So, I finally dragged myself over to the Lakes at El Segundo the other day. Heard a bit about it, you know, people talking. Figured, why not? Gotta do something besides stare at the walls, right? It’s not like I was expecting Augusta or anything, just a place to swing a club and maybe not embarrass myself too much.
Getting there was, well, it was a drive. You know how it is around here. Seemed like everyone else decided to go out too. Found the place easy enough, parking wasn’t a total nightmare, which was a good start, I guess. Walked up to the main area, and it’s pretty much what you’d expect. Lots of green, folks in their golf gear, that thwack sound of clubs hitting balls. Standard stuff.
My Big Golfing Adventure (Sort Of)
I’m no pro, not by a long shot. My swing is probably what you’d call… unique. Got myself a spot at the driving range, grabbed a bucket of balls. The first few, woosh, topped ’em. One nearly dribbled off the mat. Felt a few eyes on me, or maybe I was just imagining it. You know that feeling? Like everyone’s a PGA scout when you’re just trying to make contact.
The mats were a bit worn, not gonna lie. And the balls? Seen better days, some of ’em. But hey, they flew. Eventually. Started getting a bit of a rhythm. Some went straight, some went… well, let’s just say they explored different parts of the range. The “lakes” are there, yeah. More like big ponds, really. Didn’t lose any balls in ’em, so that’s a win in my book. Did see a couple of ducks that looked like they were judging my form. Bold little fellas.
It wasn’t super crowded when I was hitting, which was nice. Didn’t feel too rushed. Some folks there were serious, you could tell. Others, like me, just knocking ’em around. The vibe was pretty chill overall, I’d say. No one bothered me, I didn’t bother anyone. That’s how I like it.
What I Reckon About It All
Needed a drink afterwards. The little snack bar area was okay. Grabbed a soda. Watched people practicing their putting for a bit. They’ve got a short course too, I think. Didn’t try that. Maybe next time, if I’m feeling brave. Or if someone drags me along.
So, what’s the final word from my little trip? It’s a place. It’s a driving range. It’s got some water features they call lakes. You can hit golf balls there. That’s pretty much the long and short of it. Don’t go expecting some life-changing experience. It does what it says on the tin. Paid my money, hit my balls, and went home. That was my Saturday.
Would I go back? Yeah, maybe. If I get that itch to just whack something and don’t want to drive too far. It’s not fancy, but it gets the job done. Sometimes, that’s all you need, isn’t it? Just a straightforward spot to do your thing. Nothing more, nothing less. And honestly, after a week of nonsense, just hitting a few balls, even badly, felt pretty decent.
