Who Benefits When Golf Carts Are Made a Policy Priority in Small Town Kentucky?

Instead of focusing on rural public transportation, local governments have spent years pushing these low speed vehicles onto public roads.

Take a Sunday drive down any hairpin-twisting backroad across central and eastern Kentucky, and it quickly becomes clear that car culture is alive and well in the region. Between monthly “cruise in” events where enthusiasts buff out and show off their pristinely-maintained Mustangs and Barracudas; to drag racing tracks that thrum with revving engines on a Saturday night; to monstrously-sized trucks that bleat smoke and have tires as tall as a toddler, this isn’t a place where trains, bus systems or walkable downtowns take priority.

Over the past 15 years, though, another motorized vehicle has been thrown into the mix across the region, albeit one that is more slow-and-steady than speed racer: the golf cart.   

Golf carts are part of a class of motorized contraption known as “low speed vehicles”—or LSVs—which includes any street legal vehicle that has a minimum speed of 20 miles-per-hour and is allowed to operate along public roads where the speed limit is under 35 miles-per-hour. Kentucky first allowed golf carts to operate on public roads in 2008 on any street within five miles of a golf course, then dissolved the close-to-a-golf-course condition in 2010.

State law requires that golf carts on city streets can only operate between dawn and dusk; must be driven by a licensed individual; have a “slow moving vehicle” emblem on them; and can only carry up to six people, among other regulations. Currently, ten communities across central and eastern Kentucky— London, Corbin, Flemingsburg, Paris, Lawrenceburg, Georgetown, Garrard County, Danville, Winchester and Frankfort—have further approved additional golf cart regulations inside specific city limits, pushing these LSVs to the top of commission agendas and garnering quite a bit of chattering attention along the way.

But whether or not people are actually making use of these belabored local laws is another issue entirely. The average price for a new golf cart rings up at right around $8,500, with upkeep running anywhere from $700 for new shocks to $1,400 for a new clutch. The target audience for purchasing and driving golf carts in rural central and eastern Kentucky seems small, to say the least, and like an odd public policy priority over more inclusive and beneficial transportation initiatives.

(Getty Images)

Perhaps the—ahem—drive to push through new ordinances promoting golf cart culture in small town Kentucky is rooted in the idea that golf cart sales could increase city revenue through licensing fees and taxes while building up a cottage industry for golf cart repair and sales ($75/hour is the going rate for golf cart maintenance, according to Golf Cart Report). And while the density of golf cart-specific dealers and upkeep shops across the region is surprisingly high—from M&R Golf Carts in Middlesboro to SS Golf Carts in Lawrenceburg—if creating a new stream of cashflow for municipalities is the actual goal, community leaders have missed the mark in a big way.

For starters, it turns out not that many people want to drive a golf cart down main street—and even fewer can afford it. “The ordinance got lots of attention when we adopted it years ago. It was pitched as a fuel saver and that it [could be useful] if citizens had a cart near one of our golf courses in the city,” explains Winchester Chief-of-Police Kevin Palmer. “The restrictions and safety equipment were too much for casual cart owners I suspect. It never took off here. I can’t say there has ever been more than 10 licensed carts, and there are none at this time.” What’s more, Winchester’s statute currently imposes a heavy penalty if exacting rules aren’t met: A first time fine for improperly operating a golf cart can go as high as $250 and must be no less than $100.

Next door in Richmond, a public survey last year found that 53 percent of residents were against golf carts being allowed in certain under-35-mph-zones, with 67 percent of those in favor of legalizing the carts noting that they had no intention to purchase one of their own. In Corbin, where golf carts are legal on approved streets, city manager Marlon Sams notes that the town has only issued 15 permits since the law passed in 2014. “Some people don't like the rule that says they can’t be on state roads,” says Sams. “And Corbin has several state roads in our city limits.”

Between the hefty initial price tag, restricted permissible roadways and expensive upkeep on this breed of play-only, limited-use vehicle, it’s difficult to rationalize local governments’ prioritization of such niche hobby-carts in a region where consistently being able to afford gas to drive to-and-from work or medical appointments is a major concern for large swaths of citizens. After all, a golf cart certainly isn’t going to make a 2-hour roundtrip trek to the oncologist any simpler in the same way investing in a new countywide bus route could.      

If city officials were really interested in “fuel saving” or addressing the stark reality of how limited access to rural transportation throughout the hills and hollers has profound, negative consequences for Kentuckians, they’d train their bureaucratic gaze on ways to expand public transit and low-cost—or free!—collaborative ridesharing services for those in need. That is unless focusing on golf carts isn’t a problem-solving choice, but an aspirational one.

As the landscape of golf cart ownership currently stands in Kentucky, these recreational vehicles are typically used for tooling around farm properties, the tortoise-like answer to an all-terrain vehicle’s mudding, zipping hare. But by moving golf carts from primarily private-use to the public eye—and making it a policy position—town leaders are perhaps attempting a Hilton Head-ification of their communities through golf carts as a conspicuous consumption choice.     
 
First legalized for street use in Palm Desert, California in 1974, tut-tutting along roads in a golf cart is now synonymous with the leisure class, and resort towns like Naples, Florida and Fripp Island, South Carolina have made a point to incorporate golf carts into the fiber of their tourism economies. Perhaps city leaders, upon return from their summer vacations, thought that focusing on street legal golf carts would be a way to drive tourism efforts in small town Kentucky, or attract residents who were already accustomed to, and could afford, a golf cart lifestyle. Maybe it’s entirely self-serving and they just wanted to drive their own golf carts on the roads.      

(Bradenton, Florida golf cart garage, Getty Images)

But it’s not hard to immediately see holes in the plan. “I think people need to realize that Richmond is not a resort destination,” Richmond City Manager Rob Minerich noted at a city commission meeting last July. Kentucky doesn’t have year-round sunny-and-75 weather; major infrastructure issues mean golf carts might not even make it over the potholed streets; and the large majority of residents wouldn’t—or couldn’t—buy one anyway.

Plus, there’s the mountainous topography. “It seems that riding in golf carts is just not a safe option in the city. Maybe in a municipality that had a state park it would make more sense,” says Ashland City Commissioner Josh Blanton. “I lived in a housing development in Birmingham, Alabama where there were lots of golf carts because subdivisions were close together and it made sense in those little areas. But in Ashland, we don't really have those huge expansive developments, and we don't have recreational areas inside the city limits.”

In hilly Flemingsburg, where golf carts are street legal, City Commissioner Ricky Hurst was the lone “no” vote against the regulation’s adoption in 2019. “I voted no because I felt that the slow speeds would be a hazard,” says Hurst, who also points out that there haven’t been any issues yet (perhaps because so few people are taking golf carts out for a spin). Still, the LSVs seem to be top-of-mind for the city, with the official Flemingsburg website highlighting three primary links in bright red: Job Application, Open Records Request and Golf Cart Application and Ordinance.

As it turns out, undue influence from Big Golf Cart probably isn’t behind central and eastern Kentucky towns passing laws about golf carts over public transit. But community leaders prioritizing these motorized toys over thoughtful, big picture transportation plans deserves a second look from residents—and maybe even a call to your commissioner.