I was cruising west on U.S. Highway 20—just me, my clubs, and a long stretch of open Nebraska road. You pass a lot of quiet towns on this route, but Hay Springs stood out for just how still it felt. A few homes, a school, and a main drag that’s seen better days. The only restaurant looked closed the day I passed through, and there wasn’t much in the way of open storefronts or foot traffic. It’s the kind of place where time doesn’t move fast—and maybe that’s the point.
I figured I’d stretch my legs and take a quick look around. That’s when I saw the sign: “Hay Springs Golf Course.”
Now I’ve played a lot of golf in a lot of places, but something about a course tucked into a town this quiet felt like a hidden gem—or maybe a forgotten one. I turned off the highway, followed a short gravel road, and there it was—a nine-hole course spread out across the prairie like it had been there forever. No fancy clubhouse. No gate. Just the wind, the flagsticks, and a rusty pipe at the first tee.
That pipe? It’s the payment system. Five bucks. Drop it in. That’s your green fee.
This 9-hole, community-run course is the kind of place that reminds you why you fell in love with the game in the first place. As there’s no pro shop, there’s no tee time needed or even possible, no starter barking at you to keep pace, and definitely no one trying to sell you a $48 polo. Instead, you’ll find a quiet course surrounded by Nebraska prairie and a payment system that runs on the honor code.
And honestly, as I stood on that first tee with modern irons in hand, I couldn’t help but think—I really should’ve had a set of hickory shafts in the trunk. This place begs for the old-school game. You want to swing something with leather grips, wear a newsboy cap, and pretend you’re teeing off in 1925.
What sets Hay Springs apart, though, isn’t just the simplicity. It’s the sand greens.
Yes—sand.
Back in the early days of American golf, sand greens were the norm. Maintaining turf in dry, rural areas just wasn’t feasible, so courses improvised. A sand green is a flat circle of oiled sand. After each putt, you’re expected to drag a mat to smooth out the surface. It’s like raking a bunker and putting on it. Weird? Absolutely. But also kind of wonderful.
According to Larry Bohannan’s piece on sand greens, there are only about 100–150 sand green courses left in the United States. Hay Springs Golf Course is one of them. You’re not just playing a round—you’re stepping into a living time capsule.
There’s no pro shop, no beverage cart, and definitely no GPS—because there’s no one there to offer it. You bring your own gear, play at your own pace, and maybe wave at a local driving by in a dusty pickup.
So if you’re cruising through the Nebraska Panhandle with your clubs in the trunk, swing by Hay Springs. Bring your own golf balls, smooth out your sand putts, and don’t forget your $5 bill for the pipe.
This is golf the way your grandpa might’ve played it—and that’s exactly what makes it special.
