Leaving the world behind at a golf resort unlike any other.

I could wander the world for my entire existence and never find anywhere that looks like Streamsong. I’m quite convinced that the way in which the ground moves there is unlike anything else on earth. Streamsong is both a man-made scar upon the planet and a naturally beautiful setting for golf. It’s through that lens of yin and yang that I am continually captivated by this remote golf destination in Florida.

Streamsong is a golf resort that should not be. It’s location and its environment are unnaturally forced into existence. Everything about the place arouses my sense of curiosity and shows me that there are still places on this planet that are unfamiliar and wild.

What has been built at Streamsong is a modern marvel and a testament to the mindset made famous by the character of Ray Kinsella. Streamsong is just as remote and visually jarring as a baseball diamond in a cornfield, but unlike that famous playing surface from the movies, the idea of golf belonging in this place is barely believable.

The golf experience at Streamsong is somewhere between a safari and a walk on Mars. The dunes of sand rise from the flat earth of Florida and tower to heights that provide unparalleled views in the state. There are finger lakes that look like snakes from above the dunes and they plunge to dramatic depths not far from the edge of the courses. There are hills and swales and the sky seems never-ending. The sun is glaring and brilliant and you can’t help but feel closer to it there than you do anywhere else on earth. All of this exists around an abundance of wildlife that includes dangerous reptiles, ravenous boars, and soaring birds of prey that readily remind you this is really their land.

Streamsong takes everything you know about golf in Florida and flips it on its head. There are no condos overlooking fairways and you couldn’t be further from a beach in the state. You won’t find palm trees or paved cart paths either. The golf is set in sand from ancient sea floors and the courses are firm, fast, and fun. It’s pure golf and it’s on a grand scale. Streamsong offers three courses, three world-class designs, that are an escape from the world you know.

Although Streamsong lacks views of the ocean or of mountains in the distance it does have sweeping scenes of the Florida sky. To those on the ground, the clouds seemingly go on forever. The billowing veils of vapor will spark the imagination of even the most stubborn of daydreamers as the formations vary in shape, size, and intensity. The golf at Streamsong is played between the sand and the sky and when you walk the fairways there, you can’t help but watch the clouds dance by.

Streamsong is remote, but the accommodations there create an experience that continues to receive national accolades. Make no mistake, Streamsong is a first class resort, but it is also a transformative destination that will forever change how you evaluate potential golf trips. For all these many reasons, I keep getting pulled back to Streamsong.

I return to the resort not to rest, but to retreat from the realities that bind me to my home, my phone, and my everyday existence. I don’t have to let go at Streamsong, I am simply gone.

Streamsong exists because its owners, the Mosaic Company, needed a creative way to reclaim thousands of acres after decades of phosphate mining. Phosphate mining leaves the earth barren and over-saturated with sand. That is how Mosaic left the land at Streamsong and the sand stretches for as far as the eye can see. The sand is useless material for most economic functions, but perfect for golf.

The executives at Mosaic decided to try an expensive and risky development strategy rather than face the full costs of reclaiming the land they disrupted. Mosaic built a golf resort and in doing so they hired the world’s best golf architects to devise two golf courses that could attract visitors despite the desolate location. The bet paid off.

Today, Streamsong has recently opened its third golf course and even in the warmest of months, the resort stays booked to capacity. Golfers are flocking to the far reaches of the Florida peninsula to find a place that can transport them away from everything else they have ever known.

Mosaic chose arguably the greatest teams of golf architects alive today to design its first two complementing courses. The Red course is designed by Bill Coore & Ben Crenshaw and it wraps its way through the landscape in an intertwining fashion with the Blue course, a design by Tom Doak and his associates at Renaissance Golf. The courses are sisters and last year Streamsong debuted their younger brother, the brawny, big, and decidedly more edgy Black course designed by Gil Hanse. Together, they form one of the most tremendous triumvirates of golfing grounds to grace the world in one place. They are three siblings who all have wildly different personalities, yet share the obvious genealogical traits of being sired by one of the most strangely beautiful properties in America.

Each of the three sibling courses at Streamsong offer a unique golf experience. The Red course is the most daunting off the tee-box and every shot requires some strategic thinking to navigate a hole in the least possible shots. The Blue course has incredible views with wide and generous fairways that feature rolling contours that run right into the greens. Then there is the Black course where the holes are large in scale and the endless bunkers cut right into the most interesting set of greens in America. The designs are all modern masterpieces in completely different respects and as a collection they form a living museum dedicated to golf’s new golden age of design.

When I walk the corridors of golf at Streamsong I am transfixed by the magnitude of the dunes and the endless supply of sky. My mind drifts to an unfamiliar place in which my worries seem to have floated away like the clouds above me. My cell phone has no service and by that point I don’t have much need for it. My feet move from grass to sand and back to grass while my eyes are wide open and capturing the majesty of this Martian landscape. I am living like Shivas Irons, simply at large in the world.

It’s easy to obsess with the experience, but Streamsong is best observed as a painting from afar. It is difficult to recognize the degree to which I disengage from the world until I have to return to it after my stay is complete. It is in that reflection that I have the ability to properly gauge the depths of my escape. In those moments I can visualize the elements of Streamsong with clarity.

I see the windmill in the distance of the Black course, the waves of grass on the dunes of the Blue, and the mountain of sand that frames the finale of the Red. I can feel the tiny grains of sand shifting in my shoes and the sun radiating on my body. There is sweat on my brow and the ground is firm yet filled with movement. Even after I’m gone, Streamsong stays with me.

I believe that the reason I feel compelled to return to Streamsong yet again is that each time I go I leave a small piece of my mind behind. I come home, but not completely. Those memories and the small pieces of my consciousness that have stayed at Streamsong call out for me to come back. They are constantly asking me to consider my next escape and knowing me it won’t be long.