Minigolf: Big entertainment

Miniature golf defined family vacations for the Jazwieck kids in the late 1950s. Whenever they piled into the car to visit aunts and uncles in Nebraska, Michigan or Florida, they knew their father would pull over at every novelty course they passed.

Edward Jazwieck was a meatcutter by profession. But by 1960, he'd made up his mind to build an 18-hole miniature-golf course on the family's 10-acre Everett spread, already home to a miniature railroad, the Bumblebee Special. He treated his wife and four kids to one more minigolf marathon through California and Oregon, then set to work.

That was the era of wacky courses with lots of moving parts and tricky hazards, such as loops, windmills and tubes that dropped balls into a multiple choice of destinations. Jazwieck's creation followed suit, with obstacles including a 12-foot model of the Space Needle with a metal bar that moves up and down across a golf ball's path.

"He was a very creative man," said daughter Mara Brophy, 48. "He built everything out there. I think it was with an eye toward retirement, that it would be a good supplement. He had a lot of energy, so it was good for him to be building on that and building on the train."

The Bumblebee Special is out of business, its railroad ties rotted through. But Jazwieck's Golf remains open for business as Snohomish County's longest-running miniature-golf course.

Dave Holtgeerts, whose family owns the Rage Cage on the southern edge of Everett, did nearly as much research as Jazwieck before he designed and built an 18-hole course behind the business's batting cages several years ago.

For two years, he photographed and played on minigolf courses everywhere he went, including Palm Springs, Calif., Las Vegas and Atlantic City, N.J. But he found the look he wanted closer to home, at the Icicle Junction recreation center in Leavenworth, Chelan County.

Instead of building obstacles like Swiss chalets in the middle of his greens, Holtgeerts chose the more modern, naturalistic model for miniature-golf courses. The only barriers are rocks and boulders he handpicked at Iron Mountain Quarry near Granite Falls, and the brick-lined greens are contoured with bumps and curves.

Kayak Point Golf Course takes that style to an extreme, with an 18-hole putting course used by serious golfers as well as families looking for inexpensive entertainment. It's the county's only miniature-golf course with professional, real-grass greens, which range from a par-2, 25-foot hole up to the par-5, 100-foot 18th hole.

Instead of the din of batting cages — staples of several local minigolf businesses — Kayak Point players are regaled by songbirds.

Monroe golfers Ron de Lisle and Tom Langston, who sampled the putting course last week, said they don't mind sharing the greens with children. It's a good way for young people to acquire golf etiquette, they said, and to learn how to putt on uneven surfaces.

"It's the boys and girls who are the next golfers — bring them on," de Lisle said.

The peaceful, wooded setting can have a calming effect on kids who tend to race through the pop-culture, urban minigolf courses.

Funtasia Family Fun Park in Edmonds is the epitome of rush-rush minigolf. Kids already revved up from playing video games, bumper cars, go-karts and laser tag tend to dash through the 18-hole course, which is half indoors and half outdoors.

The indoor section has an Aztec theme, with a wall mural, fake statues, and plastic palm trees and cactus plants. The outdoor décor is pirate-based, with a sunken ship in a pond and cannons mounted on a fire-scorched battlement. Like the Rage Cage, it eschews the old-style, kitschy obstacles.

A group of Marysville fifth-graders recently celebrated graduation from Marshall Elementary School with a trip to Funtasia. A mother arranged for a limousine to pick up eight boys and transport them to the recreation center.

Sam Christopher, 11, said he liked the Funtasia course much better than his local course, Big D's. That Marysville course has moving parts, two-level holes and amusing obstacles, such as an outhouse with a pair of sneakers protruding from beneath the door, while Funtasia relies on rocks and tricky layouts.

"I think it's more of a challenge — curves and little bumps. And I like how the balls don't get stuck" by obstacles, he said.

Funtasia-style recreation centers have been the minigolf industry's biggest growth area since the late 1980s, said Steve Hix, executive director of the Miniature Golf Association U.S., based in San Antonio, Texas.

Hix thinks the natural-course trend is a blip on the minigolf landscape. People prefer courses with decorative themes or novelties, he said.

"The overwhelming majority of people don't play miniature golf to practice their golf game," Hix said. "They do it for fun. They like the extraordinary experience; they like a spin on their everyday life."

It's a nearly recession-proof business, Hix said.

"Miniature golf is an icon on the American landscape. People think of miniature golf, and they get a little grin. Where else can you spend five bucks for 45 minutes of entertainment?"

Diane Brooks: 425-745-7802 or dbrooks@seattletimes.com