Arctic Cat put Thief River Falls on the map. Can the town save the company from shuttering?
Textron Inc. is suspending Arctic Cat production of snowmobiles and other powersports in a struggling industry.
Judy and Randy Adamson pictured inside their garage full of Arctic Cat collectibles. They owned an Arctic Cat dealership in Thief River Falls for many years, and he is considered the town’s local Arctic Cat historian. (Kim Hyatt/The Minnesota Star Tribune)
THIEF RIVER FALLS, Minn. — Judy and Randy Adamson’s fate was sealed in the great 1978 blizzard when the town sent Arctic Cat workers out on snowmobiles to bring home nurses stranded at the hospital. It was their first of countless rides together.
Picturing their life without Arctic Cat is like imagining the town of Thief River Falls without the company. It’s one of Minnesota’s most recognizable brands with neon green louder than the engines underneath the hood. Since the assembly line kicked on here 62 years ago, Arctic Cat has become a way of life and formed a sense of identity.
A week before Christmas, the parent company of Arctic Cat announced that it is suspending production indefinitely at its plant here and in St. Cloud, the latest blow after 65 permanent layoffs in November. It said in a filing with the Securities and Exchange Commission this week that it is seeking strategic alternatives as the powersports industry remains soft.
Employees, city officials and snowmobile enthusiasts here are hopeful that a new buyer will step in. Perhaps it’s the holiday spirit, or resiliency of this community and company that has experienced a production hiatus before and came back roaring, but many aren’t ready to accept the end of Arctic Cat.
“It’s not over yet. We all bleed green and we’re fighting until the bitter end,” said Michele McCraw, city councilmember and longtime Arctic Cat employee. The company employs 530 people in Thief River Falls.
McCraw worked in engineering for 25 years at Arctic Cat before moving over to program management. She said while that though production lines have quieted, a number of employees are still working in service warranty, customer service and engineering.
Tracey Sceville puts together the parts catalogues. She still has her job and doesn’t want to lose it.
“I walked in the door giving it the mentality that I can take any job for two weeks, and I absolutely fell in love with this place and the people,” Sceville said.
Arctic Cat employee Tracey Sceville takes a selfie with her 9-year-old daughter during a visit to the plant. Sceville has worked there 22 years and doesn’t want to lose the job she loves. (Kim Hyatt)
She met her husband at Arctic Cat and together they have two children, Teven,10, and Taveya, 9. When they got out of school Friday for winter break, she brought them to the plant to see new models decked out with holiday lights next to artificial trees on the showroom floor in the lobby.
“I want this for Christmas!” Taveya said as she sat on a kid-sized Arctic Cat adorned with a big green bow.
Sceville fought back tears when talking about the news. Her kids don’t know. She doesn’t want them to.
“I am very proud to work here,” she said. “And I’m very worried about everything that has happened… and that may continue to happen between the employees and the families, and of course, the town.”
On Friday, only a few cars were in the plant’s parking lot, mostly of maintenance workers like Arnoldo Martinez, who said he’s not sure where else he would find work.
“It’s a ghost town in there right now,” he said.
The same is true of the St. Cloud location, which employs 30 people. The parking lot was empty and the building’s doors locked at the engine plant, which is in the I-94 business park on the south side of the city.
“It’s never good to see that happen,” St. Cloud Mayor Dave Kleis said Friday. “Obviously the economy changes and what people buy changes. I think that’s the issue.”
An industry in decline
In the glory days, 100 companies once competed in the snowmobile industry. Only four survived, two located in northern Minnesota: Arctic Cat and Polaris. But the industry is collapsing. Yamaha stopped making snowmobiles last year. Polaris reported an 80% drop in profits this year and Canada-based BRP Inc., which makes Ski-Doo, cut snowmobile production by 30%.
Warm winters and high interest rates are to blame. A new snowmobile can run $20,000. Without the guarantee of snow, it’s harder to justify the investment. Might as well buy a boat or side-by-side.
It takes years for snowmobile sales to rebound from a bad winter. And 2023 was a killer.
“Dealers are sitting full of inventory right now,” said Tom Wang, who helps run the local snowmobile club in Thief River Falls.
Last winter was the first time in 50 years that Wang didn’t take his sled out. Even with the recent snowfall, there’s not enough to groom the trails. Some riders opt for the frozen Red Lake River, which Wang said used to be as busy as a highway with so many snowmobiles on it. All green Arctic Cats zipping along the roads are dotingly called “ditch pickles,” but not many were spotted around town over the weekend.
Interest in the winter sport has waned. “We’ve got the lowest membership we’ve ever had,” Wang said of the club that has 25 members, down from a peak of more than 100.
The club hosts annual youth snowmobile safety classes. They’re lucky to get a few dozen kids when hundreds used to attend.
Temps this week could reach 40 degrees, which means less snow and more grass on trails.
The company went bankrupt in 1981 and ceased production the next two years. Instead of shying away from hard times, it’s like a badge of honor that the company experienced a rebirth.
“There might be another chapter,” said Al Grzadzielewski, the owner of Black Cat Sports Bar and Grill across the street from the plant, which builds snowmobiles, ATVs and side-by-sides.
Inside the Black Cat, snowmobile photos, Team Arctic racing banners, brochures, magazine articles and memorabilia blanket the walls. Snowmobile hoods cover the ceiling. It’s like an Arctic Cat museum.
There are framed ads in the bar from when the company resurrected, saying “the biggest news to hit the snowmobile industry since Arctic Cat went under” was the news that “The Cat is Back.”
“It was only a matter of time. The boys in Thief River Falls, Minnesota are again unleashing… the most ferocious animal to ever hit the trails,” the ad reads.
By 2010, Arctic Cat had built its millionth snowmobile and had twice as many employees as it does today.
The company’s fate was uncertain again a few years later until Rhode Island-based Textron Industries acquired it in 2017. Locals say that Textron, which sells Bell helicopters and Cessna aircrafts, doesn’t care what Arctic Cat means to Thief River Falls.
“This town was built on Artic Cat,” Grzadzielewski said. “It’s a sad day for Thief River Falls. I really hope that somebody picks it up and runs with.”
Mayor Brian Holmer says closing the plant wouldn’t only be devastating to the town of 8,500 people.
“You lose something like that, it’s going to hurt everybody,” he said.
Minnesota boasts 22,000 miles of groomed snowmobile trails— second only to Wisconsin in the U.S.
Trails support ancillary businesses and Arctic Cat relies on a supply chain that could also suffer if the plant closes for good.
Thief River Falls Mayor Brian Holmer prepares for a radio interview at his meat business across the street from city hall. He said he’s fighting to keep the Arctic Cat plant from shuttering. (Kim Hyatt)
Holmer has been calling officials at the Minnesota Department of Employment and Economic Development. He said he has connections in the White House with the returning Trump administration, too, and plans to tap on them for help if it comes down to it.
He fought for the $400 million expansion of Digi-Key Electronics. It’s the largest employer in town, unseating Arctic Cat, and one of the country’s 10 largest warehouses. Holmer said his advocacy for Digi-Key is like a prelude for the pending Arctic Cat fight.
He said they have six months to find a new buyer. He’s seeking every alternative to keep the plant open, even if that means manufacturing other products and not just snowmobiles and other powersports.
Ever since Textron’s announcement, Holmer’s phone won’t stop ringing. He’s been taking interviews and trying to spread a message of optimism as he works across from the street from city hall at his meat shop, where he is hand-tying 2,000 pounds of prime rib for the holidays.
He stops by the Black Cat bar on Friday night wearing an Arctic Cat jacket and talks about companies potentially interested in buying the plant.
Randy Adamson, who is the local Arctic Cat historian, hears rumors of potential buyers, too.
“I just had somebody say what [Textron] just did is probably the best sign that somebody else is going to take them over,” he said.
Adamson’s garage is full of Arctic Cat collectibles and antiques that he meticulously catalogues for auctions. Dart boards, clocks, posters, hats, suspenders, signs.
His late father Vern owned the first Arctic Cat dealership in town set up outside his gas station. Adamson took over the business that he sold during the pandemic when he became severely ill and inventory backlogged.
A huge part of the snowmobile industry and culture is racing. Adamson said his motto for decades was what won on Sunday sold on Monday, but with all the recent cuts and layoffs, Team Arctic also disbanded.
“Textron didn’t think it was a big deal,” Adamson said.
Arctic Cat to Textron is like a little bug, he said. “You don’t like it? Just stomp on it. It’s too bad they don’t have the heart and soul in it here.”
That doesn’t mean Holmer is ready to see the manufacturing plant become an Arctic Cat museum like the Black Cat or Adamson’s garage.
”I don’t want to be putting a monument up,” he said.
