Course "restoration": true or false? (Golf).

I think "restoration" is creeping up on "links" as the most overused and least understood buzzword in golf. More and more, golf clubs of a certain age are advised--by a variety of architects, amateur design enthusiasts, and media types--that they have an obligation to "restore" their courses. But what does that word really mean? As more and more older clubs consider course changes, it's important to separate the reality from the rhetoric.

Contrary to what some might think, true restoration is impossible and, in my view, largely undesirable--even if a club is fortunate enough to have the original architect's working plans. Here's why: If one were-to totally and strictly restore a golf course to its original 1920 form, for example, the results would appall today's golfers. "True" restoration of the sort advocated by today's self-appointed design "purists" would, among other things, mean:

* Cutting greens to roll at five on the Stimpmeter because, even though there was no Stimpmeter back in 1920, that's how slow the putting surfaces played back then.

* Clearing 90 percent of the trees, as most of today's 80-year old parkland courses were originally laid out on markedly-open terrain.

* Disconnecting 95 percent of a course's irrigation system, because only the putting surfaces would require regular watering.

I think you'll agree that most members would burn down the clubhouse and run the superintendent, general manager, and green committee chairman out of town if these sorts of measures were implemented. Yet this is what true restoration would involve.

So the next time you hear some purist talking about "authentic" restoration, understand (even if he doesn't) that all vintage restorations are hybrids, i.e. the taking of classic design elements and reconciling them with the modern game and modern expectations. This is the reality, and everyone who belongs to or administers an older golf or country club needs to understand this.

The architects we now revere as "classic" practitioners were no fools. When greens rolled at 5, they incorporated tons of contour into their putting surfaces--way more than is feasible to reproduce today, when modern bentgrasses allow greens to Stimp at 11 and 12. By the same token, bunker placement (among other things) was geared to sites as they existed back then, when there weren't as many trees.

Consequently, "restoring" a club to its original 1920 form isn't a black-and-white proposition. It's a highly interpretive process. It's not as simple as digging up the old plans and following them in a paint-by-numbers way--if it were, you wouldn't need an architect.

I prefer the phrase "practical restoration" because it implies the truly important factors: 1) That classic or vintage features be restored where they've been lost to time and/or misguided green chairmen from decades past; 2) That certain modern expectations--such as green speed, irrigation, and maintenance--be smartly reconciled with the re-implementation of these classic features; and 3) That an architect be asked to use his creativity and practical knowledge to work with clients in achieving points 1 and 2.

Allow me to describe a few "practical restoration" projects we have ongoing here at Lohmann Golf Designs, as each illustrates the points I'm trying to make:

* Lohmann Golf Designs (LGD) is currently conducting a bunker renovation project in suburban Chicago at Midlothian Country Club, whose course dates back to 1898. It was designed by H.G. Tweedie, who laid out the original courses at Exmoor, LaGrange, Bryn Mawr, and Rockford. Midlothian has a problem common to many designs of this vintage: Trees have grown up between the playing corridors, minimizing the impact of its fairway bunkers--many of which are obscured partially or entirely by the forest. In fact, the Chicago District Golf Association has indicated to Midlothian that its course rating will never be accurate (i.e., go up) until these bunkers are brought more into play.

A "true" restoration of the Tweedie design would require restoring the bunkers to their original state. But we don't have his plans or vintage course photos. Sadly, there is no H.G. Tweedie Society (unlike the purists of Donald Ross) to provide blanket assertions on what a Tweedie bunker should look like. So, even if we had all this information, a true restoration would require the felling of more than 800 trees on this gorgeous property. That simply isn't going to happen.

What is going to happen? Our master plan, compiled after five years of consultation with the club, calls for the fairway bunkers to be moved closer to the fairway and renovated in a vintage, flat-bottomed, grass-faced style.

Is it a "true" restoration? Not at all. Is it a practical and sympathetic restoration? We think so:

* We're conducting a similar project at Crystal Lake Country Club, a 1920s-era design from George O'Neil and Joseph Roseman, located near our offices in Marengo, IL. This is another layout totally overgrown with trees. We've taken out 30 so far, width plans to remove more. We're also bringing the fairway bunkers back into play, a la Midlothian--not into the middle of the fairway, but more "in play."

We do have some vintage photography for Crystal Lake, so we'll be creating bunkers that correspond closely to this historical record. In all, we'll rebuild 60 bunkers: moving some, rebuilding others where they lie, and reviving still more which had been abandoned altogether.

Now, these are the sorts of measures that would make some purists howl with indignation, but they seem to us the most practical design solution. And the club is at peace with these compromises. We're also expanding several putting surfaces back out to their original shapes and sizes.

LGD's sister contracting division, Golf Creations, is cooperating with the club on construction. We broke ground in October and expect to conclude the project some time in 2004.

* Our recently completed project at Knollwood Country Club outside Detroit is another example of the sort of compromise and flexibility inherent to renovation/ restoration work today. This is an 80-year old golf course of unknown origin (some believe it's a Ross, but I'm not convinced). No original plans. No vintage photography. Nothing.

In any case, the routing as it exists today poses some fairly serious safety concerns. Several years ago, LGD proposed a master plan that involved rerouting several holes to alleviate the safety issues; and rebuilding Knollwood's bunkers, which had taken on a flashed-sand style that was not very attractive and a nightmare to maintain.

Well, the club couldn't stomach the idea of rerouting its golf course. It's 80 years old, after all; as architects, we understand that people can become very much attached to their golf course. Our master plan was never approved, though members did approve part of it: They retained LGD to "restore" and/or relocate some 48 bunkers.

During the fall of 2001, working with the contracting firm of Phillips & Jordan, we replaced the flashed faces with sod-rolled faces. The style is classic; the look is undeniably dramatic. These new, flat-bottomed bunkers are more maintenance-friendly from a sand perspective (no sand to push back up onto those faces each morning), though the sod faces do require more turf maintenance from the superintendent and his crew.

Perhaps the most frustrating thing about today's purist restoration movement, if we could call it that, is its lack of practical understanding. It holds that club members who opt for anything but "pure" restoration (conducted by a select group of anointed architects) are ignorant philistines. By the same token, any architect who conducts anything but a "pure" restoration is just as boorish.

In fact, some would say that architects are expected to walk away from a project, on principle, if the client course opts for something other than pure restoration. The real world of golf design is much more complex than that. Practical considerations of safety, maintenance, and--above all--the wishes of the client, should be taken into consideration. And any architect who doesn't recognize that probably SHOULD walk away.

Bob Lohmann is principal of Lohmann Design Associates, a Chicago area-based golf course design firm. He is a past president of the American Society of Golf Course Architects.