Introducing Paired Up at the Muni

Introducing Paired Up at the Muni

Our dogs have no idea.

We have two small mutts that my girlfriend, Mia, quite literally rescued off of an interstate a decade ago. To them, today is a normal Thursday. For us, it’s anything but that. Our house is in disarray, resembling more of an Amazon distribution center than a primary residence, and our stress level is at an all-time high. As we pack, I look at our dogs with a tinge of jealousy towards their naiveté that their lives are about to be upended in a few days.

But coupled with the stress is excitement to start a new project, a new journey and quite possibly a new life because on Sunday, Mia and I—and our two pups—will pull out of our driveway in a Sprinter Van and not return until July.

I’m thrilled to finally introduce Paired Up at the Muni: a 35-state road trip to municipal golf courses, telling the stories of people met through random pairings.

Whew, I’ve waited a long time to click publish on that sentence.

HOW DID WE GET HERE

Paired Up started as an idea in 2018 after a trip to the Canadian Rockies. My dad and I were paired up with a random couple at Banff Springs, widely known as one of the most beautiful golf courses in the world. The day featured wild changes in weather, including sunshine, high winds, spurts of driving rain, drastic drops in temperature, and sunshine again. Although it still holds a place in my wildest round rankings, the part of the round we couldn’t stop talking about afterwards were our random playing partners, Herb and Jill. To this day I could tell you details about their life without looking back at any notes.

That’s when it hit me. You can chase bucket-list courses, buy all of the new apparel and shoot your lowest scores, but the thing you’ll remember most from every round are the people you’re paired with. The people are the most unique aspect of any course, so in late 2018 I launched Paired Up to tell their stories.

Now, let’s fast forward a bit.

The year was 2019, three years ago on your calendar but 15 years ago emotionally, and I was on the brink of turning 30, desperate for a disruption to my repetitive—albeit comfortable—daily routine. That’s when I came across a podcast that hit me square between the eyes.

The host talked about how there are two costs associated with disrupting the status quo: the cost of going and the cost of staying. For those who set out to do something new, there’s obvious cost there. You may wonder why you put yourself through this, heading into a territory where there aren’t boundaries where they used to be. This can be extremely lonely, and the people who are back in your old safe system might be thinking you’ve lost your mind. “Why all this cost?” you might wonder.

The higher cost, however, isn’t paid by going, it’s the cost of staying behind. Of course there’s cost in leaving and trying something new and putting yourself out there—maybe even the loss of a job, a paycheck, friends, and so on. But staying behind and not pursuing the path where you feel the life and energy? There’s cost there too, and that cost is your life, vitality, and soul. Don’t pay that cost, the host implored.

A week before that podcast I had just returned from a trip to the Pacific Northwest where my dad and I played a round at Chambers Bay. Even though the course remains as one of my favorites, the most memorable part of the round still to this day are our playing partners Brian and Eric. 

The week after the podcast I had to attend a week’s worth of training at my company’s headquarters in the suburbs of Indianapolis. Midway through the week I spotted a two and a half hour gap on the calendar before dinner, which in golf terms equals a quick nine and a shower’s worth of time. I searched for the nearest course and found Zionsville GC, the suburb's nine-hole muni. Perfect, I thought, plenty of time.

I was thirty minutes late to dinner.

Not due to slow play, but rather getting lost in conversation in the parking lot with the two women I was randomly paired with that had just returned to the U.S. after spending a decade as missionaries in China. It was in that sun-scorched parking lot I realized that the most interesting people aren’t necessarily at a Chambers Bay or a Banff Springs—they’re right here at your muni. 

And that’s when this project was born.

I spent the rest of 2019 plotting and planning Paired Up at the Muni with a plan to leave on my birthday the next April. 2020 was going to be my year. Then the weirdest thing happened…

Although 2020 and 2021 were a wash with COVID and then shoulder surgery, the idea of the trip wouldn’t go away, playing on a constant loop in my head.

The last hurdle to clear was convincing Mia, who I had started dating in 2020, to go with me. The sales pitch didn’t sound great in my head…

“Hey, you know how things are going really well in our relationship? Well, what if we moved into a 20-foot vehicle for four months and shared one toilet that pulls out of a drawer? Which drawer, you ask? The one below the fridge.”

Her first words were, “I’m not using that.” Luckily, she was on board with the rest of my plan, and here we are today, ready to pay the cost of venturing into the unknown.

The Route

The first way I describe the route to someone is that we’re taking a loop around the country, then I remember that not everyone has been obsessively studying at our nation’s major highways since 2019, so here it is in more detail…

On Sunday, March 20th, we leave Nashville and make a quick stop in Chattanooga before finishing the day in Atlanta. After that is the Florida swing of Jacksonville Beach, Winter Park, and my hometown of Lakeland. Then we’ll point the van due west to San Diego with stops in every state in between. We’ll work our way up the west coast to Seattle, then head east through Idaho, Montana, South Dakota—areas I’ve never been—before stops in Minneapolis, Madison, Milwaukee, and Chicago. 

After the Windy City we’ll work our way through Detroit, Cleveland, and up to Niagara Falls before reaching the coast in Portland, Maine. Finally we’ll head back down the east coast as far as Charleston, South Carolina before turning back towards home in Nashville.

35-states in what I believe to be three-to-four months, or until we lose our sanity. Whichever comes first! By the end we should earn millennial platinum status for engaging in #vanlife.

THANK YOU FOR THE INVITE

Is there a phrase in the golfer’s dictionary uttered with more envy than, “How’d you get on there?” Even when first meeting, two golfers will offer up their favorite courses in conversation like a prized bass on the wall for all to see. “Well, I didn’t find the 16th at Cypress Point too difficult of a tee shot…”

Would I like to play Cypress Point? Yes. Would I like to play your private club that’s in a town I’ll be stopping in. Of course, but that’s not what this trip is about. If you’re looking for golf outlets beating their chests about the caliber of courses they’re going to, you’re in luck, there are plenty—just not here.

This project is about the people. And where do you find the people that actually inhabit those towns? The local muni. So while there will be other fabulous golf courses in the area, I will have to turn down any and all invites to stay true to my mission of showcasing the people and telling their stories.

That said, not all munis are created equal. Torrey Pines, Chamber’s Bay and Bethpage are all technically munis, so I will be playing some well-known tracks. But I’ll spend the majority of my time at the scruffy-but-lovable local ones in random pairings.

OUTCOME

As of today, I’d like to make a book out of this trip. Think Humans of the Golf Course, but minus the copyright infringement. That idea may change as we go, and I’m open to whichever format this best finds a home. For now, the best way to follow along for daily photos and updates will be through my Twitter and Instagram: @pairedupgolf.

I’ve had many side projects over the years—writing, standup comedy, hosting a storytelling night, writing a recap blog of The Bachelor that grew to 10,000 weekly readers (yes, for real)—but they’ve always been just that: side projects. Now, I have the opportunity to pour all of my energy and focus into a project for an extended period of time, and I’m excited to see what it becomes.

HELP WANTED

If you’re wondering which corner of the internet’s webpages appear to have not been touched since the ‘90s, look no further than local government websites. Most of their sites are hard to navigate and rarely tout their municipal courses, while a small minority do a great job of showcasing them.

That said, I’ve spent countless hours of research finding munis in cities all across America and I have a pretty good list, but nothing beats local intel. If you know of a muni on my path that I must play, please comment below, email me, or send me a DM on social media. I’ll share the courses as I go, but never hesitate to jump in with suggestions!

Thank you for reading and engaging with Paired Up. I don’t take your time for granted.

More soon, but first I have two faucets in the van’s kitchen that need fixing. And, of course, dog treats to buy.

Onward.

Paired Up at the Muni: Brainerd Golf Course

Paired Up at the Muni: Brainerd Golf Course

Paired Up with Jack: A Life Lesson from a Smooth-Swinging Five-Year-Old

Paired Up with Jack: A Life Lesson from a Smooth-Swinging Five-Year-Old

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