golfkat Travel Blog

You probably think that I am avoiding America’s heartland.  Well, I made a trip to part of America’s heartland, Whistling Straits, Wisconsin, a few years ago.  Thirteen airlines fly into Milwaukee’s General Mitchell International Airport.  Sheboygan, and specifically, Kohler is about an hour up the road on Interstate 43.  My golf buddy Mike and I went to Sheboygan to experience the soon to be famous golf courses in Whistling Straits and surrounding area.  Kohler, of course, is home to the Kohler Company.  The dormitory for immigrant Kohler workers is now the American Club, a combo of old world charm and modern luxury.  It sits in the middle of the quaint village of Kohler, near the Kohler Design Center, the Kohler Waters Spa, and the four golf courses at Whistling Straits and Blackwolf Run.
 
But since we did not bring the spouses, we opted to stay at a cheaper hotel in downtown Sheboygan, just a stone’s throw away, and a million miles away on the luxury scale.  But it turned out just fine.  We landed in Milwaukee, and drove up to Sheboygan, checked in, and had our best meal of the trip, at a nearby steakhouse.  Wisconsin is the Dairy State, but they also grow delicious beef.  We were also looking forward to the Friday Night Fish Fry, an area tradition.  Sheboygan was also home to Pat Matzdorf, at one time, the world record holder in the high jump.
 
We hired a caddy the next day and headed out to the Irish Course at Whistling Straits.  We had a great time getting accustomed to the winds off of Lake Michigan, and the many bunkers that course architect Pete Dye is famous for.  But we still deserved a brew or two in the clubhouse afterwards.  It was just a buildup to the Fish Fry.
 
Just about every restaurant in Wisconsin has a Friday Fish Fry.  I forget now exactly what kind of white fish, maybe pike or walleye.  But they serve plenty with lots of fries and sides, washed down with beer. Then we set out to find some famous Wisconsin ice cream.  We drove around in futility until we saw an ice cream cone sign outside a gas station.  Once inside, we could not find the ice cream, until we headed to the very back of the store.  In the far corner, a woman was heaping ice cream scoops the size of cantaloupes onto large cones.
 
When it came our turn, we both ordered a double, the flavors of which, I now forget.  But the remarkable part is the bill for both orders was about $3.00.  Needless to say, the ice cream was fantastic, and we could not finish it all.  We were happy campers.  I would find out years later from my friend, Ken, that Wisconsinites are true ice cream connoisseurs.
 
As we prepared for the famous Straits course, soon to be host to the PGA Championship, we thought we were well prepared.  Again, with our caddie, we beat the front 9 into submission.  But then the winds from Lake Michigan reared their ugly head on the back 9.  We limped and crawled home, lucky to break 90, our spirit shattered.  At one point on the 17th hole, par 3, Mike had to hike down to near lake level to hit his next shot up to the green.  Mine was not any better, as it landed in a bunker behind a hill about twenty feet high.  To ease the pain, we went to the American Club for a few brews and popcorn.
 
To further ease the pain, we went back to the fabulous steak house of the first night, and gorged ourselves on prime rib.  Equally good compared to the steak, and many times better than the fish fry.  And we knew exactly where to go for ice cream.  The Midwest is a great place for hearty food, especially beef.  Stay away from the sushi.
 
Just up the road an hour is Green Bay, home to the Packers and the cheeseheads.  Many golfers were headed there after their Saturday round of golf.  We also passed the Allen Edmonds Factory Shoe outlet, a real outlet store in the middle of nowhere. That is where GHWB #41 gets his shoes.  Besides their fame for Miller Beer, established in 1855, there are tons of microbreweries and brewpubs everywhere.
 
Now, you are wondering about cheeseheads.  Only a real fan would wear one.  I had to bring one home for an employee who wanted one for her husband, a big Packer fan.  The plastic cheeseheads, if you have not seen them, resemble a quarter block of cheese, with a hole in the center to fit your head.  Only a crazy person would wear one around here.  Another midwestern phenomenon:  Sunday brings the family get togethers, with lots of car and pickup trucks parked on the grass, under the big shade trees in the front yard.  This is truly still the heartland of America.
 
Would I go back someday?  Yes, since it is such a wholesome, clean living place, with great golf and good steaks and ice cream.  I guess old Herb Kohler knew what he was doing.  He promised to make this place a world class facility, to host a major golf championship like the PGA, and make it fun for guys like us.