Munis From Heaven?: Two courses defy the odds on the Jersey Shore, but one's better than the other

Howell Park

COLTS NECK, N.J. - Muni remains a dirty word in some corners of the golf world. It brings up visions of fairways as well kept as the lawn of that neighbor who apparently never learned how to mow. Weeds gone wild, grass gone scorched, greens gone concrete hard, you name it, there are munis that got it. Sports Illustrated's Rick Reilly hit the bestseller list just by playing off those supposed muni attributes a few years ago.

Let's face it, stereotypes die hard. Especially in the strait-laced, tradition-bound, time-tested game of golf. Which makes what is happening in New Jersey all the more remarkable.

Hominy Hill and Howell Park — two courses owned by Monmouth County, two courses without a profit-seeking, millionaire corporate backer, two munis really — keep consistently getting rated among the Top 5 public courses in the state. Golf Digest places them in the same 4½ (out of five) star rarified air as Ballyowen, Pine Barrens and Blue Heron Pines West — a royal trinity of carefully-plotted, celebrity-designer, big-money machines.

They have nothing on the munis.

To found out how that's possible and to maybe finally erase some of those everlasting muni preconceptions, it's time to head to the Jersey Shore.

The New Mold

Duc Nguyen considers himself lucky to live in Morganville. Not because the Atlantic Ocean and some of New Jersey's most wonderful boardwalks are always a 10-minute drive away. Forget the ocean! Nguyen considers himself blessed because Hominy Hill is in his backyard.

As a resident of Monmouth County, Nguyen gets to play this reputed Top 5 New Jersey course for $29 a round (20 percent less at twilight).

"It's so well kept,'' Nguyen says. "It makes you feel like you're on an exclusive, private course. Only all your buddies can get in.

"Even the crazy ones.''

Step to the first tee and it is easy to see why Hominy Hill is one muni that will never be called a muni. Eight bunkers greet you, including four nestled around the green. Right off it is obvious this is a course that will reward precision. Robert Trent Jones forces the golfer to make shots to targets in this design. Just getting it in the vicinity is not enough.

Feeling good about your swing through seven is like feeling good about scaling Everest at base camp. The challenge is only beginning. The par 4, 435-yard eighth, the one with the narrow green surrounded by bunkers, was long ago dubbed the toughest in the county.

"It's two tough shots just to get it to the green,'' says Allon Tabak, a 24-year-old from nearby Marlboro, N.J.

Tabak's played Hominy Hill over a hundred times. He's still not sure he's found the right plan of attack for No. 8.

Water only comes into play on three holes at Hominy, most devilishly at the 197-yard, par-3 11th. You must clear a nice-sized stream right off the tee. Leave the iron just a little short and you'll be chipping out of the deep bunker that's right past the water and right in front of a postage stamp green.

This being a muni, you will see golfers of all ages and skill levels, taking their best swings. Whether it's a group of corporate buddies chewing on cigars as they make the turn or a local women's college team, Hominy Hill attracts one and all.

The 17th is the hole that draws them all for much more benign reasons. Nguyen loves the setting, almost talking poetically about the joys of teeing off there at sunset with the light reflecting off the water behind.

No time to wait for the sun now though. There is another course to play. Thankfully, it is a short drive to Howell Park Golf Course, a quirk of golf geography giving us these two gems within 12 miles of each other. It is easy to be fooled by the sheer ordinariness of the route to Howell Park, passing by a large public high school and over a little bridge, which on this day has two teenage boys fishing off the end of it. Then suddenly, there it is, a golf course smack dab in the middle of suburbia.

Not All Equal

Howell is sister to Hominy in name only. It turns out that 10 minutes changes a lot. Most of the joy found at Hominy seems to be replaced by a wariness at Howell. The golf ranger — that's what they call everyone in the county system — who accepts your tee time barely grunts in acknowledgement.

Later when a grounds crew member sees someone taking notes, his face turns ashen.

"Oh, press,'' the man says. "The groundskeeper's not going to like that.''

This is a muni that almost act like it's a private country club. If you can get past the attitude, see it as part of the show like a rude waiter at an overblown French restaurant, the course itself will not disappoint.

No. 3 is one of those holes that stay with you. You'll be talking about this one with your buddies for months. Or reliving it in your golf nightmares. It's a 404-yard par 4 with a fairway that does an almost 180-degree sharp turn. You have to hit it to the far right to avoid a monster bunker in the dip and then turn around and hit to the far left to reach the green.

And getting to the green is only half the battle. Howell Park is known for its fast, slopping greens, greens that can make your golf ball look like a Mini Cooper whipping around the narrow streets of Rome.

"You have to take the time to read them,'' Russ Meade, a Howell regular, says. "And then read them again.

"There's never a straight putt.''

Howell is not a beautiful course in the traditional, wow sense. But it makes use of its natural landscapes in pleasing ways. There is just something about having to carry shots across an actual river (the Manasquan) rather than a man-made lake that is extremely satisfying.

Of course there is also something frustrating about seeing your Titleist floating away down a river as well. Something the devotees that munis like this create
perfectly understand.

"My buddy bugged me to play golf for years,'' the 46-year-old Nguyen says. "I always told him that golf was for old people and I'm not old. I played tennis and
windsurfed instead.

"Once I took up golf, I didn't do anything else.''

Nguyen laughs.

Just another muni golfer? Maybe some stereotypes do ring true.

The Verdict

It turns out even the very best munis range on a wide scale. Hominy Hill ($66 weekend for nonresidents) and Howell Park ($56 weekends) carry similar green fees, but there is no question which is the better value. If you are going to play one of the two, go with Hominy. It's more challenging, ultimately more satisfying. Howell Park seems to be overcompensating, relying on tricked up greens to make up for an often ordinary layout. Only Howell's No. 3 and No. 13 equal the best of Hominy, or Jersey's other top five.

If you're paying for a round, you deserve decent service, county-owned public course or not. They are still competing with privately owned courses with the works after all. Hominy delivers that service, Howell does not.

With 138 bunkers, Hominy Hill is sure to test your chip shot sooner or later. Its par 4s offer a good variety of challenges. The one disappointment is its proximity to the ever-encroaching Jersey sprawl. Its signature eighth hole abuts the lawn of a two-story blue house. If the homeowner turns on his sprinkler, he could flood the green of Hominy Hill's best hole.

Places to stay

An added benefit of these courses is they stand only a 10-minute drive from the Atlantic Ocean and Jersey Shore summer life. There are numerous bed and breakfast inns to choose from, with the Sandpiper Inn ( (732) 449-6060) and Sea Crest By The Sea ( (800) 803-9031) in Spring Lake standing as two of the surest bets.

Places to eat

To catch the beautiful people who couldn't quite make the Hamptons check out Clark's Landing ( (732) 899-1111) in Point Pleasant. It offers everything from burgers to three-pound lobsters with a water view. For local seafood, it's hard to beat Whispers ( (732) 974-9755) in Spring Lake.