by Kelly Reeves
It was a warm, rainy summer night with an almost full moon, not ideal conditions for a ‘coon hunt, but we weren’t going to be deterred. The calming silence was only interrupted by the sound of crickets, bullfrogs, katydids, and cicadas.
An occasional owl hooting broke the monotony of the song they were singing. I found myself standing at the edge of a watermelon field enjoying the serenity of the woods and the flickering fireflies when I heard a loud “YAAAAAAAAAW” echo through the timber. The course, raspy bawl of the Walker hound made the hairs stand up on the back of my neck when he “opened up” to let us know he smelled the track of an old ‘coon. Raccoon some folks call them, but just a ‘coon to most southern folks. No matter what you call them, this one was in for some trouble that night because Poker Face (Phroggers Poker Phace on his papers) was hot on his trail in the nearby woods.
I grew up ‘coon hunting ever since I was big enough to go. Friday and Saturday nights were spent chasing hounds through the river bottoms. I’d also try to go one night during the week. The other nights, I just dreamed about ‘coon hunting and counted down the days ‘til Friday night. That said, I haven’t been ‘coon hunting in the last thirty years or so. When Lesley Goode, Bill Stewart, and Rodney Davis of Van Zandt County, Texas invited me to go with them and see some good hound work I couldn’t refuse. Lucky for us old guys, we had Jonah Goode (Lesley’s grandson), and Jacob Stewart (Bill’s son) along to handle the tough stuff for us.
I met up with the group of hunters at Bill Stewart’s kennel shortly before dark. The men and boys were getting prepared for the night’s hunt, putting on their rubber boots, and checking their lights, and other equipment necessary for a night in the woods. I wasn’t the only one watching them prepare for the hunt. The hounds in the kennel saw the men getting ready and all were barking in anticipation of the hunt. Unfortunately for them, this night was just going to be a one-dog hunt as Rodney Davis was preparing his hound, Poker Face, for an upcoming competition hunt and wanted to hunt him solo. The other hounds would have to wait for another night. Poker Face is a beautiful young Treeing Walker hound that came from a long line of ‘coon hunting champions. He is well on his way to becoming a champion himself.
Rodney buckled a GPS tracking collar and a shock collar on Poker Face, loaded him in the dog box, and off we all went to the woods. “Technology has come a long way,” said Rodney. That is an understatement. The GPS tracking collar’s receiver shows an overhead satellite view of the entire area and has a marker for the hound, and the hunter. This allows the hunter to know exactly where his hound is, exactly how far away he is and shows if the hound is moving or treed. The shock collar is just for correction of undesirable actions like running game other than ‘coons. With all the preparations made, we loaded Poker Face in the dog box and headed for the woods. Bill Stewart was two weeks out of a total knee replacement surgery. This might have slowed him down a little but it wasn’t going to keep him at home. Bill was the driver, navigator, and guide for our group. It was obvious that he and Lesley Goode had spent enough time in these woods that they knew them like the back of their hands.
When we arrived at the spot they decided to hunt, Rodney led Poker Face to the edge of the woods and cast him in the direction he wanted the hound to hunt. When released, Poker Face left with his nose to the ground searching for a ringtail. Poker Face was silent as he hunted. Bill, Lesley, and Rodney kept track of the hound’s location by watching the GPS receiver. Lesley stated, “He ought to strike one in there where he is now.” He was correct. It wasn’t long before Poker Face opened up with that long course bawl mouth, “YAAAAAAAAAW” letting us know he smelled a ‘coon. Several seconds later Poker Face let out another long “YAAAAAAAW.” After a few minutes of trailing the ‘coon, the barks began to get more frequent and Poker Face was on the move. The closer he got to the ‘coon, the more frenzied the barking became. “YAAAW, YAAAW, YAAAW.” “He is treed,” said Rodney. Bill, looking at his GPS receiver, stated “He is treed 435 yards away.” With that, we all turned our lights on and started walking toward the tree. The woods were thick with briars and vines making walking in the dark quite difficult. Along the way, we battled old barbed wire fences, knee-deep creeks, berry vines, armadillo holes, and more saw briars than most folks will see in a lifetime. Jacob and Jonah, the boys, seemed to navigate the woods with ease, as the rest of us struggled. As we got to the tree we saw Poker Face standing on his hind legs with his front feet stretched up the trunk of a big oak tree barking every breath. We all took a position around the tree, turned up the brightness of our lights, and began searching for the ‘coon among the limbs and leaves of the big tree. The ‘coon was well hidden from sight and refused to look down at us making it difficult to locate the masked bandit. Rodney had a trick up his sleeve, though. He had a thermal monocular in his pocket that allowed him to locate the ‘coon in short order. Once the ‘coon was found, Rodney praised and petted Poker Face, hooked up his leash, and we headed back to the vehicle leaving that ‘coon to be treed again another night.
We drove a short distance away and Rodney turned Poker Face loose casting him into another scope of woods. It wasn’t long before Poker Face struck another ‘coon track and let us know with his loud, raspy bawl echoing through the timber, “YAAAAAAAAAAAW.” This track was colder and took a few minutes for Poker Face to work out. He soon had the ‘coon up and running, and with Poker Face hot on his trail, the ‘coon had to get up a tree. “YAAAW, YAAAW, YAAAW!,” said Poker Face. Rodney said, “He’s treed. Let’s go.” Into the woods we went. We fought our way through the briars and brambles again and soon arrived at the tree with Poker Face. He was quite excited. He had his feet on the tree and was jumping as high as he could. He was chewing on vines and barking every breath. Rodney let his hound continue to tree while we all began searching for the ‘coon with our lights. Finding the ‘coon is a lot harder this time of year due to the leaves. These big oaks have so many branches and forks, combined with full foliage, makes hiding pretty easy for the ‘coon. If the ‘coon will look down, his eye’s reflection in the light beam makes it much easier to locate him. Many times the ‘coon refuses to look down, so the hunters may only be able to see his ringed tail hanging over a limb, or one ear showing above a limb. After locating the ‘coon, Rodney leashed Poker Face and petted and praised him before we made the journey back to the vehicle leaving the ‘coon to be treed again another night.
Coon hunting is not always about the kill. Many years ago, ‘coon hunting paid the bills for a lot of people. The old timers ‘coon hunted to sell the furs and put meat on the table. That’s not really the case anymore. The furs aren’t worth much and there are much better options for the table. ‘Coon hunting is more about the excitement of watching a young hound progress in his training. It’s about watching your hound learn the ‘coon’s tricks and work them out. For a lot of hunters, it is about the competition of hound versus hound, and man versus man. It’s about the friendship and camaraderie of the men you hunt with, and teaching the next generation of hunters. Lesley Goode, Rodney Davis, and Bill Stewart are doing their part in keeping this classic tradition alive and teaching the next generation what ‘coon hunting is all about. These young hunters like Jacob and Jonah are learning a lot more than ‘coon hunting when they are spending time with Christian men that are setting good examples for the young guys to imitate. They are learning how to problem solve, like finding the best place to cross a creek or fence. They are learning toughness, like Bill going ‘coon hunting a few days after a complete knee replacement. They are learning work ethic, as they see Lesley work a twelve-hour shift running his business before the hunt and know he will be doing it again in just a few hours. They can’t help but learn how to navigate the woods and train a ‘coon hound when tagging along with Rodney. He is as much ‘at home’ in the woods as the ‘coons are. The time the young hunters are spending with these men is teaching them how to be men.
This nostalgic night of ‘coon hunting brought back many memories, and stories of past hunts and long-gone hunters and hounds. It was a night filled with fun and laughter I won’t soon forget. If you, or your kids, ever get the opportunity to spend a night traipsing through the dark woods in the time-honored tradition of ‘coon hunting, please go. Whether it makes a ‘coon hunter out of you or not, you’ll have a night to remember for years to come.
