I’ve walked Alabama’s [tag]Robert Trent Jones[/tag] Golf Trail, sampled Louisiana’s Audubon Golf Trail, and even explored the [tag]Lewis & Clark Golf Trail[/tag] in North Dakota. Each was worth the effort, offering good and sometimes [tag]great golf[/tag]. [tag]Golf trails[/tag]–marketing alliances uniting courses that would otherwise be competitors–are perfect for a restless [tag]golfer[/tag] like me.

I decided to make my way through the [tag]central highlands of Florida[/tag], the state’s hill country of horse ranches and cattle farms. That’s the real Florida, the inland one–far removed, I thought, from plastic pink flamingos and the purple hairdos who plant them (although I would soon discover there’s no escaping either in a state where, despite being a senior citizen myself, an awful lot of residents call me “young fella.”) I took out a road atlas and plotted a general course. I would start somewhere around [tag]Tampa[/tag] and wander northeast to J[tag]acksonville[/tag].

click here for article