I was reminded today of a mildly auspicious event happening in exactly one month’s time, the opening on December 18 of the Ritz-Carlton, Dove Mountain north of Tucson, Arizona, in the foothills of the Tortolita Mountains.

Admittedly this event probably wouldn’t mean much to me if I hadn’t toured the hotel—which was nothing more than a construction site and girders—last August. At the property’s expense, I had come out to see the new Jack Nicklaus golf course, which was undergoing its final prep before the PGA Tour arrived to give it their blessing in anticipation of the Accenture Match-Play event a few months later. I was able to play the course—early in the day, thankfully, as it gets pretty damn hot in Tucson in August—and witness the work going on literally underfoot as everyone worried about the upcoming inspection.

As you know by now, the Tour came out, the course received its blessings, the tournament was held, the players complained about Jack’s greens, Geoff Ogilvy won (collecting $1.4 million), and Jack came back a few weeks later to soften the course in anticipation of next season’s event, to be held February 25-March 1.

I liked the course—wide fairways, desert washes, gently rolling landscape, and funky greens. And it didn’t take a genius to realize that the putting surfaces were the only protection it could throw up against the world’s best players. But I thought a little roller-coaster putting action among the cacti would make for good match-play and good television. Because even at something like 7,400 yards, making it the longest course on Tour, it was too wide open and too devoid of hazards—except for the random stray into the desert—to bother those guys. Indeed, they came, they played, they whined, they won. We’ll see how it goes next winter.

Now what I want to see is the hotel, which opens next month. Travel around the country or the world and it’s hard not to like Ritz-Carltons. They know what they’re doing. And while they have only a few golf properties, they’re good ones: Reynolds Plantation in Georgia; Kapalua, Hawaii; Half Moon Bay, California; Lake Las Vegas; plus a few others in this country and overseas.

What I liked about the Dove Mountain hotel is its location, tucked so tightly into a box canyon that you can almost reach out the window and touch the rock walls. There will be three restaurants, a pool with a 235-foot-long water slide, and a spa. Also numerous hiking and equestrian trails that will let visitors get up-close to artifacts and petroglyphs (discovered during construction) of the Hohokam Indians who lived in the hills 2,000 years ago; plans were to protect the remnants while leaving them in their original habitat. Sounded cool to me.

And I want to visit the hotel, shown above (and at this site), in a finished state—with walls and beds and such.

Finally, if you’ve never had the pleasure of being coddled Ritz-Carlton-style, a little story. Yes, I know, I was there as their guest and as a member of the fourth estate, so it was in their best interests to be nice. But this took the cake: As the pro and I approached the ninth green, a welcoming party waited—the general manager, marketing director, a few other suits, and a guy wearing an Augusta National-like white caddie jumpsuit and holding a big insulated box. After putting out, we walked over to chat and were informed that lunch was served: The caddie opened the box to a feast—Double-Doubles and fries from In N Out Burger, undoubtedly the finest fast-food chain anywhere (and a personal obsession of mine, as they had been informed). Say what you will, it was smart, fun, and classy in a lick-your-fingers sorta way.

And proof once again that the way to a man’s heart—or in this case, his pen—is through his stomach.

Course photograph by Jim Mandeville