A Nine-Guest Minimony at Tehama Golf Club in Carmel

Vows at Tehama, an Intimate Carmel Wedding at the Golf Club

Carter waited at the front in a gray suit with a pale gray tie and a white-rose boutonniere, his best man beside him in gray with a green tie and a teal folder in hand. Behind them stood a set of heavy rustic wood doors, the clubhouse's tan-stucco arch and iron lanterns and old terracotta urns framing the whole thing. Jana came in to the nine family members who had made the trip, and partway through they poured a sand ceremony, two streams joining into one in front of everyone.

An intimate Carmel wedding at a golf club on the ridge has a particular kind of closeness — nine people means no row is far from the front, and everyone hears every word. When it was over, Jana and Carter kissed under the arch of the clubhouse doors, and then they stayed for photos before the group moved to the covered patio for dinner.

“Jana got ready in a white lace mask, and her mother combed the veil into her hair behind it — a wedding that could only have been 2021.”

On the Ridge Above Carmel Valley, a 9-Guest Carmel Golf Club Wedding

Tehama runs its course across the northern ridge of Carmel Valley, the fairways laid over rolling hillsides with the coast somewhere in the distance. With nine guests the family photos were quick and easy — no one was ever far from the front — and Jana and Carter walked a wet, oak-lined road for their own portraits, the old oaks overhead hung with lichen, fall leaves scattered dark across the pavement, the rain holding just enough for them to move through it.

A private club has a quiet a public park can't offer, and getting portraits there on a rainy off-season day meant the whole ridge was theirs. The rain, honestly, only made it warmer: everyone tucked in close, and Jana pulled a soft white fur wrap over her gown against the chill.

A Tented Dinner as the Rain Came Down

Dinner ran under a clear-walled tent on the patio, patio heaters glowing between the tables, the rain streaming down the plastic panels and the valley going soft and gray beyond. The tables were wood farm-style with burlap runners, lanterns and low white-and-green arrangements down the middle, glasses of Black Kite Chardonnay from the Santa Lucia Highlands poured around. Jana and Carter came in and raised a toast with the small group, Jana still in her fur wrap, her glass up while everyone lifted theirs behind her.

Her father stood to give the father-of-the-bride toast, glass in hand, and there was a long, held hug between Jana and her dad in the rain while everyone clapped under the tent. Her mother laughed through the speeches beside them. Nine people, one covered patio on the ridge, and a January storm that only pulled everyone closer together.