A "winning" (Parade) and "well-conceived" (TheNew York Times) account of one teenager's solo trek to play golf in each of the lower forty-eight states--"two parts coming-of-age story, one part golf travel adventure, and one part survival test" (Golfweek). Shortly before his freshman year of college was set to begin, seventeen-year-old Dylan Dethier--hungry for an adventure beyond his small town--deferred his admission and, "like Jack Kerouac and Ken Kesey before him, packed his used car and meager life savings and set off to see and write about America" (ABC News/ Yahoo). His goal: play a round of golf in each of the lower forty-eight states. From a gritty municipal course in Flint, Michigan, to rubbing elbows with Phil Mickelson at Quail Hollow, Dylan would spend a remarkable year exploring the astonishing variety of the nation's golf courses--and its people. Over one year, thirty-five thousand miles, and countless nights alone in his dusty Subaru, Dylan showered at truck stops, slept with an ax under his seat, and lost his virginity, traveling "wherever the road took him, with golf as a vehicle for understanding America" (The New York Times). The result is a book that "would be considered fine work by any writer, let alone one so young" (Maine Edge).
A "winning" (Parade) and "well-conceived" (TheNew York Times) account of one teenager's solo trek to play golf in each of the lower forty-eight states--"two parts coming-of-age story, one part golf travel adventure, and one part survival test" (Golfweek). Shortly before his freshman year of college was set to begin, seventeen-year-old Dylan Dethier--hungry for an adventure beyond his small town--deferred his admission and, "like Jack Kerouac and Ken Kesey before him, packed his used car and meager life savings and set off to see and write about America" (ABC News/ Yahoo). His goal: play a round of golf in each of the lower forty-eight states. From a gritty municipal course in Flint, Michigan, to rubbing elbows with Phil Mickelson at Quail Hollow, Dylan would spend a remarkable year exploring the astonishing variety of the nation's golf courses--and its people. Over one year, thirty-five thousand miles, and countless nights alone in his dusty Subaru, Dylan showered at truck stops, slept with an ax under his seat, and lost his virginity, traveling "wherever the road took him, with golf as a vehicle for understanding America" (The New York Times). The result is a book that "would be considered fine work by any writer, let alone one so young" (Maine Edge).
