In 1935 the Careys, after a trip to Scotland, invited Maxwell to look at a prospective site north of Hutchinson. The architect spent days exploring the area’s dunes—some of them as high as 60 feet—and concluded that the best site was one he had spotted on the train ride into town, several miles east of the Careys’ land. Asked if the site held 18 good holes, Maxwell replied, “There are 118 good holes there. I just have to eliminate 100 of them.”

Maxwell did design 18 holes but the Careys opted to play safe and build only nine initially. The par-35, 3,165-yard routing came to be known as the “best nine-hole course in the country,” according to Johnny Dawson, a prominent amateur and Walker Cupper who starred in an exhibition at the grand opening on September 13, 1937.

Rolling among those towering dunes and flanked by waist-high, golden prairie grasses, the original nine was virtually treeless and had the look of a links. But perhaps the most noteworthy feature was the severity of Maxwell’s greens, known as “Maxwell’s Rolls,” which largely endure to this day—only two have required rebuilding, a project handled by Maxwell aficionados Ben Crenshaw and Bill Coore in 1986 to address drainage problems.

Unfortunately, a hard freeze in 1940, followed by World War II, prevented immediate expansion of the course to 18 holes. Maxwell never saw it to completion, passing away in 1952 at age 73. By then the members, who had bought the club from the Careys in 1950 for $95,000, were ready to finish the job. The logical choice was Maxwell’s son, Press, who had worked on the construction crew for the original nine.

The younger Maxwell, who designed 42 courses of his own, often pleaded that he didn’t possess his father’s genius, but he was clearly at his creative peak when he weaved nine holes (the present-day Nos. 3–5 and 11–16) into Prairie Dunes’ existing nine.

His challenge was to make the new holes, which opened in 1957, blend with the old. Although the land for the new nine had fewer dunes and less undulation, Maxwell succeeded with the help of technology—bulldozers, which weren’t available two decades before, allowed for easier shaping. Just as the original nine is considered his father’s best work, the additional holes are widely recognized as Press’ finest.

Despite measuring only 6,701 yards, Prairie Dunes is a worthy championship site, thanks to the exacting greens, narrow fairways that tilt and heave like waves on a storm-tossed sea, and ball-gobbling “gunsch,” as the rough—a mixture of native grasses, plum thickets, yucca plants, soap weeds and other flora—is known.

Wind is a huge factor on holes like the 8th, which climbs 430 yards to an elevated green. Dan Jenkins called it the best 8th hole in America in a 1966 Sports Illustrated article. The 17th is a 510-yard par 5 that plays into the prevailing wind. A tight fairway runs through a valley between two long dunes, arriving at a hogback green with gunsch on the left and a steep dropoff to the right.

Of Press’ contributions, the 452-yard 11th is regarded as one of his finest. It swings left, with a horseshoe-shaped bunker guarding the dogleg. A large mound discourages run-up approach shots, and the green is the shallowest on the course.  

At the suggestion of Coore and Crenshaw, the club has opened up areas surrounding most of the greens, closely mowing the grass to allow for more ground-game options. In short, Prairie Dunes has a British Open-like feel, of which the Careys and Maxwell no doubt would approve.