Goats In Smoke

Day 334: While I was down at Lodi Creek, Joe and Sharon were counting goats. The final tally was something over 20, as I recall, arranged in several small groups along the ridgeline. Some were resting. Others were looking for forage among the tough scrub characteristic of this habitat, but all looking quite well-fed. Oreamnos americanus is particularly suited to this environment. Their hooves are equipped with flexible inner pads which act like suction cups and give them grip on the smooth, slick surfaces of rock slabs and ice. They also have dewclaws which add stability and traction. Their wool...well, lemme tell you about that, okay?

I've been a spinner for a long time, and back in the days when I was a bit of a mountain goat myself, I spent a lot of time climbing the same scree slopes and rocky ridges which Oreamnos finds so attractive. I often found clumps of their wool on the ground.  I knew that the native peoples of the area had used it for clothing and insulation, so I set about collecting as much of it as I could find. After I'd gathered roughly a gallon Ziploc full, I began trying to clean it for spinning. First, I removed the long guard hairs which protect the soft undercoat. That reduced the volume of material by about 50%. Then I started trying to pick out the larger bits of goat dander and found that for every flake of dandruff I pulled out, two or three soft hairs came with it. It soon became clear to me that the yield from a gallon of wool was probably going to be a little string about six inches long once it was spun up, so I abandoned the project with a new and refreshing perspective on the diligence of hunter-gatherers. Trust me, it would have taken a long time and a lot of walking to gather enough wool to make a pair of mitts or a hat. No, I think I'll buy my wool in bags, cleaned and processed and ready for the wheel.

Classic Mountain Goat Photo

Day 3: My first thought was, "Oh, Joe is going to be so jealous!" My botany partner has been searching for goats all summer, and even as I was climbing past Handsome Billy en route to Panorama Point, Joe was off on his own "last hike of autumn" to Pinnacle Peak saddle. Billy was lying down when I first spotted him above the junction to Pebble Creek, roughly 100 feet from me. Having had a few goat experiences during my career, I wasn't going to try to get closer. I'd rather have to deal with a bear in the backcountry than a goat. You can reason with a bear if you gently explain that you need to reach your destination and don't try to force it to give ground. A territorial goat is another matter entirely, particularly a male. I edged a few feet up the Pebble Creek trail for a view clear or foreground rocks, but even that slight encroachment made Billy turn his attention toward me. Nope, deeming it not worth the risk to get closer, I retreated. Further along the trail, I looked back. Billy was on his feet now, backed by grey rocks in a classic mountain goat pose. As I zoomed in for the shot, I thought again of Joe, somewhere over there in the goatless Tatoosh, but I knew he'd be getting some spectacular photos of his own.

But enough of me. You're here because you want to know something about mountain goats, right? Ever wonder how they get out on some of those ledges, or more to the point, why they don't fall off? It's the hooves. A goat's hoof is cloven into two "toes," and each portion consists of a hard outer shell of keratin, the same stuff (goat version) which makes up your fingernails. Draw a teardrop-shape in your mind. That's the exterior of each toe. The center portion of the teardrop contains a rough-surfaced but soft pad not too unlike the pads on your dog or cat's feet. That soft portion functions like a suction cup when the goat steps onto a slick rock. To give even better traction, a goat's toes are somewhat flexible, spreading apart as weight is put on the hoof. This isn't saying that goats never make fatal judgment errors, but it happens rarely enough that you're almost as likely to find rock-climber bones at the base of a cliff as you are goat remains. Almost.