Sand-Green Golf in Nebraska’s Sand Hills
Back down the first fairway and past the delicate mounds ahead of the semi-blind tee is the "clubhouse". it is a two room trailer with a donated Fridgidaire with a beer to gatorade ratio of 5-to-1. The parking lot outside still sat empty. Dust hung heavy in the July afternoon humidity after a cattle guard on wheels sped past on Highway 58, late for everything but a tee-time.
Sitting on the fringe of some of the world's greatest land for golf, Dannebrog Country Club isn't exactly a hidden gem. The 9-hole course is often overlooked by those golf purists making the four-hour drive to Wild Horse or Bayside from Nebraska’s more populated eastern half. and those lucky enough to find a tee time at Sand Hills, Dismal River, or The Prairie club are only glancing Dannebrog's way if they get a flat tire on Highway 281.
Built with a recognizable combination of Busch Light, diesel-powered Farmalls, and a few men with far too much time on their hands after the bushels were counted, Dannebrog is a 2,660-yard, par-34 pasture with gentle undulations everywhere except the greens, which are waxy sandboxes encased in barbed-wire. Greens fees have inflated to $4.00 a day at Dannebrog, but membership dues are still a reasonable $25 per year.
That being said, folks have a reason to be skeptical when they unload their clubs at this part-time cow patch. It is home to greens that don't quite register on a stimpmeter and nine fairways that still have a lot of stubble after their weekly trim on Friday morning - looking more like a playoff beard by Sunday afternoon and Forrest Gump in Monument Valley by Thursday night.
Simply put, claiming Dannebrog is among the must-plays in The Beef State is about as out-of-place as an editorial in the Journal Star praising Mike Riley’s contributions to Husker football.
Tee times aren’t made online or over the phone at Dannebrog. Just fill an envelope and slide it in the mailbox near the electric fence on your way to the first tee.
Lacking the nuance around the pin of even its most pockmarked neighbors boasting fancy grass greens, outsiders learn fast that a different game of golf is played here entirely. Heck, after the $4 greens fee, you’re more likely to see somebody using a cattle prod on the tee box than a laser range finder. And those playing behind the local members will have the easiest time reading the greens, - raked in a tight spiral of corduroy sand moving outward from the cup with the same exacting precision as their T-L center pivots showering the crops across the fence – when all putts roll against the grain. (Caddie’s advice: Just hit it firm and dead straight.)
It is this same irreverence for pesticides and handicaps and a handful of iconic golf holes that make this 90-acre club into something truly worth experiencing. With heifers and used club car's grazing side-by-side over the subtle humps and ridges each weekend, Dannebrog is one of the most fitting representations of the surprising people, forgotten places, and especially beautiful golf of western Nebraska.
