Life on the Rocks: A Portrait of the American Mountain Goat

Chapter Two: How to Build a Goat

CHAPTER TWO How to Build a Goat DOI: 10.5876_9781607322924.c002 The mountain goat is defined by the suite of traits that permit it to defy gravity twelve months a year. Specialization starts with the feet. The hard outer walls of the hooves surround a rough yet pliable, convex pad. The animal world’s equivalent of studded tires, the hoof pads conform to rock surfaces providing positraction. The four “toes” (digits two and three comprising the cloven hoof, and digits one and four being the elevated “dew claws” on the rear of the foot) are oversized—a feature that affords a larger gripping surface and distributes the foot load for increased support on snow. The cloven hoof is more flexible than in other ungulates. As the goat descends a rocky face or steep snowfield, the toes spread apart improving balance and providing friction in an outward as well as downward direction. During descents, the goat lowers his hind quarters to bring the large dew claws into contact with rock and snow, increasing traction and control. His overall build includes short, stocky legs set relatively close together, and a compact torso with the forequarters decidedly larger than the rear (a la McKenzie and Guthrie’s “white buffler”). The heavily muscled shoulders and forelegs help him trudge through deep snow. A compact body provides a low center of gravity, balance, and uncanny agility on narrow ledges that vanish into thin air. When startled he may trot or lope, but this is not an animal built for speed. Mountain goats are the smallest of all North American ungulate offspring, weighing only thirty-five to fifty pounds during their first winter. The beard and flowing pantaloons of its mother are already evident on this ten-month-old kid. (Photo by author) Like a Spiderman of the cliffs, the mountain goat’s feats are breathtaking , and in this case for just a lick of salt. (G. Dan Hutcheson, WildPhotons) Two male bighorn sheep (Ovis canadensis), a distant relative of the mountain goat, share parts of the white climber’s North American geographic range. (Photo by author) 18 H O W T O B U I L D A G O A T Although nimble in the mountains by hoofed animal standards, North America’s Dall, Stone, and bighorn sheep (collectively called mountain sheep) possess neither the physical adaptations nor the raw ability of the mountain goat on cliffs and crags. While sheep bound crisply across outcrops and slopes, the goat is a plodder and inclined to stick to steeper terrain. Leverage, friction, and balance are the tools of his trade. The sheep are free-climbing scramblers; the goat is a technician. I’ve watched a goat climb to the top of a dizzying pinnacle and stand with all four feet together on a summit measuring only eight inches square. Then he raised a hind foot, scratched behind an ear, and shook the dust from his coat, unimpressed with the feat as I looked on in wonder. The goat’s outward appearance is marked by an extravagant robe of white. It’s from late fall into spring that he looks his most elegant, highlighted by a full beard, pantaloons that resemble baggy basketball shorts, and a dorsal ridge of hair that when backlit casts a radiant halo befitting a beast living so close to the heavens. This outer pelage of five- to seven-inch-long guard hair sheds wind and snow and protects a dense insulating mantle of underfur (goats patented the concept of layering for warmth!) as luxurious as the finest cashmere. To my eye, they are among the most photogenic of subjects. From May into August, goats metamorphose from this shaggy beast of winter into trimmer summer attire. Often last to shed is the guard hair of the pantaloons, scraggly remnants under the belly, and a goatee wisp of beard. With a fresh half-inch of wool adorning the rest of the body, the American mountain goat looks far from chic, if not comical, as the molt progresses. Only the Dall sheep of the far north shares an all white coat among ungulates. But unlike the goat, the sheep’s closely cropped summer appearance changes little during winter. When the goats began to shed their too-warm-for-summer dress in spring, indigenous peoples from Alaska to Washington plucked tufts...