Charles and I headed north to Muskoka at daybreak. Sera, our better third, had to withdraw from today’s round so she could accompany her mother to a doctor’s appointment. We criss-crossed the backroads outside of Toronto as Charles toured me through Canadian farmland and fall colors. Puffy white clouds added to the spectacle. We had a 10:30am tee time at Rocky Crest Golf Club located on the shores of Hamer Bay. Rocky Crest is a parkland course, meaning it winds through thick tree stands. I knew the Autumn leaves were going to be extraordinary and I had a hopeful feeling that my game might be equally dazzling. I hadn’t made a bogey in my final 12 holes at Paintbrush the day before and had settled on a swing thought that I believed in. All the variables felt like they were coming together for a breakout round. I was like a surfer catching the perfect wave–riding the crest–but instead of getting barreled, Rocky Crest put me over a barrel.

We were welcomed in style, which is always the case when one rolls with Charles. He knows everyone and everyone knows him, which creates an air of friendliness and familiarity. Chris, the Director of Operations, and Matt, the Head Professional, made this visiting American feel right at home. We had a few laughs, headed to the range for a quick warmup, and received a great overview from the starter. The first is a gentle opener–a 470 yard uphill par 5 that slides left to right. I got both cheeks into my tee shot and slapped a four iron to the front edge for a fairly routine birdie. I made solid pars at 2 and 3, followed by a soft bogey at #4. It was at the 5th where things began to unravel.

I hit perhaps my best iron shot of the trip to roughly 6 feet. As we strolled to the green, I calmly and confidently took in the surrounding beauty. I was in my 6th country in 5 weeks, I was immersed in the trip of a lifetime, and I was sharing it with my good friend, Charles. In five minutes, I would be back to red figures and launching a birdie barrage for the ages. Instead, I blew my thumbs off on the birdie putt and whistled it 4 feet past. Then I missed the come-backer. The air was out of the balloon. I bogeyed three of the last four to turn in 40. I gave myself a little pep talk and birdied the 10th, made a nice save at the 11th, lipped out a birdie at the 12th, and rolled in a 15 footer for par at the long 13th. But then–for the first time on the trip–I felt OLD.

When the trip started, I had the juice of a Prius. As the rounds have piled up and my body has broken down, my horsepower has dwindled. First, it dropped to a Smart Car. Next, an e-bike. Then to a horse and carriage. Now, I must admit I’m down to a donkey. Not just physically, but mentally as well. The last five holes were a Masterclass in weak, banana-shaped drives, uncompressed, mishit irons, and a sub-standard scrambling game. But the worst part of the show was the putting. I three putted five times on the day and twice in the closing stretch. I couldn’t hole out from 4-8 feet the entire day and turned a likely 72 into a big fat 79.

On the bright side, the course delivered everything I imagined it would. Fabulous foliage. A demanding layout, but fair. I have played 19 courses in the Top 100 on this adventure and I would put the Rocky Crest collection of Par 3’s against any of them. Every single one-shotter was a postcard from Muskoka. Charles and I had a relaxing lakeside lunch in Port Carling and I even did a little shopping. Canada is in my bones now and I have a long sleeve t-shirt and a hoodie to prove it.

Tomorrow we travel south to King Valley Golf Club. Seeing Sera will brighten my spirits and Charles has invited another pro friend to join us. Tonight, I am going to chug a couple of Cranfusions in a last ditch effort to jumpstart my battery for my last two rounds. The brand is “Sandbagger,” which I am not as I have added 2 shots to my handicap since the beginning of the trip!