You won't find any of the iconic images traditionally associated with miniature golf on the new course at Spirit Mountain, the ski and recreation area in Duluth.

There are no windmills or gaping clown maws. There isn't even a replica of the city's Aerial Lift Bridge or Enger Tower like Renee Mattson, the director of Spirit Mountain, had in mind when she asked renowned architect David Salmela to design the newest addition to the recreation area's adventure park.

Salmela finally agreed to do it -- but not in those predictable ways.

"The more he warmed up to it, the more he saw the potential to do something unique," Mattson said.

The nine-hole course is a single flat surface lifted a few inches off the ground. It is enclosed by knee-high walls and the pins are covered with shed-like roofed structures. Salmela eschewed artificial grass for a smooth surface made from richlite, a mix of recycled paper and resin.

The first paying customers on the course this month wondered if it was even finished, because it didn't have the putt-putt staple of artificial turf.

The setup has the feel of a playhouse compound. Or, as Salmela described it: "like a cattle chute."

Instead of mounds and embankments, golfers work around a combination of wooden rectangles and circles that lie flat on the fairway. These obstacles were arranged by Spirit Mountain staff. It is possible, though not easy, to get a hole-in-one on every hole.

Salmela wanted to build a structure rather than a surface that was fit into the landscape. He wanted it to be low-maintenance and to be one-of-a-kind. He calls the finished product a simple, rational construction.

"It had to be fail-safe as you could make it and be able to take the abuse," said the internationally known architect who lives in Duluth. "I think if someone gets angry and bends a putter over the wall, the wall can take it."

This was his first mini golf course and Salmela said he couldn't think of another architect who had designed one.

For at least part of opening day on Sept. 8, Salmela was not only the architect -- he was also the course record-holder, shooting a 32. Hole 8 gave him trouble; he nine-putted.

"The architect can't be the record-holder," he said. "That would be impolite. Unethical."

Just as Salmela was finishing his round, Kammi Bakke and Lindsay Leveille teed up. And while the course was different from what they were used to -- the ball rolls faster and the walls keep wayward balls in play -- the course's first paying twosome got a kick out of it.

"It's nothing like I've ever played before," Leveille said as they finished.