Arctic Cat put Thief River Falls on the map. Can the town save the company from closing?

THIEF RIVER FALLS, Minn. — Judy and Randy Adamson’s fate was sealed in the Great Blizzard of 1978 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 Thief River Falls without the company. It’s one of Minnesota’s most recognizable brands with neon green louder than the engines beneath the hoods of its machines. Since the assembly line kicked on here 62 years ago, Arctic Cat has become a way of life and sense of identity for the community.

A week before Christmas, Textron Inc., the parent company of Arctic Cat, announced that it was suspending production indefinitely at its plants in Thief River Falls and St. Cloud, the latest blow after 65 permanent layoffs in November.

Textron said in a filing with the Securities and Exchange Commission last week that it is seeking strategic alternatives as the powersports industry remains soft.

Employees, city officials and snowmobile enthusiasts in Thief River Falls are hopeful that a buyer will step in to take over Arctic Cat. Perhaps it’s the holiday spirit or resiliency of a community that has seen the company endure an earlier production hiatus and then come roaring back, but many aren’t ready to accept the end of the company.

“It’s not over yet. We all bleed green and we’re fighting until the bitter end,” said Michele McCraw, who sits on City Council and is a longtime member of Arctic Cat’s 530-employee workforce in Thief River Falls.

McCraw worked in engineering for 25 years at the company before moving to program management. She said that while the production lines have quieted, a number of employees are still working in service warranty, customer service and engineering.

Tracey Sceville, who puts together the company’s parts catalogs, still has her job. She 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.

That was 22 year ago.

She met her future husband at Arctic Cat, and together they have two children, Teven,10, and Taveya, 9. When the kids got out of school for winter break on Friday, she brought them to the plant to see the new models decked out with holiday lights and standing next to artificial trees on the lobby’s showroom floor.

“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 children 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, the plant’s parking lot held only a few cars, most of them belonging to 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,” Martinez said.

The same is true of the St. Cloud plant, which employs 30 people. The parking lot was empty, and the doors were locked at the engine plant in the Interstate 94 business park on the south side of the city.

“It’s never good to see that happen,” Mayor Dave Kleis said Friday. “Obviously, the economy changes and what people buy changes. I think that’s the issue.”

In the glory days, 100 companies competed in the snowmobile industry. Only four survive, including two in northern Minnesota: Arctic Cat and Polaris. But the industry is collapsing. Yamaha stopped making snowmobiles in 2023. 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 cost $20,000. Without the guarantee of snow, consumers find the investment harder to justify. Might as well buy a boat or side-by-side.

Snowmobile sales take years 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 the ice. 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.

Temperatures this week could reach 40 degrees, which means less snow on trails and more grass.

A snowless winter in 1980 and a poor economy led to what Arctic Cat calls its “Gone Fish’n” years.

The company went bankrupt in 1981 and ceased production the next two years. Instead of shying away from hard times, the company experienced a rebirth.

“There might be another chapter,” said Al Grzadzielewski, owner of Black Cat Sports Bar and Grill across the street from the Thief River Falls 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, too, from when the company was 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 1 millionth snowmobile and had twice as many employees as it does today.

A few years later, the company’s fate was uncertain again until Rhode Island-based Textron acquired it in 2017. Locals say Textron, which sells Bell helicopters and Cessna aircrafts, doesn’t care what Arctic Cat means to Thief River Falls.

“This town was built on Arctic Cat,” Grzadzielewski said. “It’s a sad day for Thief River Falls. I really hope that somebody picks it up and runs with it.”

Mayor Brian Holmer said 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 suffer if the plant closes for good.

Holmer has been calling officials at the Minnesota Department of Employment and Economic Development. With the return of the Trump administration, he said, he’ll have connections in the White House, too, and plans to tap them for help if needed.

Holmer fought for the $400 million expansion of Digi-Key Electronics in 2022. The company unseated Arctic Cat as the largest employer in town and has 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 supporters 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.

Since Textron’s announcement, Holmer said, his phone won’t stop ringing. He’s been taking interviews and trying to spread a message of optimism as he works across the street from city hall at his meat shop, where he was hand-tying 2,000 pounds of prime rib for the holidays.

Holmer stopped by the Black Cat bar on Friday night wearing an Arctic Cat jacket and talked about companies potentially interested in buying the plant.

Randy Adamson, who is the local Arctic Cat historian, said he has heard 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.

Arctic Cat collectibles and antiques fill Adamson’s garage, and he meticulously catalogs the pieces for auctions. Dart boards, clocks, posters, hats, suspenders, signs.

His late father, Vern, owned the town’s first Arctic Cat dealership, which he set up outside his gas station. Adamson took over the business, but sold it 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 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,” Adamson said. “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 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.

Staff writer Jenny Berg contributed reporting from St. Cloud.