The new kid in town is PKC, restructured in 1998. PKC hunts are as much about cash as status, and they attract plenty of attention. The PKC has doubled in size in the last nine years and now sanctions 8,000 night coon hunts each year. Both groups claim a growing number of young hunters, but it's the PKC that seems to draw the most attention from the next generation. (In both cases, the hunt is about the chase. Coons aren't shot during sanctioned hunts.)

It's likely that most "recreational" coon hunters participate in competition hunts to some degree. But competitions, especially the PKC cash-award hunts, have changed the sport, the hunters, and the hounds. Even the old-timers at Square B will admit: The competition hunts have brought new life to coon hunting.

"They say we're a dying breed, but we're not," says Gean. "The competition hunts have just about saved coon hunting. These younger hunters like the money. They like to see their names in the standings. That's a part of it. But once they start in on it, it's just the plain fun that keeps 'em hooked. I left a 14-year-old at home with tears in his eyes 'cause he couldn't come last night."

Into the Night
Thirty seconds after the third drop of our second night in the woods, a little bluetick, Belle, strikes trail. Hopeless chimes in, then Buzz. Kenny Holden grins. "Ole Buzz'll make it up when it comes time to tree," he says.

The dogs are a few hundred yards away. They trail for two minutes, now three, as we stand in a little knot, lights off, leaning toward the sounds of the hunt. The chase goes quiet for a moment, then Rowdy cuts back in, now Hopeless with a squeaky bark like a stab. To the untrained ear it's a confused melee of baying yelps, but the hunters parse the bedlam into which dog is on track, who's getting hotter, who's lost the trail.
"That scream, that's Rowdy. He's leaving them other dogs."

"Belle is going uphill. She's hot, now. She's onto something."

"That's the blue dog, huh? Kinda coarse-mouthed?"

"Uh-oh, what's that?" says Holden.