Finally, for those of you who enjoy your shower after riding in a cart for five hours and perhaps have the occasional cold one afterward, consider this: Imagine how good it feels after a three-hour route march through a blizzard over mountainous sand dunes. (Yes, three hours! Golf is supposed to be exercise.)
After an invigorating lukewarm shower in a freezing cold, spartan locker room (the shower feels roasting because your body temperature has fallen to 40 degrees), there is no better feeling in the world than cozying up to the warmth and intoxicating scent of a peat fire, holding a hot Irish whiskey filled with brown sugar and cloves.
You can gaze out the rain-lashed window at thewindswept links that has just kicked your ass and succumb to the gradual warming as you descend into that age-old euphoric trance that says,
Now that, my friend, was a real round of golf!