<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8" standalone="yes"?>
<rss version="2.0" xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom">
  <channel>
    <title>Kikuyu on Pin High Press</title>
    <link>https://pinhighpress.com/tags/kikuyu/</link>
    <description>Recent content in Kikuyu on Pin High Press</description>
    <generator>Hugo</generator>
    <language>en-us</language>
    <lastBuildDate>Wed, 29 Apr 2026 00:00:00 +0000</lastBuildDate>
    <atom:link href="https://pinhighpress.com/tags/kikuyu/index.xml" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml" />
    <item>
      <title>Riviera Country Club: A Course That Asks Different Questions</title>
      <link>https://pinhighpress.com/posts/riviera-country-club-course-profile/</link>
      <pubDate>Wed, 29 Apr 2026 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      <guid>https://pinhighpress.com/posts/riviera-country-club-course-profile/</guid>
      <description>&lt;p&gt;There is a particular sensation a player gets the first time they walk onto a Riviera fairway, which is the sensation of standing on something that does not quite feel like grass. The kikuyu that has covered the fairways since the course opened in 1926 sits up under the ball in a way that bermuda and bent and rye and fescue do not. It produces a fluffy, slightly cushiony lie, the kind that makes a six-iron feel as though it has more loft than it does, and that catches the leading edge of a wedge in ways that the modern professional has had to relearn each February for the better part of a century. Riviera turns a hundred this year. The kikuyu is older than the asphalt of Sunset Boulevard. The course has been asking the same questions of professional golfers for the entire run of the Genesis Invitational and the Los Angeles Opens that preceded it, and the questions have not noticeably softened.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
    </item>
  </channel>
</rss>
