Why the Pending Arctic Cat Closure Hurts So Much
The recent announcement that Textron plans to suspend operations at Arctic Cat in 2025 has made hearts heavy at a time when they should be light. The decision will have an economic impact but the hurt seems deeper than that, it seems more to me like people are in mourning.
I read Edgar Hetteen’s book, “Breaking Trail,” a few years ago. I think the emotional attachment to the Arctic Cat brand can be found in the book. Arctic Cat was started with such a grass roots effort and was kept alive initially with such struggle that only emotion could have fueled such an undertaking. Local people rose to the challenge of making the brand work and breathing life back into the dream when things went bad. The dreams of young people were fired by the notoriety, fame and success that could be found locally in snowmobile racing. We even found an appreciation for the natural beauty of a Minnesota winter on an Arctic Cat from trails established for that very thing.
My Uncle, Gordon Olson, drove an Arctic Cat. I have a picture of him driving an Arctic Cat Cross Country with Grandma Zavoral in the passenger seat. It was such a joyful picture, I mean you can almost see the memories being made. Prior to snowmobiles, outdoor activities meant skating, building a snow fort or playing football in the snow. Riding a snowmobile used the same hardy enthusiasm found in simpler winter recreation and made it into a comfortable, breathtaking adventure.
Snowmobiling drew people to enjoy this new passion together. Snowmobile clubs formed and embraced the exhilaration of enjoying a hotdog cooked over a campfire followed by hot chocolate enjoyed against the background of the Minnesota wilderness. To see an opening in the forest that once kept you at arm’s length with the depth of snow that covered its floor was like finding a new world. Pastor Mathre even led a snowmobile club made up of his confirmands at Zion Lutheran in Viking back in the 70s, all in the name of getting closer to God by breaking a little fresh trail.
A snowmobile license was one of the big four when I was growing up. The license was part of a set of accomplishments that included earning your gun permit, your driver’s license and graduation. Snowmobile training was held at the Viking gymnasium which was packed full. I studied the training manual closely and enjoyed the safety movies led by “Inspector Henderson” with his white Arctic Cat jacket and Cossack hat.
A tour of the Arctic Cat plant highlighted the sixth-grade field day after a visit to the Hartz Wholesale distribution warehouse and the Bridgeman plant. As I write this column, I just realized that all of these entities either no longer exist in their original form or have days which are carefully numbered. I still remember the patch and sticker I received at the plant. I interviewed Randy Adamson for a podcast last winter and his collection of patches gave me the same rush I had that day at the Arctic Cat plant.
Times have changed and the snow we receive doesn’t seem to create the base it once did, this limits recreational opportunities on a snowmobile. The side-by-side UTV comes with a cab, heat, radio and can be fitted with tracks. It may not do what a snowmobile does as quickly, but it does it in comfort and has replaced the snowmobile for many of its uses. We have traded our sense of adventure for our need for comfort, maybe this is just a symptom of that cultural change.
Arctic Cat has survived on hope and courage before however money makes the final decision. I hope this story ends well; however I think Grandma Zavoral’s smile may be a memory that stays in the past. I also believe most of us have a similar story that may now solidly become a part of our own personal history. Maybe that’s why Arctic Cat’s pending closure hurts so much.
