Every great course has been photographed to death. Ours has not been photographed at all.
Scottish Highlands sits in a glen whose name does not appear in this prospectus, on land reached by no public road.
Guests arrive by light aircraft, weather permitting. The weather does not always permit. Members regard this as a feature.
What follows is everything we are prepared to show you.
The land was already a golf course. We mowed it.
Rolling links turf over old moorland, fescue and heather at the margins, a burn that takes what it is owed. Hole numbers are withheld. You will learn them when you land.
By air. There is no second option.
The briefing
Request the approach briefing below. It contains the aerodrome plates, the weather minima, and the number of a pilot who has landed here before.
The approach
Coordinates are released to your pilot the day before, once the forecast holds. If it does not hold, you wait. The course has waited ten thousand years; it can wait for Tuesday.
The landing
Eight hundred yards of mown grass and a windsock. Someone from the lodge will be standing at the far end. They will take your bag. They will not take a photograph.