Back a number of years ago a few of us from Calgary hunted late pheasants in Montana around the Conrad/Choteau area. The leader of our group was a small guy who liked to organize and control and had a passion for wild pheasants. We called him the 'Little General' to his face and he prided in it. He controlled the hunts, where we were going. when to get there. etc. I'm sure you all know this guy.... Well on one morning we were hurried out of bed, no breakfast just a big push from the Little General. Next to our motel was a drive though coffee hut and I stopped my truck to get a latte. It was taking a while and the Little General was in the truck behind me with a few hunters. Well I guess he was beside himself that I seemed to be in no hurry and it was taking a bit of time. I was told he nearly climbed through the front windshield with his cussing. We get to a big CRP field and set up along the edge with a few of us pushing from inside. No birds. Not a one. Those pheasant has a clock and when the clock ticked 8:00am they left the CRP for a valley of swathed but not harvested grain. A field we could not get permission on. We were 'only' twenty minutes late. I've never lived that down and when I now hunt with the Little General no lattes for me.
