WORDS BY EVAN SINGER • IMAGES BY DYLAN BLOCH

My most recent trip to Sand Valley started like many other golf getaways—four friends, scattered across the country, finally making time for something we’d talked about for years. But from the moment we arrived, I felt the energy of the place. It was different. The prehistoric sand dunes of central Wisconsin, the vastness of the landscape, and the calm. Maybe I wasn’t just here for the golf? Maybe there was another reason.

The first day on the course, I was ready to compete, but something unexpected happened. Instead of focusing on my game, I noticed the joy on my friends’ faces. For them, this was their first trip to a Dream Golf destination, and it felt like taking your kids to Disneyland for the first time. I got more enjoyment from seeing their excitement than worrying about my score. Rather than getting caught up in my swing, I let go and simply enjoyed the moment. We weren’t just golfing—we were playing, like kids again.

The next morning, I woke early, before my friends, and took an abbreviated walk along a nature trail. I was walking 36 holes a day so I couldn't overdo it. But I felt like I was being called to the trails before the world woke up. I watched the grounds crew preparing the course and listened to the birds. There’s something about early mornings in a place like this that feels cleansing, like nature asking me why I don't do this more often.

But as much as I tried to hold onto the calm, I slipped into old habits. After a strong start on the next round, I began focusing on the score, wanting to "go low." By the time we finished, and I had a score much higher than I would've ever expected, I wasn’t frustrated with my game—I was disappointed in myself for forgetting why I was there.

Later, I reset. A light stretch and 15 minutes in my Normatec compression legs (a godsend for any golf trip), followed by an impromptu barefoot grass tennis match, helped me refocus. Shifting gears reminded me of the moments I’d overlooked—the ones in between the rounds, the conversations, the laughter and experience of my friends. It helped bring me back to the reason I came: to enjoy the ride.

I found that same sense of renewal in the cool waters of Lake Leopold. A dip after a long day shed a layer of tension I didn’t even realize I was carrying. The trip wasn’t just about golf—it was about reconnecting with nature, with my friends, and with myself.

On the course, I paid attention to the world around me in new ways. I felt the wind, noticed wildflowers along the fairways, and watched birds glide overhead. Golf became more than just a game; it was part of the larger experience of being present in that place.

As the trip wound down, one night found me sitting on the 18th fairway at Sand Valley, gazing at the stars. The vast Wisconsin sky stretched above me, the Milky Way cutting across it. It was impossible to worry about a missed putt under that sky. It felt timeless, a reminder that those little frustrations meant nothing in the grand scheme of things.

We spent our nights debating favorite holes and shots, laughing about the day. But what I’ll remember most isn’t the golf—it’s the time spent together, knowing that these moments will become the "good old days."

Sand Valley changed me. Not because of how I played but because it taught me to appreciate the moments when the game fades and life takes over. It wasn’t about perfecting my swing or chasing a score. It was about being present, appreciating my friends, and letting the experience unfold.

It’s funny how life works. You come for the game but stay for the moments in between. The golf was beautiful, but the memories I hold closest aren’t from holding a club. They’re from when I stood still and let the world move around me.