Salmon Run Golf Course

This course is a hidden gem!! Came up to visit from Utah, and this is my favorite course I have played to date. I was very surprised that it wasn’t completely booked out, but it is typically pretty easy to get a tee time. They let my wife and baby ride with me and we got a last minute tee time on a Saturday afternoon and then did 18 the following morning. Most courses have 1-2 “premier” holes, but this one has a ton. Lots of elevated tee boxes. Island par 3 to shoot at. Cliffside par 3. Water/ streams on some holes so you have to strategize how you want to play it. Overall a great course and will definitely be back if I am in the area. Played 9 with the “cart guy” as he called it that works there, Dave, and had a blast!

This course is tucked away in a beautiful natural setting, offering a challenging layout with elevation changes, water hazards, and narrow fairways that test even experienced golfers. The scenic views, especially along the back nine, provide a serene and enjoyable backdrop. The course is well-maintained, and the staff is friendly and accommodating. Whether you're a seasoned golfer or a casual player, this course provides a memorable experience that combines the thrill of the game with the tranquility of nature.

Deep within the remote and brooding wilderness of southern Oregon, tucked between gnarled forests and the winding whispers of the Chetco River, there lies a golf course that feels less like a man-made design and more like a secret unearthed from the folds of the earth itself. It is called Salmon Run, and already in the name, there is something mythic. Something eternal. The movement of life against current. The longing to return home. This is not merely a golf course. It is an ordeal. A verdant crucible where you do not simply play—you are tested. Each hole carves its way through dense forest, flanked by shadows that do not speak but merely watch. You are not alone here. The trees, ancient and indifferent, bear witness to your struggle. The air is heavy with moss and the scent of slow decay. Nature here does not apologize for its complexity—it simply is. The course undulates with a kind of defiance. Fairways bend like serpents, greens hide behind ravines and water traps that seem less like hazards and more like metaphors for mortality. The ball disappears not into bunkers, but into the void. And yet—this suffering is beautiful. At moments, you may hear the salmon themselves, thrashing upriver in their desperate, noble pilgrimage to spawn and perish. What is this if not the very essence of golf? To strive, again and again, with quiet futility, toward an unreachable perfection. You hit the ball not because it will matter in the end—but because to do so is to continue. And still, among the ruin of lost strokes and vanishing sunlight, there is grace. A par scored not with force, but with surrender. A mist rolling over the ninth hole, rendering even the flagstick spectral. The faint trill of a bird echoing through the pines like a question you do not know how to answer. Salmon Run does not coddle the golfer. It unmasks them. Five stars—not for comfort, but for truth.