Columnist Dean Juipe: Wolf Creek may be golf’s toughest test

Dean Juipe

Wednesday, Sept. 5, 2001 | 10:32 a.m.

Dean Juipe's column appears Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday and Friday. His boxing notebook appears Thursday. Reach him at juipe@lasvegassun.com or 259-4084.

There is a price to be paid for playing the most difficult golf course in America, and it requires more than simply digging into your wallet.

It takes patience.

Set foot on Wolf Creek at Paradise Canyon in Mesquite without complete control of your emotions, let alone golf game, and it can turn into an exasperating experience.

"I hate Wolf Creek," one of the guys in the threesome ahead of us said upon leaving the 14th tee the other day. "They don't have to worry about getting my money again."

We understood his lament yet noticed he made the remark not with a heated tone in his voice, but with a smile on his face.

After digesting the entirety of his afternoon my guess is that he is apt to come back even if he initially said he wouldn't, and that fact seemed to be registering with his internal self even as he expressed his outward dismay.

Play is slow at Wolf Creek, which is a legitimate complaint, but it's also slow at similarly winding courses such as the Badlands in Las Vegas. In Wolf Creek's case, the sluggish pace of play is largely unavoidable and is the result of a layout that twists through a steady stream of narrow ravines, canyons and monoliths.

If you haven't yet played Wolf Creek, which opened 11 months ago, it's target golf amid a parade of scenic wonders. It's man meshing with nature for a visual hole in one.

Built at a cost of $50 million, Wolf Creek has a USGA slope rating of 154 (on a scale of 155, with no course listed at the maximum figure) from its back tees. The course record of 67 by PGA Tour veteran Jay Don Blake may never be threatened.

Fortunately, there are five sets of tees and at its most manageable the course plays to 5,820 yards for the middle handicapper. Virtually every shot is played off a cliff, to a cliff, over sand and water, or through a tight formation of one sort or another.

Bring plenty of balls.

The congenial Wolf Creek staff provides everything else, so much so that head pro Mike Stewart was greeting players coming to the 18th tee with cold towels. He said he was "pulling my hair out" about the slow play and asked for any suggestions that might curtail what turned out to be a round that took 5 1/2 hours.

Here's one: Force players, particularly the macho guys who think they can overpower this relatively untameable course from its 6,436-yard tees, to play off the tee boxes that best suit their abilities. For instance, give the starter the authority to insist that a group play from the tees of its weakest member.

"It's difficult to speed somebody up who doesn't hit the golf ball very well," Stewart said later. "You can see what we're running into out here."

If you can spare the time (and the $100 greens fee), Wolf Creek may qualify as the most stunning golf outing of your life. The vistas, bluffs and buttes -- to say nothing of the challenging shots they create -- are almost literally breathtaking.

There's another nine holes opening in November, which would seem to reflect a prosperity at the all-encompassing resort.

It's no easy trick, but Wolf Creek can bring you to your knees in both reverence and submission. It's a place where cross words sometimes come with the territory.