Why Jeep Owners Embrace Jeep Ducks & the Jeep Ducking Trend

I built my first Jeep the summer I turned sixteen in 1988, and I was an idiot. (It could be legitimately argued that I’m still an idiot...but never mind that now). The body and frame belonged to an ‘83 CJ-8 that had been wrecked, and a blown ‘79 AMC 304 motor. I built the Jeep in the greasy corner of a dedicated off-road Jeep shop that belonged to a family friend. The garage had a steady stream of Jeep enthusiasts constantly flowing through, employees and customers alike. Up behind that shop there was a mountain full of old logging roads and Jeep trails where the new Jeep modifications could quickly be tested.

Over time I found that, regardless of whatever questionable decision I made in the garage, or rookie mistake I made on the trail, folks were always eager to share a laugh and a story. Quite often it began with, “Yeah, I did that one time too,” or “Oh, that’s not half as bad as when I…” which put me at ease. These stories weren’t just reassurances; they were an invitation to learn. Don’t get me wrong, I endured plenty of jabs and ribbing, but all of it came with a good-natured grin and a twinkling eye. With every tip and trick they offered, I felt less like a clueless kid, and more like part of the crew. I discovered that the heart of the Jeep Community wasn’t Jeeps, it’s the people. That’s the magic of Jeepers; they don’t just help you fix your rig; they make you feel like you belong.

That's why the Jeep community has so-readily embraced Jeep Ducks and the Jeep Ducking Trend. The quirky little bathtub toys have become a symbol...a friendly nod... that we see each other, we help each other, and we belong.

There’s a certain kind of person who chooses a Jeep. Jeeps ride like wagons, leak in the rain (or we hope that’s the only thing leaking), and make noises that might raise an eyebrow, but we wouldn’t have it any other way. It’s all part of the deal --the open air, the dirt under your tires, and the visceral connection to every bolt and gear. Sure, we might crank up the radio to drown out a suspicious lifter ticking, but that’s just Jeep Life. It’s about finding comfort in the uncomfortable; it’s about feeling alive, soaking up the elements (sometimes literally from a wet Jeep seat), and knowing your machine inside and out.

We don’t drive a Jeep because we want to be able to go fast, we drive a Jeep because we want to be able to go anywhere. Jeepers don’t chase luxury; we chase freedom. It’s the confidence that comes with knowing your rig can handle a rocky trail, a muddy backroad, or a trip to the grocery store. That “Jeep hair, don’t care” shared mindset unites us. We’re not here for the pavement; we’re here for the road less traveled.

The Jeep Community is more than transportation in common, and it's more than a hobby; it's a way of life. It’s the stranger who becomes a friend over a shared wrench, a needed winch, and the understanding that the Jeep Life comes with a little grit. That’s what keeps us wrenching, mudding, crawling, waving, and now … ducking, together.

The kindness-inspired act of Jeep Ducking isn’t anything new, it’s the Jeep Life we’ve always known.

Here she is...my first Jeep...and the beginning of a life-long love for all that encompasses the Jeep Life. The body and frame belonged to a 1983 CJ-8 that had been wrecked. I stripped and refinished those sideboards. I think the hood and the bumper were from a CJ-7 that I found in a junk yard, but I bought those wheels. They were hard chrome because I didn't have enough for aluminum, but I thought they looked tough, and I sure put them through a lot.

The motor was a blown 1979 AMC 304. We had to bore it out to 30-over, which technically makes it 309 cubic inches instead of 304. I cobbled together enough money for the boring but not the honing, so my friend gave me a drill bit attachment with a tree of honing stones, and I sat there all day long going up and down the cylinder walls with that drill attachment, which may be why I burned through piston rings all the time...