Beautifully landscaped golf course plus has an excellent restaurant located onsite (I recommend the Patty Melts)!!

Yummy burger meat, just needed seasoning. Salt shaker on table rained salt out of the holes, so be mindful when seasoning your own food.

Great forgiving golf course. New owners and they seem to be putting great work into it! I laughed when I saw the review that said “challenging” because it’s a completely flat course with switchback fairways so for most of the holes you can have a bad hook/slice and still be playable. That for most golfers like myself find that to be a good thing though😂 It’s definitely a great course though and the best value you can find in Redding for inexpensive but quality golf.

So I call for a tee time and I’m a single player, they tell me they won’t book a tee time for a single player because the weekend is too busy. I understand that but the next available tee time was in 30 minutes so they weren’t booked up. I would understand it even more if I had called the day before for a Sunday tee time and I received that explanation. Regardless I show up to just putt with my son and when I get there the parking lot is half empty, on group two on the tee box and nobody waiting. I stay til past 9:50, when the next tee time was available and only one other group went out. I head out to the parking lot and it’s still half empty. This isn’t the first time this has happened but it will be the last. I rather play a junk course like churn creek if this is the business that Tucker is offering.

As the sun descended over Anderson, California, casting a golden-pink haze across the parched foothills shrouded in smoke, I found myself once more at Club Tucker, a humble 9-hole course tucked between airport runways and swaying utility lines, where the echoes of laughter and mis-hit drives linger like ghosts among the trees. This is not Pebble Beach. It is not Augusta. It is something else entirely—something more elemental. The fairways, once riddled with dry scars and gopher mounds, now show signs of healing. Grass clings with modest defiance to the California soil, and the greens—yes, the greens—have undergone a quiet resurrection. They used to be borderline war crimes—patchy, lumpy, like putting on a thrift store bath mat. Now? They've grown up a little. Not Augusta-fast, but consistent. You can actually read a line without consulting a shaman or flipping a coin. It’s like watching an old friend quit cigarettes—still rough around the edges, but something's changed. You can see that there's hope. The layout of Club Tucker is unassuming yet beguiling. Open and forgiving fairways sneak around towering creaking oaks. Each hole asks not for perfection, but for presence—for an awareness of the wind, the slant of the sun, the way shadows creep across the fairway like time itself. It is not long, and it is not punishing. It is, instead, honest. At sunset, Tucker becomes a theater of solitude. The light fractures across the pond at hole five, turning algae into stained glass. Crows caw above. Somewhere in the distance, a child laughs, a dog barks, and the world continues, indifferent and beautiful. You stand over your ball, not to conquer, but to commune—to ask a question of the land and hear its quiet reply. Club Tucker isn’t fancy. It doesn’t apologize. It doesn’t need to. It’s real. The layout is clever without being cruel, the turf is returning from the brink, and the greens? The greens are whispering a comeback story. There is something deeply human in this place called Club Tucker. It was once flawed. But through sheer perseverance, it is improving. And I think it will persist. And in that, perhaps, it is perfection. Five stars