The Punk-Rock Caterpillar at High Cliff State Park

I was out at High Cliff State Park in early July when I spotted this little character on a leaf, and I stopped in my tracks. It looks like something a kid would draw if you asked them to invent the fanciest caterpillar they could think of: a bright red head, four white tufts standing straight up off its back like a row of shaving brushes, long black plumes sticking out front and back, and a couple of red spots near the tail for good measure. I got in close with the camera, and I’m glad I did.

Turns out it has a name, and it lives right here in Wisconsin: the white-marked tussock moth caterpillar (Orgyia leucostigma).

How to know you’re looking at one

Once you’ve seen the field marks, this one is hard to mistake for anything else. Here’s what to look for, all of which you can see in the photo:

• A red or orange head.
• Four dense, creamy-white tufts on the back, over the first four segments. These are the “tussocks” the moth is named for, and they really do look like tiny toothbrushes.
• Two long black plumes pointing forward past the head, and one more pointing back off the tail.
• Two little red bumps further down the back, on segments six and seven.
• A black stripe down the middle of the back with a yellow stripe on either side of it.

They only get to about an inch or an inch and a half long, so it’s easy to walk right past one. This one was maybe the length of my thumb.

A few things worth knowing

It’s not picky about lunch. This is one of the least fussy eaters in the woods. White-marked tussock moth caterpillars have been recorded feeding on plants in 116 different genera: oak, cherry, willow, apple, maple, elm, basswood, rose, and on and on. That’s a big part of why they turn up just about everywhere in the eastern half of the country.

The mother never flies. Here’s the fact that got me. The adult female of this species is flightless. She has only stubs where the wings should be, so she never leaves the cocoon she grew up in. She lays her whole batch of eggs right there on top of it, covers them in a frothy white coating, and that egg mass is how the species rides out the Wisconsin winter. Come spring the eggs hatch, the tiny hairy caterpillars spread out to feed, and the cycle starts over. There can be two rounds of this in a single year.

Look, don’t touch

Here’s the safety part, and I mean it. As pretty as this caterpillar is, you do not want to pick it up. Some of those hairs are what’s called urticating, which is a fancy way of saying they’re built to irritate. They’re barbed, they can break off in your skin, and on a lot of people they cause redness, itching, and welts, sort of like a mild nettle sting. It’s not usually dangerous, but it’s no fun, and it’s harder to explain to a kid after the fact than before. Admire this one with your eyes and your camera, the way I did, and let it go about its business.

That’s the thing I keep coming back to about a place like High Cliff. You can walk the same trail a dozen times and still get stopped cold by something an inch long on a leaf, if you’re paying attention. This one was worth stopping for.

Spotted at High Cliff State Park, Sherwood, Wisconsin, July 2026.