GoFund Me 👉🏼 Here
Just beneath the brooding crown of Mt. Whitney, sits a rad 9-hole golf course that has been through the wringer—and then some. Lots of drama and deferred maintenance. And now? A last-ditch shot at revival.
Welcome to the Mt. Whitney Golf Club: where the greens are a bit burnt out and the fairways need some love, but the clubhouse bar is still slinging ice-cold beers and a really good time.
No, this ain’t your bougie country club with salmon-colored polos and $18 Arnold Palmers. No collars here but a cowboy hat may be required. And in reality this course is super fun and anyone who has played it, will tell you exactly the same.
The Scrappy, Swamp-Drained Dream
Before it was a 9-hole desert oasis, the Lone Pine golf course was just a soggy cow field—and a dream. Back in 1958, a rogue crew of local golfers and business owners decided they’d had enough of driving to Bishop just to chase a little white ball around. So they did what small-town legends do: they made their own course.
Officially, the Mt. Whitney Golf Club started as a nonprofit—unofficially, it was a passion project fueled by grit, borrowed bulldozers, and probably a few cold ones. The crew scored a lease on land near Diaz Lake with help from a cooperative local rancher and, surprisingly, the Department of Water & Power of Los Angeles (a rare W for DWP).
But the site was a swamp—literally. So they drained it. By hand. With a dragline donated by the Columbia Southern Chemical Corporation. And when that wasn’t enough? Doris Emley and Wm. Bonham rolled in with their own bulldozers. Joe Bonham of Inyo Builders threw in all his equipment. It was dusty, dirty, DIY determination at its best.
To design the course, they called in the big guns: Bob Baldock, a golf architect out of Fresno known for turning rough land into playable art. Under his watch, Lone Pine’s scrappy swamp started to become a legit golf destination.
Then came the clubhouse. But building one from scratch wasn’t in the cards—until Father Kaane came through like a saint with a back nine. He offered up the old Catholic church from Keeler, and the crew hauled it in. Just like that, the clubhouse was born.
This wasn’t just a golf course. It was a community moonshot—built not with corporate cash, but with favors, faith, and a lot of dirt under the nails. And nearly 70 years later, you can still feel that energy in every slice, every BBQ, and every sunset over the fairway.
The Rise and Faceplant
Mt. Whitney Golf Club was a local gem. Michael Jordan used to rent this place for a week at a time. But since covid, the grass faded, the funds dried up, and like a bad swing on a windy day, it all started to go sideways teetering on the edge of being swallowed by tumbleweeds..
Enter the Eastern Sierra locals
People here care. Not in the performative, hashtag-laden way—but in the we’ll-fix-the-sprinkler-system-with-a-pipe-wrench-and-hope kind of way.
A new board formed with old Inyo County D5 Country Supervisor Matt Kingsley at the helm who we know will do right by this club.
Bishop represent. Tawni Tatum, a 5th generation rancher in Owens Valley, owner of her family’s 100 year old Bishop Creek Pack Station, and former player on the LPGA tour and teaching pro.
Shout out Mammoth. Founder of the radical gem of Mammoth, Disabled Sports, business owner, and passionate golfer, Kathy Copeland is not only bringing her leadership to the board—but also personally matching donations dollar-for-dollar up to 100K.
Patrick and crew restoration work between March and May.
More Mammoth fam. Enter Patrick Bernard and crew. Founder/CEO of Mammoth Lakes Youth Hockey, a small business owner and seasoned golf industry professional. This dude grinds, since his entrance the course has been greening up every single day.
What’s next
A hella lot of hardwork. Starts with a BBQ next Sunday. Please come swing-ish your club, have a drink, eat some BBQ and spend $25 on a raffle take that may when you a free year membership.
From Scrubland to Sacred Grounds
The plan isn’t just about golf. It’s about pride. Reclaiming a community space. Building something sustainable. The kind of project where you start small—fix the greens, repair the cart barn, keep the taps flowing—and grow from there.
They’re imagining summer movie nights. Maybe night golf under portable lights. A stage for music. Maybe some yoga on the fairway? Yes, the green is still a lil crispy. The carts need love. But the heart is pumping.
Want In?
You can buy a raffle ticket. Rent the bar for a birthday. The clubhouse bar is rentable. The RV spaces out back are up for grabs. Sponsor a hole. Donate toward the green and irrigation rebuild. A gofund me is here… every single dollar counts:
Or just show up and swing a rusted 7-iron with your friends while drinking cheap beer and laughing your ass off.
Because in Lone Pine, this isn’t just golf. It’s a love letter to the land, the people, and the absurd beauty of trying to save something when everyone says walk away.
Come hang out!
