Here at Sherman Pole Buildings, we’ve been slinging hammers and raising barns since the year disco died—1976, for those keeping score. Over the decades, we’ve seen some sights, and I’m not just talking about the time a raccoon stole my lunch or when Uncle Jerry tried to “square up” a post with a rubber mallet. No, I mean the tourists. They roll into town like a parade of flip-flops and fanny packs, wrists glittering with watches, Fitbits, and occasionally a friendship bracelet from a gas station psychic. And here’s the kicker: most tourists have two wrists. Sounds like a no-brainer, right? But those double-wristers are onto something, and it’s got everything to do with why a pole building might just be the banana-flavored lollipop of your wildest dreams.
Deep Down, You’re Craving A Spot To Park Your Chaos
Picture this: you’re a tourist, cruising the backroads of Minnesota or Wisconsin, wind in your hair, radio blasting a polka remix of “Happy Birthday” because your rental car’s stuck on one station. Your left wrist’s gripping the wheel, your right wrist’s checking a smartwatch that’s screaming you haven’t hit your step goal since you ate that third donut at the county fair. You’re chasing adventure—maybe a quirky diner, maybe a giant roadside statue of a walleye wearing sunglasses. But deep down, you’re craving a spot to park your chaos. A place for your vintage unicycle collection, your artisanal kombucha brewery, or a secret bunker for when the squirrels finally organize. That’s where Sherman pole buildings swoop in, like a superhero with a hardhat and a questionable sense of humor.
Let’s talk speed, because pole buildings go up faster than a rumor about free tacos. We’re talking days, not weeks, to get your building standing prouder than a peacock in a tuxedo. Your two wrists? They’re free to high-five strangers or attempt interpretive dance while we handle the heavy lifting. Speed like that’s why tourists love us—they can snap a selfie with their new barn before their sunburn even starts peeling.
Tourists Are A Weird Bunch
Now, let’s get to the juicy bit: versatility. Tourists are a weird bunch—one minute they’re hiking trails, the next they’re buying a velvet painting of a sad clown at a flea market. A pole building’s just as bonkers-flexible. Need a garage for your monster truck? Boom, done. A dance studio for your interpretive llama ballet? We’re not judging. How about a barndominium where you live upstairs and run a museum of haunted toasters below? We’ve built stranger—ask us about the guy who wanted a disco ball in his horse barn. With no pesky load-bearing walls, you can rearrange the inside like it’s a game of Tetris played by a caffeinated toddler. Steel siding, brick, or a mural of a surfing giraffe—your call. Your wrists get to wave the conductor’s baton, making whatever nutty vision you’ve got come to life.
For the planners out there—you know, the tourists with spreadsheets for their ice cream stops—our 3D design tool’s your new best friend. It’s like playing The Sims, but instead of making virtual people cry in a pool, you’re crafting a pole building that screams “you.” Tweak the doors, the roof pitch, the vibe—make it look like a spaceship or a gingerbread house, we don’t care. Our crews, grizzled pros with more experience than a tourist has tacky fridge magnets, keep the build on track. One customer, let’s call her Sally, said we finished her workshop so fast she was still untangling her Christmas lights when we handed her the keys. That’s service that leaves your wrists free to juggle flaming torches—or at least a couple of tacos.
A Good Barn’s Got Charisma
Here’s where it gets absurd. I swear, some tourists treat our pole barns like they’re the eighth wonder of the world, snapping photos like we built the Pyramids with a side of fries. I caught one guy trying to interview a truss, microphone and all, asking it about its “load-bearing feelings.” I get the hype, though—a good barn’s got charisma, like a grizzly bear in roller skates. But these buildings aren’t just for Instagram. They’re for living your weirdest, wildest life. Maybe you’re a tourist sick of overpriced vacation rentals run by a guy named Tony who charges $50 for Wi-Fi. Or maybe you’re a local dreaming of a shed to store your collection of novelty bottle openers shaped like famous accountants. Either way, a pole building’s your ticket to freedom, minus the part where you accidentally join a cult that worships traffic cones.
Play With Our Tool >>
Durability? Oh, we’ve got that in spades. Tourists brave all sorts of nonsense—hailstorms, heatwaves, that one time their GPS sent them to a cornfield instead of a winery. Our buildings laugh at Mother Nature’s tantrums. Treated lumber that scoffs at rot, trusses that could bench-press a yeti, and designs that meet local codes whether you’re in a Minnesota deep freeze or the summer’s oven. We’ve had barns stand firm against winds so fierce they blew a tourist’s toupee clean into the next county—true story. Your investment’s safer than a goldfish in a bulletproof aquarium, ready for whatever your two wrists drag home from your travels.
Now, Let’s Get Downright Ridiculous
Imagine a pole building so epic it comes with its own theme song, sung by a choir of opera-trained chickens. Okay, we don’t do that—yet—but we could. The point is, a Sherman pole building’s whatever you need it to be: a fortress for your dreams, a stage for your quirks, or just a really big closet for your inflatable dinosaur costume. Why settle for boring when you could have a building that makes your neighbors whisper, “Is that a barn or a portal to Narnia?” Your wrists deserve to wave at the world, not wrestle with red tape or shoddy construction.
So, what’s the takeaway from this wrist-tastic tale? Life’s too short for buildings that don’t make you cackle like a hyena on a sugar high. Whether you’re a tourist chasing the next roadside oddity or a dreamer plotting your own slice of weird, a pole building’s your canvas—cheap, fast, and tougher than a tourist haggling at a swap meet. It’s a place to stash your stuff, chase your passions, or hide from the squirrel uprising. With two wrists, you’ve got the power to make it real—one to point at the horizon, the other to sign on the dotted line.
Moonwalk Over To Our Contact Page
Ready to ditch the sightseeing and start building something gloriously absurd? Call us at 320-679-3438 or moonwalk over to our contact page. We’ve been at this for over 40 years, and we’re still giddier than a tourist spotting a two-for-one buffet. Let’s whip up something sturdy, affordable, and so you it’ll have the neighbors booking tours. After all, most tourists have two wrists—and we’ve got the perfect place to set ’em loose.
