The Legacy of Hidden Fairways

A look back at a period of my work that continues to shape how I photograph today.

LaFayette Golf Course, LaFayette, Georgia

Hidden Fairways was where all of this started.Before the larger assignments, before the resorts and private clubs, before I had any real idea where golf photography might lead, there were 19 courses and a personal project I created mostly because I wanted to see if I could do this.There was no client. No real pressure. No expectation that I’d make any money.And I didn't.It was simply a labor of love — and, as it turned out, the best kind of education I could have asked for.The idea was to photograph golf courses that rarely received much attention: small-town layouts, overlooked designs, public courses, rural gems, and places most golfers would never see on the cover of a magazine. I believed they still deserved to be photographed with care, and they gave me something equally valuable in return: room to learn.I could experiment. Make mistakes. Get up absurdly early. Stay too late. Follow the light instead of a shot list. Try something that didn’t work and come back the next day to try it differently.That freedom changed everything.It was while creating Hidden Fairways that I really fell in love with sunrise — the solitude, the uncertainty, and the sense of watching a landscape slowly wake up around me. It was also where I began to appreciate happy accidents. Some photographs I initially dismissed turned out, during editing, to contain something I hadn’t recognized when I made them.That taught me to pay closer attention.Before long, I was looking beyond fairways and greens. Trees, weather, wildlife, maintenance details, shadows, textures, and the land surrounding the course became part of the story. I began to understand that a golf course isn’t simply a collection of holes.It's a living landscape.And that realization shaped almost everything that came afterward.

As Hidden Fairways grew, it developed a small but loyal following of golfers, course managers, and photography enthusiasts. That was gratifying, but the real value of the project was happening behind the scenes.

I was learning what kind of photographer I wanted to be.Those first 19 courses taught me to trust my instincts, to give light and weather room to surprise me, and to believe that a photograph didn’t have to be heavily directed to be successful. Quite often, the strongest images came from simply being present, paying attention, and recognizing what the course was giving me.

They also taught me something I still believe today: every golf course deserves respect.

Famous or obscure, private or public, every course represents someone’s vision, someone’s work, and someone’s pride. Over the years, that lesson has only deepened as I’ve worked alongside architects, club managers, superintendents, and countless others who devote enormous care to these places.

The Hidden Fairways website is long gone, but the project never really disappeared.Its influence is in the way I work, the way I chase light, the way I look beyond the obvious photograph, and the way I think about golf courses as landscapes first.

Most importantly, it gave me a chance to dip my toes into a completely different life and see whether it suited me.

It did.

Very much.

Cullman Municipal Golf Course, Hanceville, Alabama, one of my earliest additions to Hidden Fairways.

Keysville, Georgia

Applewood Golf Course

Applewood Golf Course began with a simple idea. In 1996, Chuck and Tina Baer—former corporate accountants—set out to build a place focused on enjoyment rather than prestige. Chuck designed the course himself, routing it across gently rolling farmland outside Keysville, just south of Augusta. Wide fairways, thoughtful bunkering, and a relaxed pace of play welcome golfers of all abilities. For me, Applewood embodies the spirit of Hidden Fairways—a course built with care and pride, where the experience matters more than reputation, and where the simple joy of golf still comes first.

Alma, Georgia

Blueberry Plantation

Blueberry Plantation shows that memorable golf doesn’t need spectacle to resonate. Shaped by the land and guided by a straightforward, unpretentious philosophy, the course rewards patience and attention with long sightlines, simple routing, and a quiet rhythm—especially in the early light of morning. It remains part of Hidden Fairways as a clear example of honest golf, rooted in its setting and focused on the experience rather than the scorecard.

RISING FAWN, Georgia

Canyon Ridge Golf Club

Canyon Ridge first appeared on Hidden Fairways in 2009 as a Rick Robbins design perched high on Lookout Mountain, defined by dramatic terrain, expansive views, and a routing deeply connected to the land. Its later transformation into McLemore stands as a testament to what can happen when exceptional ground is matched with vision, commitment, and care.

oxford, alabama

Cider Ridge Golf Club

Cider Ridge was the first Bill Bergin design I ever photographed, and an early milestone for Hidden Fairways. Set across rolling northeast Alabama terrain, the course balances strategy and restraint, revealing its character gradually. That initial visit began a long professional relationship and marked one of the project’s earliest moments of quiet momentum.

hanceville, alabama

Cullman Golf Course

Cullman Municipal Golf Course—now Cross Creek Golf Course—was one of the earliest courses I photographed for Hidden Fairways. Opened in 1952 and designed by Curtis Davis, it’s a small-town municipal that quietly outperforms expectations. Welcomed by longtime PGA professional Ches Harris, I was able to work freely and thoughtfully—exactly what Hidden Fairways was meant to encourage in those early days.

pinson, Alabama

Cumberland Lake Golf Course

Cumberland Lake is a quietly compelling course outside Birmingham, defined by approachability, thoughtful routing, and a natural fit with its rolling terrain. First photographed during the early days of Hidden Fairways, it stood out for its relaxed rhythm and honest character—golf shaped by land, light, and atmosphere rather than spectacle, and exactly the kind of place the project set out to celebrate.

Photos of Cumberland Lake Golf Coures, Pinson, AL

flat rock, alabama

Dogwood Hills Golf Resort & Gardens

Dogwood Hills is inseparable from its owners, Bryce and Doris Slater, whose love for the game led them to build a course of their own in rural Alabama. Designed by Bryce and shaped patiently by a true family effort, the course reflects care, humility, and perseverance. It remains part of Hidden Fairways as a quiet example of golf created not for recognition, but for belief.

fairburn, georgia

Durham Lakes Golf Club

Durham Lakes wasn’t intended as a Hidden Fairways course—but it’s where everything began for me. These images mark my first experience photographing a golf course, long before photography became a pursuit or a profession. Shot simply because the moment called for it, this gallery represents the quiet starting point of a path that would eventually define my work.

fargo, georgia

Fargo Golf Course

Fargo Golf Course is about as far from polished as a golf course can be, and that is exactly its appeal. This humble nine-hole layout winds through the pine forests of South Georgia with no known designer, no architectural pedigree, and no ambition beyond providing a place to play. Maintained entirely by members of the local community, Fargo reflects a rare, communal spirit—golf shaped by the people who love it rather than by presentation or prestige. That honesty, informality, and sense of shared ownership are what made the course linger with me long after I left.

green river, utah

Green River State Park Golf Course

Green River State Park Golf Course was the final and farthest assignment I photographed for the Hidden Fairways project, and it marked a subtle turning point. Although it began as a straightforward golf course shoot for Utah State Parks, I found myself increasingly drawn to the surrounding landscape, particularly a railroad bridge crossing the Green River near the third green. Photographing and including that image alongside the course work signaled a shift in how I was seeing—less focused on documentation alone and more on how a course exists within a broader place.

fargo, georgia

Hidden Meadows Golf Course

Hidden Meadows was a course I was sure I’d enjoy playing—though I never actually did—but it left a lasting impression nonetheless. Set in the rolling hills southeast of Birmingham, it occupies beautiful, naturally contoured land that gives the course its character: engaging, demanding, and unapologetically unpolished. Designed by Mike Young and run as a family operation by the Pricketts when I first photographed it in 2009 and 2010, the course felt cared for rather than curated. I returned simply because I liked it—rough around the edges, honest in its intent, and memorable for offering good golf on good land without pretense.

Cordele, Georgia

Ironwood Golf Club

Ironwood Golf Course, photographed in 2009 and 2011, marked a turning point in how I saw light, timing, and the role photography could play beyond simple documentation. That understanding deepened in 2011, when Stephen McIntosh purchased the course after seeing my photographs of it. When he later told me the images had played a meaningful role in his decision, it was the first time I fully realized that photography could help someone see possibility in a place, not just record it.

Lafayette, georgia

LaFayette Golf Course

LaFayette Golf Course is a long-standing public course in LaFayette, Georgia, with roots in the 1930s and a 1992 expansion by Arthur Davis. I photographed it in 2009 and 2010 and found it well designed, well maintained, and thoughtfully run. There’s no pretense here—just good, accessible golf that serves its community exactly as a municipal course should.

Townsend, Tennessee

Laurel Valley Golf Club

I photographed Laurel Valley Golf Course in 2010 and fell for it almost immediately. Set in the foothills of the Smoky Mountains near Townsend, Tennessee, the course feels calm, grounded, and quietly dramatic. Designed by Ed Ault and opened around 1990, it occupies beautiful mountain land that encouraged you to slow down. Soft fall light, cool air, and a welcoming staff shape the experience. Laurel Valley isn’t about polish—it's about place, and that stayed with me.

blairsville, georgia

Old Union Golf Club

Old Union was one of my favorite discoveries from the Hidden Fairways years. Designed by Denis Griffiths and tucked into the North Georgia Mountains near Blairsville, it opened with ambition and promise despite challenging timing and a remote location. I photographed it in its first year and recently played it again—proof that time hasn’t softened it. It’s still demanding, still smart, and unmistakably a Denis Griffiths course.

sparta, tennessee

Riverwatch Golf Course

RiverWatch in Sparta, Tennessee, marked one of the most encouraging moments in my Hidden Fairways journey. Designed by Peter Jacobsen and Jim Hardy, the course stood out for its scale, ambition, and strong sense of place, but what mattered most was belief. RiverWatch put up my first billboard along US Highway 70, giving my work real-world visibility. That moment signaled that Hidden Fairways was resonating beyond the website—and it has stayed with me ever since.

elberta, alabama

Soldiers Creek Golf Club

Soldiers Creek Golf Club—also known as The Preserve on Soldier’s Creek—is a public course tucked into the coastal lowlands near Elberta, Alabama. Designed by Scott Clark and opened in 2001, it favors wide, playable corridors and approachable golf. What stayed with me was its sense of quiet isolation: no houses, no resort clutter—just golf through timber, wetlands, and native landscape. It wasn’t pristine, but that suited the place. It looked genuinely fun to play.

Westminster, south carolina

The Trails at Chickasaw Point

The Trails at Chickasaw Point never tried to impress me—and that honesty is exactly why it stayed with me. Tucked just off I-75 near Lake Hartwell, it functions less as a showpiece and more as a shared community space. The course showed wear and lacked polish, but it carried something more meaningful: genuine pride and daily use by the people who live there. It was valued, lived in, and woven into the rhythm of the neighborhood.

trenton, georgia

Trenton Golf Club

Trenton Golf Club, tucked into Georgia’s far northwest corner near the Tennessee line, is the kind of place that doesn’t call attention to itself but lingers in your memory. Opened in 1994 and once known as Air Castle, it has always operated as a public course serving its local community. When I visited in 2009, what stood out wasn’t polish but honesty—quirky, demanding holes, welcoming people, and a sense of pride that felt genuine. That authenticity is exactly why Trenton earned its place in my Hidden Fairways journey.