I’m not sure what’s worse — forgetting where those infamous Pocatello speed dips are before nailing one at 30 mph, or playing disc golf in the wind.

    After yesterday’s episode of tossing discs and having them limp through the air before a gust carries them 50 feet in the opposite direction, I’m going with the latter.

    But the margin is narrow — oh my goodness how I hate those speed dips.

    I grabbed my discs, threw them in my handy-dandy NutSac (the disc golf bag my father bought me with the hilarious name) and took to Blackfoot Disc Golf Course.

    Now I have four discs: Two distance drivers of different styles, a mid-range and a putter. The discs all vary in weight and size, but the circumference is exactly the same. The distance discs have more beveled edges, while the putter has a duller edge. This allows for long drives that you can really zip for tee-shots, and stability and control for short, accurate putts.

    But with the wind howling like it was, there wasn’t a whole lot of stability, control or accuracy. In their place was a haphazard frustration that hinged somewhere between irritability and rage.

    But you can bet your buttons my disc golf skills are much improved over my opening experience a couple months ago in my inaugural Josh’s Adventures, where I wrote, “And when I lined up my shot, I promptly threw my disc into the street.”

    So I walked briskly through the course, not taking more time than I needed to. It wasn’t necessarily cold, but the wind made it uncomfortable. I pared the first hole before making a bogey on the second. I would’ve pared the third too had I not bounced my disc off the top of the basket from five yards away.

    You know when you’re sitting at a red light in Pocatello for what seems like an eternity-and-a-half, there are no cars and you’re growing impatient? That’s what it feels like to ping a disc off the top of the basket. And then when the embarrassing moment comes right after when you unceremoniously set the disc in the basket, it’s just like when that light turns green for you. It’s like, “Yeah I should feel good about being able to go, but I shouldn’t have had to stare at that red light for three minutes.”

    The wind died down a little bit in the fourth hole, which was a good thing, because standing between the tee box and the basket was a giant tree.

    There are two primary ways throw a disc. There’s the backhand, which is your more traditional method. Then there’s the forehand, and that motion kind of looks like a sidearmed quarterback or pitcher. I prefer the forehand because I feel like there’s more control. But both styles tend to come in handy depending on the situation.

    In this case, I elected the forehand. I gave the disc a little push upward, which tilted it slightly to the right. The disc flew to the left before curving beautifully around the tree as it arced back toward the right. After two more tosses, I had my second par.

    The rest of the course was rather uneventful. But my final tee shot on the ninth hole was peculiar. I threw hard toward the basket. As the disc rocketed straight, a burst of air abruptly sent it up, almost violently. Just as soon as it hit its apex, another gust sent the disc plummeting back to the ground.

    I ended up bogeying that final hole as well, leaving me with a score of +9. Not great, but I’m confident the wind had a lot to do with it. And I’ve convinced myself that’s what the average player scores in real golf, so I’m not too hurt about it.

    As the temperatures around Southeastern Idaho drop, leaves begin to fall and the sun shows itself a little less. It’s a reminder that the transition between summer and winter goes by in a flash. So take it while you can, because pretty soon, I’ll be swapping these discs for snowballs.

    Have an idea for Josh’s adventure next week? Comment on Josh’s blog at idahostatejournal.com