Golf Hacker's Heaven Alabama's Robert Trent Jones Trail
By Bruce Schoenfeld

(FORTUNE Small Business) – I think of myself as an itch golfer, as opposed to a scratch golfer, because I pick up a set of clubs only when I get the itch. A scratch golfer plays often enough to get good at the game, while I tee off about twice a year. I figure I'll take a nice walk and drink in the scenery that looks so spectacular on television.

The problem is, when you can't get a drive more than a foot off the ground, they're not letting you in at Augusta. (If you can't even identify a scratch golfer, see our bluffer's guide on page 104.) Hackers like me usually end up on courses named Hardtack Heights or Parkway Links, the kind with crusted brown fairways and chainlink fences that border auto repair shops.

Which is what makes Alabama's Robert Trent Jones Trail such a radical departure, at least for me. When I teed off on the Mindbreaker course at Silver Lakes in Glencoe, I was so astonished I almost missed the ball. Ahead of me was a vista of genuine beauty: emerald green fairways, manicured rough, and groves of old-growth trees. (I got a second look too, on my next shot, thanks to my puny, 40-yard drive.)

Silver Lakes is one of the trail's eight courses, all public, spread over the length of the state and designed by Robert Trent Jones Sr., the most famous course designer ever. Merely stepping onto a Trent Jones course is a thrill, like stepping into the batter's box at Fenway Park. Beyond aesthetics, these courses are made to welcome all levels of golfers, right down to the five tee boxes, color-coded for easy reference. From the teal tees, Silver Lakes' par-5 first hole is 344 yards away; from the purple tees, it's a formidable 546. "We don't have demeaning terms like ladies' tee or seniors' tee,'' says Anthony Land, golf director of Silver Lakes. "You pick the tee you want based on how far you generally hit the ball.''

So there's ample opportunity for the kind of strategic dilemma the pros confront on TV. Time after time, I found myself so close to the pin yet so far. If you miss a green, you might be looking at a 20-yard shot, says Brad Shirley of Oxmoor Valley, "but you'd be perched on the side of a hill like a billy goat."

Before the trail opened in 1992, this warm-weather state had few public courses and no golf tourism--or tourism of any kind. It was the inspiration of David Bronner, who runs the state workers' retirement fund, that a chain of handsome courses could draw money and tourists, and even update Alabama's reputation for exclusionary policies that dates back to the march on Selma. In fact, the trail got me to spots I'd never have sought out. I ate superb barbecue at Pruett's in Gadsden, saw the Hank Williams Museum in Montgomery, and listened to farm reports on local stations as I navigated the back roads.

Some of these courses rank among the best places to play in the U.S. Unlike many public courses, these have handsome clubhouses with vaulted ceilings and serviceable restaurants. Even better, they're affordable: about $40 to $70 a round, including cart fees, compared with $250 fees at some resorts and with country clubs that won't let most golfers in at any price.

As I watched my golfing partner--a real golfer--bend over a 20-foot putt, it struck me that I can now enjoy the game almost as much as he can. Set me down on the trail, rent me some clubs, and I won't be pining for Augusta.