Creek Island Loop

sighs in direct-to-VHS quality Loading your horror show stats...

The Tape Boots Up 📼👻

The fog machines are glitching, the trail cams are live, and the Chaintrix has rebooted for Simulation #3: The Flare Witch Project @ Roots—a 9-week descent into VHS-laced survival horror disguised as a Tuesday night league. Thirteen Claimants stepped onto the tranquil fairways of Roots Disc Golf Course, where golden-hour light filtered through the trees like corrupted film grain and the Jordan River whispered static. The weather? A deceptively calm 45.5°F, cloudy, with wind barely enough to rustle a glow tape strand. But don’t be fooled—this wasn’t a peaceful round. This was the first frame of a cursed tape, and someone was already rewriting the playback.

Claimants Storm the Simulation

The RAD division didn’t play—they invaded. From the first drive on Hole 1, Bryant Adams wasn’t just competing; he was overwriting the simulation. He stormed to a wire-to-wire victory with a 1011-rated round, finishing 7.6 strokes under field average—a margin so wide it triggered the arena’s emergency recalibration protocols. Eric Pearson and Skyler Kunz mounted resistance, trading birdies like encrypted signals, but Bryant’s precision was unbreakable. He didn’t just flirt with the course record—he vaporized it, leaving scorched code in his wake. The Claimant hierarchy has been breached, and the apex predator wears a tag that hums with distortion.

Archivists: The Quiet Rebellion

While RAD burned bandwidth, the RAE division waged a silent war of attrition. Ian Dahlen Flor emerged victorious in a battle where par was the victory condition. This wasn’t a demolition—it was a data heist. Lead changes flickered like dying cam feeds, and every hole was a solo mission. Eight players carded at least one solo birdie, but only Ian had the nerve to chain them into a winning sequence. In a division where survival meant staying under the radar, he didn’t just avoid erasure—he logged his name in the metadata. The quietest rebellion often leaves the loudest echo.

Preferred Rank: Under Siege

RAF was the battleground where hope and hypothermia collided. Abraham Vidinhar clawed his way to victory in a division where every stroke felt like a system error. But the real drama belonged to John Springer, the rookie whose debut was less “arrival” and more “survival horror protagonist.” He traded leads like encrypted keys, surviving bogeys and near-misses with the composure of a man who knows the tape always rewinds for the weak. The final cash spot changed hands three times in the back nine—each shift marked by a flicker in the neon grid. They didn’t win clean. They won scarred.

Stats So Hot They Glitched the Feed

Let’s talk data—because the PDGA Live servers are still smoking. Bryant Adams didn’t just play well; he broke the model, jumping 83 rating points after his 1011 performance. That’s not progression—that’s a firmware update. Skyler Kunz surged 59 points, proving his earlier slump was just a corrupted save file. Eric Pearson bounced back with a death-putt birdie on 17, reminding everyone that resilience is tracked too. And across the board? Four bogey-free nines logged in a single evening—each one a quiet act of defiance against the simulation’s entropy. Players who track their throws on PDGA Live aren’t just building stats—they’re building alibis for when the system accuses them of cheating.

The Pot That Never Pays Out

$356. That’s the current balance of the Super Ace Pot—a cursed vault growing heavier with every near-miss, every chain-rattling roller, every disc that flirted with the basket and then ghosted it. No aces. No CTPs. Just silence, and the slow, ominous tick of compounding disappointment. The Flare Witch isn’t collecting discs—she’s collecting hope. And she’s not done yet. Next week, the pot hits $400. The trail cam on Hole 9 already shows a disc hovering mid-air. Coincidence? Or prophecy?

Vandal Hymn Just Went Loud

Bryant Adams didn’t win. He hijacked. In the first week of the simulation, he seized the #1 bag tag: Vandal Hymn—a sonic siege weapon forged from digital blasphemy. This isn’t a rank. It’s a rebellion.

"A sonic siege weapon that drowns out the Flare Witch’s whispers with raw, distorted defiance. It turns the Claimant’s presence into an auditory invasion, overwhelming sensors and shaking the resolve of rivals who rely on precision."

When Bryant threw, the cam feeds glitched. The neon grids pulsed. The scorecards flickered with trailing afterimages, like film stock dragged through a malfunctioning deck. The tag’s origin? A trail cam defaced, a recording overwritten, a challenger who refused to be archived. Now, it hums on Bryant’s bag—a low-frequency vibration that syncs with his breath, making chrome tags resonate like struck tuning forks.

The simulation hasn’t erased him. It’s syncing.

The Static Psalm Is Humming

Week 1 wasn’t a beginning. It was a reboot. The Creek Island Loop has been activated. The perimeter is intact—for now. But the static is growing louder, the glow tapes are pulsing in sequence, and somewhere in the tree line, a disc has been thrown that hasn’t landed yet. Bryant Adams didn’t just claim the top rank. He claimed the narrative. And if the course stutters in time with his throws next week? Don’t panic.

It’s not a glitch.

It’s the anthem.

In space, no one can hear you grip lock… but I can.