The Ozark Hellbender: What an Old Jeep Taught Us About Conservation
Let’s talk about an endangered species—our classic Wagoneer—and how their stories unexpectedly intersect.
At Mollyjogger, we don’t like to take ourselves too seriously. In fact, we chose our namesake because we were inspired by the “no-account, fun-loving, hard-drinking” folks who made up the original Mollyjoggers rod & gun club. There’s a lot of seriousness in the world, and we’re just fine with forgetting about it in the woods for a while. Mark Twain said it best:
“Humor is the great thing, the saving thing after all. The minute it crops up, all our hardnesses yield, all our irritations and resentments flit away, and a sunny spirit takes their place.”
But when the party’s over and it’s time to pack up camp, we have to ask ourselves: What do we stand for?
It’s not enough to sell products or build a brand—we want to leave the world a little better than we found it.
That’s what this story is about. And, just like “Mollyjogger,” our answer is wrapped up in a name: The Hellbender.
If Mollyjogger is our spirit, the Hellbender is what keeps us grounded.
$1,100 Well-Spent
We’ve got a soft spot for old Jeep Wagoneers. There’s something about the slight window rattle, the knobs you actually turn, and the clunk of the transmission that takes us straight back to simpler times.
That nostalgia led us to a dark green 1977 Wagoneer tucked away near Roaring River State Park, Missouri. It had been sitting in a garage for 16 years—unloved and untouched. But we saw potential.
When it came up for auction, we figured we’d take a swing. The bidding opened… and stayed quiet. Maybe the vintage SUV craze hadn’t hit Missouri yet, because we picked it up for just $1,100.
We hauled our new investment (read: money pit) to The Jeep Farm. They brought it back to life—finished in rich “Coleman green” pulled straight from a lantern we sent them, V8 360 rebuilt, a modest lift, and some off-road tires to finish the job. The “original SUV” was finally ours.
But it still needed a name.
We called it The Hellbender.
Big, Green, and Rare
So what the hell is a hellbender?
Our story winds through backroads and backwaters—from that Wagoneer near Cassville to the crystal-clear Ozark streams nearby. Meet the Ozark Hellbender, a rare, elusive salamander that glides through cool, rocky rivers, hiding beneath slabs of stone.
You probably haven’t seen one. And that’s part of the problem.
The Ozark Hellbender is endangered. And, strangely enough, it became the perfect namesake—because like the Jeep, it’s rare, rugged, and worth keeping around.
Big. Green. Resilient. Whether it’s a winding road or a cold spring-fed creek, the hellbender and the Wagoneer still endure. With a lifespan of up to 40 years, the hellbender earns its name—and yes, it sounds badass.
But here’s the thing: we don’t want the Ozark Hellbender to go the way of the Wagoneer—relics of a past era, admired only in photos or captivity.
The Case for Conservation
Their numbers are falling fast. Toxic runoff and mining are polluting their habitat. River traffic is disturbing their rocky shelters. And disease is wiping out whole populations.
Like trout, the hellbender is an indicator species. If they’re healthy, the ecosystem is healthy. If they vanish, it’s a red flag for everyone.
And while it might not be the most glamorous cause, we believe in conservation for conservation’s sake.
As Aldo Leopold put it:
“To those devoid of imagination, a blank place on the map is a useless waste; to others, the most valuable part.”
If hellbenders are thriving and we never see one? We’re okay with that. Some things are worth saving just so they can stay wild.
Across the Ozarks—from the Eleven Point River to the Spring River and beyond—scientists are doing what they can. Captive breeding efforts, like those at the St. Louis Zoo Hellbender Conservation Program, offer hope. But time is short.
“The Ozark hellbender is a species that’s been declining for many years, and we’re trying to do our best to save this animal right now.”
—Jeff Briggler, Missouri Department of Conservation
“We don’t have hard data to point to one cause. Time will tell. All we can do is try.”
—Kelly Irwin, Arkansas Game & Fish Commission
It’s the Little Things
So why are we telling this story?
Because running a business comes with a footprint. We use materials. We ship products. We burn fuel. And we believe it’s our responsibility to offset that impact however we can.
Beyond recyclable packaging and durable materials, we think about the bigger picture.
Sometimes that means focusing on the smallest things—like a foot-long salamander few people ever see.
The Ozark Hellbender, like our Jeep Wagoneer, is still hanging in there. And if we can do a little restoration work—on ecosystems and old iron alike—we just might give it a shot at a longer life.
That’s why we support groups like the James River Basin Partnership, working to protect the rivers, forests, and blank spots on the map that matter most.
Because the fight for conservation isn’t won all at once—it’s won in the little things. In everyday choices. In local efforts. In quiet, steady conversations.
Let this be one of them.
Pick up a piece of trash. Talk to your local officials. See if your conservation department needs a hand. Or just start a conversation about the things worth saving.
One Last Thing
If you see our old Wagoneer still rolling down a gravel road, tip your cap to the Ozark Hellbender. At 48 years old, it doesn’t get around like it used to—and the gas mileage isn’t great—but it still starts on a dime and keeps moving forward.
Smiles per mile over miles per gallon.
Let’s make sure the Ozark Hellbender can do the same.
See you out on the creek.
