Covered in spikes, with a mouth full of sharp fangs, the hodag was described as a “terrible brute” with the “strength of an ox” and the “cunning of a fox” that smelled of “buzzard meat and skunk perfume.” According to Eugene Simeon Shepard, the man who popularized the creature, it took dynamite to finally slay the beast.
Indeed, a more formidable monster could hardly be imagined … and that's a perfect word for the hodag: imagined. To understand the history of this unlikely creature, we need to explore the “fearsome critters” of logging folklore.
What Are “Fearsome Critters?”
In the logging camps of the late 19th century, there wasn’t much to do after the sun went down. As such, loggers would sometimes entertain themselves by telling tall tales of “fearsome critters” that they claimed to have seen haunting the woods during their workday. Some of these critters were indeed ferocious, others were comical, but all of them were largely inventions of the loggers. Sometimes, they were simply a way to pass the time, while other times they were a method of hazing newcomers… and a rare few may have genuinely been believed to exist, at least by some.
Famous “fearsome critters” include the jackalope, the agropelter, the hidebehind, the gumberoo, the squonk, the wampus cat, fur-bearing trout, the hoop snake, and many more. Among these is the hodag, which appeared in written accounts as early as 1870 and has made its way into the folklore of even as legendary a figure as Paul Bunyan.
Long before Shepard would describe it in such vivid terms, the hodag was already a part of North American oral tradition. These early stories came from all over the country, but by 1893, this particular “fearsome critter” would be inextricably linked with the town of Rhinelander, Wisconsin.
How to Capture a Hodag
In an 1893 issue of the Near North newspaper, logger, land surveyor, and entrepreneur Eugene Shepard wrote about the hodag for the first time. He claimed that he and several others had slain the beast, which they described as having “the head of a frog, the grinning face of a giant elephant, thick short legs set off by huge claws, the back of a dinosaur, and a long tail with spears at the end.”
The hodag, Shepard wrote, had slain his hunting dogs and resisted every effort to bring it down with heavy rifles and even “large-bore squirt guns loaded with poisonous water.” It was only after hours of struggle that they were finally able to kill the beast using dynamite. A notorious photograph of Shepard and his crew gathered around the charred “remains” of the hodag was published along with the story, and the buzz around the creature began.
It didn’t end there, however. In August of 1896, just before the first Oneida County Fair, Shepard made an even more provocative claim. This time, he said, he had actually captured a hodag alive, and he planned to exhibit it at the fair!
Capturing such a savage beast was no small task. Shepard claimed that he had the assistance of bear wrestlers in the endeavor, and that they had placed chloroform on the end of a long pole, which was stuck deep into the hodag’s lair. The suitably sedated creature was then put on display, first at the Oneida County Fair, and then in a shack adjacent to Shepard’s home, where people were quickly hustled in and out “for their safety,” according to an account recorded in the Wausau Daily Herald.
Is the Hodag real?
Well, the one that Eugene Shepard captured certainly wasn’t. Constructed from wood, ox hides, and the horns of bulls, the hodag that Shepard displayed at the fair and at his home was operated by wires, or by his own sons, likely having a ball scaring the locals by puppeteering the supposed beast while “growling and hissing.”
While the hodag may have been a hoax, however, it was not one done out of entirely selfish motives—though Shepard certainly intended to profit on the deal. At that time, Rhinelander was a town that only existed because of the logging industry, and Shepard and other locals saw that industry waning. They knew that if Rhinelander was going to survive, it would need something else to draw people in. Hence, at least in part, the hodag was born.
Though always presented with what folklorist Lenwood Sharpe called “a wink and a nudge,” the legend of the hodag was picked up by many newspapers across the country, and the hoax spread far and wide, drawing attention to Rhinelander. While the story goes that Shepard had to admit his fraud when scientists from the Smithsonian announced that they were coming to Rhinelander to study the creature, many believe that it was never intended to be taken seriously at all, just presented as a gimmick to help the little town survive—a job that it is doing even to this day, where the hodag is the town’s unofficial (and sometimes official) mascot, and Rhinelander is a tourist destination.
The Hodag and Its Home
As of 2020, Rhinelander, WI, was a town of just over 8,000 residents, and every single one of them knew the hodag. The fearsome critter is the high school’s mascot, and a larger-than-life fiberglass statue created by local artist Tracy Goberville stands in front of the Rhinelander Area Chamber of Commerce.
The town is dotted with smaller sculptures of the beast, and one was even given to then Senator John F. Kennedy and his wife when they visited Rhinelander in 1959, during his presidential campaign. “We find the hodag to be a very provocative conversation piece,” Kennedy is said to have remarked, “and are delighted to have so interesting a souvenir of our visit to Rhinelander.”
Hoax or myth, the hodag is an inescapable part of Rhinelander. Even as the town is pulled inexorably into our modern age, the hodag remains a reminder of the town’s logging history. These days, some of the downtown storefronts my be sitting empty, as a Walmart has set up shop on Highway 17 (not far from the quaintly named Hodag Guns & Loan), but you can still buy officially branded hodag merchandise on the shelves of that very same Walmart.
Featured image: Dave Hoefler / Unsplash
