Hodag

The hodag occupies one of the more colorful corners of North American folklore, a creature born in the lumber camps of Wisconsin during the late nineteenth century and nurtured by an atmosphere of tall tales, rough humor, and the need for stories that could ease the strain of hard physical labor.

Its origins trace most famously to Rhinelander, Wisconsin, where local prankster and timber cruiser Eugene Shepard first described the beast in 1893 as a fearsome, crocodilian monster with horns, spikes, and a voracious appetite for white bulldogs.

The story emerged at a time when the northern forests were alive with legends invented by loggers who delighted in showcasing their wit, and the hodag fit naturally among the “fearsome critters” of camp mythology. Shepard initially claimed he and a group of lumbermen had killed the animal using dynamite,

and he even produced a grotesque photograph of the supposed remains to prove its existence. The tale quickly spread, aided by regional newspapers that reveled in the strangeness of frontier life, and it took hold so firmly in local imagination that the creature became a fixture in

Rhinelander’s identity almost immediately. Shepard refined the hoax in 1896 when he unveiled a preserved hodag at the Oneida County Fair. The mounted beast twitched and moved, seemingly alive, thanks to hidden wires and Shepard’s crew manipulating it from behind a curtain. Crowds flocked to see it,

and national publications picked up the story, prompting curiosity as well as skepticism. The hoax collapsed when the Smithsonian Institution announced its intention to send scientists to collect a specimen, at which point Shepard admitted the creature had been manufactured out of wood, ox hide, and a liberal application of paint.

Instead of embarrassing him, the confession only strengthened the hodag’s place in local tradition. It was a hoax so bold and good-natured that it became part of the region’s charm, illustrating the way tall tales can transcend their own implausibility and become folkloric truths in a cultural rather than literal sense. The legacy of the hodag is deeply woven into the civic identity of Rhinelander.

The creature became the city’s mascot, appearing on signs, logos, festivals, and merchandise, and serving as a symbol of local pride. Rhinelander High School adopted the Hodags as its athletic name, and businesses throughout the region embrace the creature’s likeness as a marker of community heritage. The annual Hodag Country Festival, a major music event drawing large audiences,

takes its name from the mythical beast and stands as a testament to the enduring appeal of Shepard’s invention. Sculptures of hodags appear throughout the town, and the Rhinelander visitor’s center displays a modern recreation, preserving the blend of humor, myth, and regional identity that the original hoax helped solidify. Over time, the hodag has grown from a loggers’ prank into a symbol that unites folklore, tourism, and hometown spirit.

One of the more unusual extensions of the hodag myth appears far from Wisconsin, at the Hoodoo Ski Area in Oregon. The ski area features a statue known locally as the “Hoodoo Hodag,” a playful import of the creature into a new setting that blends Pacific Northwest lodge culture with Midwestern tall-tale tradition. Although the Oregon hodag has no historical connection to Shepard’s creation, its adoption demonstrates the portability of American folklore and the way mythical creatures can be repurposed to create atmosphere,