Holding Onto The Pages

Before everything was instant, before updates, posts, and notifications, there was a different kind of anticipation. The kind that came from waiting on a magazine in the mailbox or logging onto a slow computer, hoping to learn something new. Looking back now, I realize those moments didn’t just pass the time, they helped shape who I am today.

This past week, I was listening to the Tree Talking Time podcast, and I was flooded with nostalgia. As Ben and Carl talked about coondawgs.com and squirreldogcentral.com, I was immediately taken back to my middle school years. There were many days and nights when I’d plug in the Ethernet cable, turn on the computer, and spend hours soaking up any information I could from those two websites.

The banner of Taylor’s Made Rasputin being named coondawgs.com Dog of the Year will forever be etched in my mind. I’d spend hours in the Redbone stud dog forums, hanging on every post. There was so much to learn about bloodlines. The general forum pulled me in too, full of training advice and stories from the woods. I was completely enthralled.

SquirrelDogCentral was another place that held my attention. I loved the games, but even more, I loved the wealth of information on squirrel dogs. I soaked it all in, and even now, 15 years later, I still use some of that training advice.

As the podcast went on, my mind drifted to the magazines I used to get. Every month, I eagerly waited for my copy of Coonhound Bloodlines. I’d read it cover to cover, then read it again, until the next issue arrived. My favorite editions were the Redbone and Bluetick issues. I’d study every stud dog, pore over pedigrees, and learn the names behind the dogs. That’s where my knowledge of bloodlines really began.

Back then, I didn’t have Facebook or instant updates. The magazines were how I found out who won the big hunts. It was always exciting to open an issue and see who made the front cover, whether it was the Winter Classic or the World Hunt winner.

Each month, I’d even write into the “Next Generation News” column, sharing stories from my hunts and competitions. When I’d go to the local club, people would come up and tell me they’d read what I wrote. That always meant a lot, it still does.

Every year, we’d take a trip to squirrel camp. We’d hunt in the mornings, rest during the day, then head back out in the afternoon, and finish with a coon hunt after dark. During those breaks, I’d dig into my uncle’s stack of Full Cry magazines. There was so much knowledge in those pages, and I loved every second of it. He also had years’ worth of American Treeing Feist Association yearbooks that I’d read cover to cover. I just loved flipping through and seeing the dogs and the hunts people had been on.

I still have years’ worth of Coonhound Bloodlines and Prohound magazines in a box in my closet. My wife has asked me why I keep them, and the answer is simple: I want my kids to be able to look at history, the kind of history that’s preserved in those pages.

Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy getting on Facebook and seeing what everyone’s up to. It’s convenient. But there’s something different, something better, about opening a magazine and reading real stories from the woods. You can feel the time, effort, and dedication that houndsmen have poured into their dogs.

I hate to see the old forums fade away. Facebook may be faster, but those websites had depth. People took time to write, to explain, to tell stories, not just post a quick update.

Even now, I still look forward to the mailbox every month. These days it’s Gun Dog, Wildfowl, Quail Forever, Full Cry, and Game and Fish. It probably drives my wife a little crazy, but the moment one comes in, I’m flipping through every page, soaking up advice, reading stories, and learning something new.

And maybe one day, things will keep changing. Maybe the pages will get fewer, and the screens will take over even more. But I hope that never fully replaces what those magazines gave us.

Because some things aren’t meant to be rushed.

Some things are meant to be held in your hands, flipped through slowly, and remembered long after the last page is turned.

And for me, those pages will always be worth holding onto.