Fifteen kilometers of jammed traffic.
That's when I realized the enormity of what I was about to experience.
It was 2002, and I was heading to my first major championship - The Open at Muirfield. What should have been a quiet drive through the Scottish countryside had turned into a parking lot of cars, buses, and limousines.
After crawling through the small town of Aberlady, we finally made it to Gullane - essentially a golfing town famous for its three courses and the big hill that rewards golfers with million-dollar views across the links land.
School children were playing on the small pitch-and-putt course, completely oblivious to the fact that the world's greatest golf tournament was being staged just a kilometer away.
Everyone else was marching down Gullane's narrow streets through the increasing Scottish mist with one objective: Muirfield.
After departing with 35 pounds for a day ticket (and another 30 for an umbrella - I had it for years until someone stole it from my golf bag), I was ready for what would become an experience that changed my entire approach to golf.
The first thing that strikes you at Muirfield is the rough.
Watching on television doesn't do it justice. In some spots it's six feet tall - not thin and wispy, but thick, wet, and impenetrable.
Looking down the course from the first tee, you can see the fairway meandering to the right. The objective is simple - the same for all golfers, on all courses, in all circumstances:
Hit the fairway.
Miss the fairway at The Open, and you're praying one of the many ball spotters can do their job.
At first, it seemed unfair to see champion golfers hacking their ball sideways from this rough. But after spending an hour wandering around those diverse holes, I began to appreciate this form of golf.
It was so different from anything I'd experienced.
Muirfield is a short course compared to most of today's championship venues. There seemed an overall fairness to it. Long hitters could take the risk, hit driver, and have a massive advantage with a short iron to the green.
But miss? Who knows what could happen.
Shorter hitters weren't disadvantaged by lack of length. Everyone could reach the greens in regulation without needing fairway woods.
It appeared that course strategy and overall skill would play the biggest part - rather than guys just blasting the ball and wedging it onto the green.
This was golf in its purest form. Natural. Strategic. Honest.
But what I discovered on that practice fairway changed everything I thought I knew about golf instruction...
That story - and the revelation that transformed my entire coaching philosophy - is coming tomorrow.
To better golf (the natural way),
Cameron
P.S. I can't believe this happened 23 years ago - it truly only seems like it was last year.