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well thomas these guys that are hacking on the old blue ticks haven't ran with any good ones if they had one like mine they probally wont go back to any other kind of hound they just dont know wat good dogs are.

I agree with pretty much everthing that has been said. In my opinion, competition hunting has hurt the Treeing Walker breed and is going to hurt the Blues that is if we want to hunt them on big game. I will also agree that I do not normally like a big dog as they are many times sloppy and not as athletic as a smaller dog but there are exceptions to every rule. I have a three year old dog that is too tall and lanky for me. He weighs approx. 65 lbs. If I was still huning the brush country in South Texas he would not work for a shorter dog can get under and around in that mess better than a tall hound. In fact one of the most successful hunters around Dilley, TX was Ira Woods and he hunted bobcats with beagles.
I will have to say that the lanky 65 pound male that I raised is a very good athlete. He has great feet, huge lung capacity and can jump like a deer. This are still a few sheep and goats in this country and all fence are netting with barb over the top. Most are 4 1/2 to 5" tall and he never knows when he bounces over one. When you are running a critter down here is rare not to cross at least one fence before you catch.

My two bits:

I hunted a 100+ lb blue tick this past year before heading off to school. And he was half cameron. He was a real Cold-nosed dog--and yet he was faster than my plott hound. I agree that a big dog can be fast.

What was the other half?

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

coondawg1972 wrote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

I like the extra cold nosed riverbottems jungles and tuleys padd slues and wet woods tree lines ol fashon track down work it out coondog that shows ya every little move that coon made and as the dogs gains on him fresh/ eer new move the coon is makeing and like ya say the coon finallys stopes and its ended ! Why do I like that better/ cause it tought me whats goen on and what the coon is really doen out there and I learn every litt bit of voice change, pitch change and relate it too a vidio in my thinking so I can see it all unfold befor me. Thats supost too be part of the hunt too and helps train the hunter too a vast knowledge of game and dogs orken abilitys too.
Most point hunters don`t know what all is going on and they don`t want to imberress themselves nor too hask some one who doe know .Once ya learn it ya can call anyones dog no mater if its the first time out, ya can see the right and the wrong and the wholes in both the dogs and in the other hunters with ya that night/ its a big edge I think.

Coondogs 1972 ,

I agree what's the hurry to the tree when you are pleasure hunting ccon dogs.
I know most think of me as strictly a big game houndsman but tohers know that for years I was down and dirty hide hunter. Yep no apologies either for it. I raised a young family working several jobs and following hounds 6 to 7 nights a week and skinning over 500 fur coons a year for a bunch of years. When the fur was prime I was on the hunt and my mangy gang of scarred up cooners could make it mighty rought on the ringtail population and did in the Dakotas, Montana, Wyoming and Utah.Yes I was in a hurry to catch the fur a lot of the time and maybe would have been served better by a silent cur dog in a lot of situations, but I ran the old time spotted dogs that long bawled on the track and they never took a back seat as far as I was concerned. I wans"t color blind either and my old blue and black dogs were among the toughest of all rough country cooners. So many nights to think about I could never even start to tell all those wonderful races.

One night comes to mind at this time however. It was New Years Eve 1979 and the place was Vernal, Utah. I had a young black bitch I had got from Gene Hicks of Sweetwater, Tenn out of his great Bandit dog. She had been making trees with the other dogs and doing pretty good however she was just shy of a year old. Not being much of a party boy I decided to make a hunt on Ashely creek that night just before midnight, and I said to myself I am just taking little Belle tonight. Well it was cold and crisp and the bit of a moon was shining bright . I loaded Belle in the back of my Buick and drove to the bridge on the creek. We took off east and she was tripping along ahead of me and I was slipping on the frosty rocks with my Wick Froglegs on and my Nite Light with a winter liner on my head. She acted a bit unsure for a bit not being use to being cast withouth the older dogs, but she started working along the little creek, and there was some ice right along the edges. Not a real good night for coon, and hanging pretty close to the breakline of 28 Deg. when coons get very hard to find. I had walked about half a mile and was thinking , well it's a great night to be out here and a good way to bring in a new decade. About that time Belle's clear tenor bawl came floating back down that creek to me. My heart nearly stopped. I am not sure I breathed until I heard her open again and it sounded like she was moving out on it. Well for the next hour in and out of the Russian Olive thickets and field she trailed, and the urgency in her voice was great. I was drawn as if by giant hand to follow her. She seemed to make a lose and my heart sank as I thought how great it would be for her to tree on her own this night and have the fur. I waited almost praying somthing would happen, but silence lingered. I was just about to start to call her in when at last that clear trembling bawl came floating back to me once again. And then the changeover bawl and the clear hard chop told me she was looking up. I stumbled floundering along the creek in her direction so excited and so full of anticipation I could hardly get there it seemed like a bad dream. Suddenly I came out into a small clearing there she was , frost around her tan trimmed mouth standing on the cottonwood. Her head was thrown back and she was convinced Mr. coon was there, and he was. A huge bulk of a boar coon sat in a crotch about 20 feet of the ground staring down at us. Let me tell you the sight picture on the old Colt Woodsman was a little shakey to start with because my hadns were shaking with excitment. Finally there was a pop, and the hollowpoint foind it's mak, and the coon pitched out headshot and dead, but kicking convulsevely. Belle dived on him with a vengence, and when it was all over I sat beside her on that cold ground and hugged her close to me and told her what a good dog she was. Yes soemtimes the tree comes too soon, but that New Years Eve it came at just the right time!

Mike Leonard wrote:Coondogs 1972 ,

I agree what's the hurry to the tree when you are pleasure hunting ccon dogs.
I know most think of me as strictly a big game houndsman but tohers know that for years I was down and dirty hide hunter. Yep no apologies either for it. I raised a young family working several jobs and following hounds 6 to 7 nights a week and skinning over 500 fur coons a year for a bunch of years. When the fur was prime I was on the hunt and my mangy gang of scarred up cooners could make it mighty rought on the ringtail population and did in the Dakotas, Montana, Wyoming and Utah.Yes I was in a hurry to catch the fur a lot of the time and maybe would have been served better by a silent cur dog in a lot of situations, but I ran the old time spotted dogs that long bawled on the track and they never took a back seat as far as I was concerned. I wans"t color blind either and my old blue and black dogs were among the toughest of all rough country cooners. So many nights to think about I could never even start to tell all those wonderful races.

One night comes to mind at this time however. It was New Years Eve 1979 and the place was Vernal, Utah. I had a young black bitch I had got from Gene Hicks of Sweetwater, Tenn out of his great Bandit dog. She had been making trees with the other dogs and doing pretty good however she was just shy of a year old. Not being much of a party boy I decided to make a hunt on Ashely creek that night just before midnight, and I said to myself I am just taking little Belle tonight. Well it was cold and crisp and the bit of a moon was shining bright . I loaded Belle in the back of my Buick and drove to the bridge on the creek. We took off east and she was tripping along ahead of me and I was slipping on the frosty rocks with my Wick Froglegs on and my Nite Light with a winter liner on my head. She acted a bit unsure for a bit not being use to being cast withouth the older dogs, but she started working along the little creek, and there was some ice right along the edges. Not a real good night for coon, and hanging pretty close to the breakline of 28 Deg. when coons get very hard to find. I had walked about half a mile and was thinking , well it's a great night to be out here and a good way to bring in a new decade. About that time Belle's clear tenor bawl came floating back down that creek to me. My heart nearly stopped. I am not sure I breathed until I heard her open again and it sounded like she was moving out on it. Well for the next hour in and out of the Russian Olive thickets and field she trailed, and the urgency in her voice was great. I was drawn as if by giant hand to follow her. She seemed to make a lose and my heart sank as I thought how great it would be for her to tree on her own this night and have the fur. I waited almost praying somthing would happen, but silence lingered. I was just about to start to call her in when at last that clear trembling bawl came floating back to me once again. And then the changeover bawl and the clear hard chop told me she was looking up. I stumbled floundering along the creek in her direction so excited and so full of anticipation I could hardly get there it seemed like a bad dream. Suddenly I came out into a small clearing there she was , frost around her tan trimmed mouth standing on the cottonwood. Her head was thrown back and she was convinced Mr. coon was there, and he was. A huge bulk of a boar coon sat in a crotch about 20 feet of the ground staring down at us. Let me tell you the sight picture on the old Colt Woodsman was a little shakey to start with because my hadns were shaking with excitment. Finally there was a pop, and the hollowpoint foind it's mak, and the coon pitched out headshot and dead, but kicking convulsevely. Belle dived on him with a vengence, and when it was all over I sat beside her on that cold ground and hugged her close to me and told her what a good dog she was. Yes soemtimes the tree comes too soon, but that New Years Eve it came at just the right time!

Mike ole Mr Hicks had some good hounds over the years and a hunten buddie I huntedcwith out of Dover Tn. J>D> Byrd back in those time hunted old 8 Ball and he was a fine hound B&T also and JD use too tell me about Hicks,Tam Young,and other black and tan men from ashland,jackson & Dover and around Tn. they was the prized hounds in the 60-70 in that area.

Great story Mike Leonard you made me almost feel like I was there.

I was thinking that same thing. I could alomst see the whole story. got my blood rushin lol.
Josh

Mike
Great story! Have you ever done any writing for any of the magazines? Get in touch with me. Perhaps PM.
Thanks,
Gary

I like a cold nosed dog with a lot of track speed. Most of the blueticks I've seen have the nose but not the track speed, and a lot of them have to much tree to suit me. I'll admit I'm a speed freak, I want my dogs to be as fast as I can find, but they have to be good track dogs, a fast dog that makes a lot of bad loses won't catch anymore game than a slow dog. You may not need a lot of track speed to catch a coon or a lion, but turn loose on a tennis shoe bear or a hard running bobcat in the coastal brush and track speed will make all the difference in the world.

i agree about the track. but i would rather have a drifter who can take an old track and heat it up. trail it all the way to the tree. i don't really care for a sraddle the track hound. i like one whos smart enuff to drift it and use there nose. i had one who could lift her head and run it off the wind once she straitened it out. its a very popular line of hound i didn't believe it my self at frist. thats an old fox hound trait you wouldn't expect to see in this line lets see if anyone can quess this line of hounds. i think once i tell you you'll be surprized to

I've been looking at pictures of all breeds of coohounds for months now and I just want to hear your opinion(NOT looking to hurt anybodies feelings):
Maybe I should have asked for permission first, Liontracker.... But
- What do you think about the 11mnth male Cameron X Sugar creek Liontracker has put on the classifieds?
To me he looks like the perfekt dog. I'm kind of lost for words...
I know hunting capabilities is first priority, but that hound just says power to me.
I hope this fits into the subjekt...

Hans

Permission granted! As far as perfect, I don't know if there is a such thing. However he has enough great qualities to earn his feed.