Courtesy: BBC

My thanks to Golfblogger for the inspiration for today's post.

Golfblogger spotted a piece in the Economic Times, an Indian publication, about snow golf.

The author says he first played snow golf in St. Moritz (lucky man) where they hold an annual World Snow Golf Championship.

He also writes that there is now a kind of tour for snow golfers, some of them even professionals like Constantino Rocca from Italy and English golfer, Lee Slattery.

The story reminded me of my first and only snow golf experience. But first, allow me to dispel two myths: (a) snow and ice do not exist in Canada year round - except in the High Arctic and global warming is taking care of that - and (b) Canadians are not fond of playing golf in the snow. So we don't.

But on this particular occasion, it was a worthy cause; a fund raiser for charity in the city of Toronto.

Organizers laid out a nine hole "mini-course" over a muni course in the middle of the city (for those who know the city, it was in Etobicoke's Centennial Park). A major beer company - of course - was one of the sponsors and there was plenty of hot chili and rolls afterwards.

The snow golf event occurred this particular year in February. The author of the piece in the Indian newspaper comments that snow golf is "exhilarating and challenging". And it certainly is when there's a wind chill of -20, the temperature on the day we played.

I and a couple of neighbors ventured out to the first tee. Roy (I haven't bothered to change the names. There are no innocents to protect) formed a tee out of a mound of snow and set his orange ball upon it. The first hole was a straightaway 150 yard par something-or-other.

In the distance, perhaps 200 yards away, was a line of townhouses typical to Toronto: brick facing on the lower half, aluminum siding on the upper half. A man was standing out on his balcony watching the "action" and likely wondering at the sanity of those involved.

Anyway, Roy takes his 7-iron, usually his 130 yard club, and sets up to the ball. Roy's swing was never pretty but this time he found the sweet spot on both the club face and the ball.

Despite the ambient air temperature turning breath to ice crystals, that ball took off like a rocket. We instantly lost sight of it in the light grey haze of the winter afternoon.

"I've lost it", muttered our other neighbor, Bob. "Me too", I added. "Shit" proclaimed Roy, a look of disappointment on his face.

Suddenly, there was a loud crack and the guy on his balcony dropped like he'd been shot.

Roy's 7-iron had sailed well past 150 yards, over the snow green, and still accelerating, had slammed into the aluminum siding right beside our spectator's head.

It took us all a moment to figure out what had happened and then we started to snort and giggle like kids in church. Soon we were howling so hard tears were streaming down our faces and freezing around our chins.

When we got some control over ourselves, it dawned on us just how far that ball had traveled in sub-zero temperatures, belted by an old 7-iron off a snow tee with a wonky swing. We couldn't believe it.

The rest of the round was anti-climactic. But that one moment, on the first tee, I shall never forget. That, for me, is snow golf.