Scholl Canyon Charting a New Course : Analysis: New layout can be intimidating, but it is a definite improvement over old configuration.

No doubt about it, Scholl Canyon Golf Course is to golf what Picasso was to painting.

Eclectic, weird, an acquired taste. Strange angles, wondrous sight lines.

Bring extra balls, a sense of humor and a seat belt to the first tee. Quirky Scholl, situated atop a panoramic bluff overlooking Los Angeles, Griffith Park and the Santa Monica Bay, is a wild ride, but may not be for everybody.

Designers managed to squeeze 18 executive holes into approximately 60 acres. In some places, they used a shoehorn. In others, a bulldozer.

Scholl is only 3,039 yards long from the men’s tees and none of the six par-four holes measure more than 324 yards. In short, because it’s so short, Scholl is great for the ego. But for some, it’s bound to be tough on the psyche.

Because it’s carved out of a former landfill site and packs more peccadilloes per hole than most public courses in the area, Scholl will be difficult for many beginners. Novices and high-handicappers, though, are destined to be Scholl’s primary clientele.

“For the beginner, it’s pretty challenging--maybe too challenging in a couple of places,” said Brian Bode, the head pro. “But this will give them a taste of what to expect (on a regulation course).”

Chow down, folks, before word gets out and it’s overrun by hordes of hacks. With weekday green fees of $14, it’s a pretty good deal.

A month after the course reopened, a foursome of Valley guys teed off at 7:24 on an idyllic Sunday morning. Best news of all: There was nobody in front of or behind the group and the round took a scant 3 hours 15 minutes.

It was quick, but not necessarily painless. Some assert that the place is named after Dr. Scholl. Any golfer who drags a bag up the mountain from the 11th green to the 12th tee will need a podiatrist, not to mention an oxygen tent.

“I’m a smoker and it damn near killed me,” said Kelly Magee of Montrose.

While the front nine has its entertaining holes, it’s relatively non-threatening. The fun and topography really begin at No. 12.

The hill to the 12th tee is so steep that the cart path includes a series of switchbacks. For those on foot, plans call for an elevator to be installed in February, Bode said. The setting at the top is spectacular, which means some players will be afforded a great view of their ball as it falls off the planet.

The 13th hole marks the beginning of Scholl’s Amen Corner, whittled from a 20-acre parcel that was added to the previous site. Amen isn’t what some folks will be muttering, though. Far from it.

* The 13th is a 289-yard par-four, a slight dogleg-right to an elevated green carved from the side of a cliff. Because of the severe slope of the fairway, dozens of players spent time retrieving tee shots that rolled sideways into the 15th fairway, which parallels the 13th. Kind of dangerous.

An 18-inch figurine of an owl sits atop a wooden post behind the green. Who designed this thing? Who?

v “You can reach (the green off the tee), but you have to fly the ball about 270 yards,” Bode said.

Uh, no problem.

* The 14th is an obnoxious little par three of 108 yards. The rock-hard green, approximately the size of a spilled Budweiser, again is sculpted from a cliff.

The green, in fact, is a virtual island surrounded by thick, twisted shrubbery, rocks and relocated topsoil.

“Miss the green and you’re dead,” Bode said.

No kidding. A sign posted by the green warns that rappelling down the hill in search of lost balls may carry the ultimate penalty--rattlesnakes inhabit the area. How steep is the cliff around the green? A wooden railing had been placed behind the green to keep anybody from taking an involuntary header. This hole has everything but calliope music.

* The 15th hole, a 252-yard par four, is almost as funky. The fairway slopes steeply to the right, where a precipice again awaits the wayward banana ball.

The course finishes with three easy--if mundane--par threes, none longer than 125 yards.

Nothing startling there. In all, there are nine holes of 127 yards or fewer, which means anybody who can hit a wedge and make a putt will leave a trail of scorched earth in his or her wake.

Scorched earth, of course, is pretty much what Scholl was in its landfill incarnation. The course, demented or not, is a definite improvement.