than I expected. 

As we all know, the Super Bowl was played this past Sunday. Though I can't remember a Super Bowl that I've missed since the beginning of the Patriots' dynasty a dozen years ago, this trip across the state wasn't just about seeing the game. Two weeks working at a farm isn't all that drastic when you think about it, but after a long first week with plenty of ups and downs, it was an incredible feeling to be free again. I was going to Dunedin to relax, enjoy a few meals, and press the reset button before another week of farming. And seeing Mimi and Papa for the first time since August wasn't a bad deal either.

A beach panorama, just for fun

Even though I was only with Mimi and Papa for a night, it was nice to be in a real home again, not just a bunkhouse on the backroads of New Smyrna Beach. They live in a great location. Their home is close to pretty much everything important: the ocean, stores on every street, plenty of golf courses, Spring Training stadiums, and the cities of Tampa and St. Petersburg. Their longtime friends, Don and Lynn Disbrow, lived close as well, and that's where we ventured for Sunday's evening activities. 

The NFL dodged a bullet with this Super Bowl. I was fully content enjoying sandwiches and chicken wings and the conversation, but until the 49ers mounted a big-time second half comeback, the game had all the makings of a big letdown. To make matters worse, I decided to call home at halftime to wish my brother and my aunt Jess happy birthdays, and just after hanging up, the lights went out and we had to wait a whole extra half hour for play to resume. Had I known, I could've called home then!

Papa and I got an early start on Monday morning, but not before Mimi made sure I left with plenty of food. I received enough of their specialty breakfast bars to sustain me for the rest of my farming, plus plenty of snacks for the road. We drove to Westchase Golf Club for a morning with Papa's Monday golf group. At 8:30 sharp the sixty-odd men spread out across the course and begin play. We happened to start on the seventeenth, playing with Papa's friend Bill and another golfer named Chuck Butt. The was nice in a typical Florida fashion--lots of water, houses lining nearly every hole, and plenty of sets of tees to accommodate for the old guys. Some times it's nice to play a round where you can hit four-iron off nearly every tee. I didn't play the best golf of my life, but I didn't let any of the old guys beat me, and my approach on the par three eleventh won me ten dollars in the closest-to-the-pin competition. 

After the long round was over, we dined on the five dollar buffet in the clubhouse, and shortly after I was on the road back east. Saying goodbye was easy; if anything, the visit gave me more motivation to work hard for my second and final week at the farm. It's been a rewarding experience already, and one more week of labor will feel like nothing once I'm free to travel again. I don't want to look at my time in Florida as "two weeks on the farm" and then "two weeks of fun," because I have enjoyed myself here in New Smyrna. That being said, I know that there's so much waiting once the "vacation" begins. 

And one last piece of good news: I heard today that my sister has the good fortune of spending her February school break in Florida with my cousins the Storeys. So, not only do I get to see both of my grandparents, but I also get to spend time with my aunt and uncle, my cousins, and Miranda! And to Sam, who will be taking down Berkshire County competition on the hardwood while we're on the beach in Florida, I'll take you to Germany in a few years. For now, enjoy being a teenager (13 as of yesterday)!

A Little Farm in Florida

I arrived at Back To Earth Organic Farm on Monday, a day after turning eighteen. It had been an unforgettable week driving down the east coast, but I soon discovered that settling at the farm meant a complete change of pace in my life. I met Kirk, the owner of the farm, whom I’ll speak about later; received a tour his small property; and was told, “Have a good night, the work starts tomorrow.”

I have a hard time recalling any point in my life when I felt alone. Upset? Sure. Confused? Yup. Frustrated? Of course. Homesick? Definitely. But alone—truly alone? There were moments during my first few days at the farm when I felt more alone than ever before. Knowing that I couldn’t see a familiar face without driving across the state of Florida scared me, and there were times when I considered packing up my stuff and hitting the road. Then I realized that this was the real world. I planned this year so that I could have all types of experiences. Maybe it was the fact that my time in Germany so greatly exceeded my expectations, but I was not prepared for the culture shock of arriving at the farm. I felt like I had gone to a different side of the world. I knew I was well equipped, but for the first few days, loneliness got the best of me. Slowly, my thoughts turned from “I have to get out of here” to “Let’s just get through a few hours of work so I can go play golf” to “Two weeks here will seem like nothing once it’s all over.”  

I will save details about the farm, how Kirk operates, and my duties as a WWOOFer (WWOOF stands for World-Wide Opportunities for Organic Farmers) until next week, because I still have so much to learn about the place. But here’s my best attempt at generalization: the small property looks like it was chewed up, recycled, and then thrown in the middle of the jungle. Going back to the culture shock, I struggled to see how it could be considered a home, a farm, or both. When I think of a farm, I picture a big barn, a large country farmhouse, acres of open fields, and the smell of freshly mown hay. I don’t imagine an overgrown patchwork of sandy garden beds or hear the sounds of freight trains and airplanes. But for all intensive purposes, the latter is my farm and my home right now.

I like to think of myself as independent, confident, and mostly self-sufficient. Up until this point, I’ve always had someone there to provide meals, do my laundry, and make sure I’m healthy and happy. I went grocery shopping on my second day. Before, my “groceries” were whatever snack food I needed. But as I drove to the Winn Dixie a few miles from the farm, I started to make a list in my head. Water; orange juice; chocolate milk; Greek yogurt; bananas; eggs; Honey Bunches of Oats. Those were the things that were always there for me when I walked in the door, and buying them for myself felt strange. Is this what being eighteen is all about?

Marcus and his dog Taylor

And then there was laundry. I passed by the machine twenty times a day, but if it wasn’t for a twelve-year-old kid named Marcus, I probably still wouldn’t have gone near it. Here’s my story about Marcus: I got back from a late afternoon round of golf on Thursday, and as I pulled in, my headlights flashed over Marcus coming out the front door. His family rents part of the doublewide trailer, and they live just about as simple as anyone can. I parked the car and started to walk towards my bunk house, but Marcus stopped me. (By the way, he’s in sixth grade, but he can’t be more than 4’8”—with a voice as high as any kindergartener’s). “Can you help me hang my laundry,” Marcus asked me? “I can’t reach the clothesline. That was when it hit me that if a twelve-year-old is hanging his own laundry on a clothesline he can’t reach, then I could at least attempt to wash my socks and underwear. I went with Marcus to the machine and helped him dig the clothes out of the bottom—he couldn’t really reach those either. Then we walked the basket over to the line, and as I pulled down, he hung his wet clothes, just the way his mom liked them to be. The next day, I gathered up my dirty laundry, washed everything, hung it up to dry, and even folded it all before returning each item to my duffel bag.

It's been a challenging first week, and though my emotions have fluctuated around in circles since I arrived, it hasn't been without a lot of fun. I've had plenty of time to explore, which is something I've learned to do really well. New Smyrna Beach is a town with more than enough to keep me interested. From golf courses to the nearby sports complex where I run to miles of beaches, I'm glad I chose this place to settle down. I'll write a whole blogpost about the town once I get to know it more, and I feel by that time, I'll be packing up my things and preparing to move on. For now, I have a Super Bowl Sunday with my grandparents in Dunedin to look forward to--a two day break from the farm that at the very least seems well deserved. Though we all wish the Patriots were still in the running, I'm excited to see the game and to see my grandparents. Should be fun!

Sunset on the beach