Glacier's famous Mountain Goats

 Woops! A Marmot scampers under legs and across feet to the large outcropping of rock on its way to a sunny spot where it can soak up the sunshine on the side of Clements Mountain. Children shreek excitedly, and adults laugh. I hear a mother tell a child “ask the Ranger, honey.” 

       The young girl approaches and, pointing at the fat Marmot, asks “what is that?” Most visitors have never seen a Marmot and so a host of cameras were immediately pointed at the chubby rodent. He didn't notice or care. While all eyes are on the Marmot, a Gold Mantled Ground Squirrel takes advantage of the distraction to check out bags and backpacks that have been left on the overlook boardwalk. This group of visitors had done a good job keeping the area clean, so the ground squirrel headed off elsewhere in search of food.

A Nanny at Hidden Lake Overlook
She looks a bit shaggy because she's losing her winter coat.

About that time a band of Mountain Goats wandered into view and the Marmot was no longer the center of attention. This was why I am here. Our trail patrol was designed and initiated for the purpose of managing human – Mountain Goat interaction. Nothing makes me happier than to have people ask a lot of questions about the Mountain Goats instead of running out across the fragile alpine vegetation trying to get a close-up picture of a goat.

The Mountain Goat (Oreamnos Americanus) is not actually a goat. The name Oreamnos means literally mountain (ore) lamb (amnos), but it isn't a sheep. Scientifically the Mountain Goat is a part of the Rupicaprid “tribe” - a subdivision of the large and diverse Bovidae family which includes true goats and sheep, antelope, bison, and cattle. Rupes means rock and capra means goat. There are only five species of Rupicaprids in the world – three in Asia, one in Europe and our own Mountain Goats who live in the high mountains of northwest US, western Canada and parts of Alaska. These animals are unique and a magnificent example of an animal that has very successfully adapted to its environment.

Most visitors will also ask why they haven't seen any Big Horn Sheep. We are at an elevation of 7,200 feet. They are amazed to learn that the Mountain Goat lives much higher up the mountains than the Big Horn. If you put it on a graph, the Mountain Goats lowest elevation point starts about mid-way up the Big Horn's range and goes very much higher. I tell them that they have to go back down to the Alpine meadow almost 1,000 feet below us where the Big Horn hang out.

Today there were two Nannies (mature female goats) with kids (offspring born within the past several weeks). That always attracts a crowd. One of the Nannies was being followed around by a small yearling. It may or may not have been her kid from last season. The Mountain Goat herd consists of solitary individuals and small bands. A band may be as few as two to five animals or as many as 10-15. The band that was wondering through our area consisted of three Nannies, four or five yearlings and two kids, and the crowd was going wild. As many times as I've experienced it, it is still a thrill to be so close to these famous mountain climbers who are the symbol of Glacier National Park. I'm mindful of that thrill when I try to maintain some semblance of order and a safe distance between humans and Mountain Goats, but it is somewhat comparable to herding cats.

The two kids our visitors were watching we born high on a mountain ledge. They were walking within hours and by the end of the first day were doing, or at least trying, aerial acrobatics along the narrow ledge. For the first five days or so the Nanny keeps her kid isolated. The kid spends a lot of time right under its mother, looking out from behind her stocky, muscled legs.

A Billy on Mt Obelin wearing his
summer coat

The Mountain Goat is marvelously adapted to climbing and traversing the steep mountains. In fact, they spend some seventy percent of their time in terrain with an angle of repose – the steepness of the ground – of over 40 degrees. To get some idea of how steep this is, visualize the pitch of the roof of a house built in snow country so that the snow naturally slides off because of the angle. Such a roof is probably 40 degrees or more. Their bodies are a natural work of art designed to move through the seemingly impassable. Douglas H. Chadwick, author of the goatwatcher's bible entitled “A beast the color of winter”, tells of observing a Mountain Goat that wandered out on an ever narrowing ledge. When it looked as though the billy (male goat) could go no further he went further. Finally he did get to a point where he could not go on. He appeared stuck and not even able to back up. After standing there for a while he lifted his hindquarters straight up and over his head until his back legs touched down and he was facing in the opposite question. Gymnasts call this slow-motion cartwheel a “rollover” and the Mountain Goat billy did it while perched on a narrow ledge high on a mountain side. Chadwick also tells about seeing goats perched on outcroppings that are so dangerous that it looks like the goat is in great peril, only to see the goat lift a back leg and scratch its ear.

The Mountain Goats roaming the area around Hidden Lake overlook are unfortunately extremely habituated – accustomed to being around people. They will tolerate humans within feet of them and, if they want the same narrow path along a snowfield, they'll walk right over your feet as you lean back against the snow. It is so neat to be so close but there is a deadly down-side to habituation. The Mountain Goats are starved for salt after an entire winter with almost no sodium. They will lick automotive fluids from a parking lot or look for where a person has urinated along the trail. The habituated animal gets closer and closer and will eventually get a sample of human food. Taking food from humans is a lot easier than finding its own and that is when it becomes really bad. The animal will start taking risks in order to get the food until they end up getting hit by a car or in physical conflict with humans. We try very hard to make sure that visitors understand that the reason that it is illegal to feed the animals is because it is so detrimental to their health and welfare. People who ignore this can count on receiving an expensive “educational coupon” (ticket) from a Law Enforcement Ranger. If I see it happening while we are on patrol, I don't have the authority to give a ticket, but I have a radio that will ensure the person is met at the trail-head by someone who can.

A kid at Hidden Lake Overlook

On this day the kids were venturing a bit farther from mom than they ever had, but mom was not far away. Mountain Goats look so gentle and peaceful but their social order is almost as harsh as the terrain in which they live. Yearlings and adults who are down the pecking order from mom will often pick on the kids. Visitors are surprised to see a Nanny chase a yearling away. In reality, the Mountain Goat can be quite deadly. When they feel threatened or are highly agitated they lower their heads and swing their sharp horns from side to side. If you see that behavior you want to get as far away as possible. There was a tragic case in Olympia National Park where a Mountain Goat was following a group of hikers. One of the hikers left the group and went back to the goat to chase it away. In his attempts to “haze” the goat he agitated it to the point that it attacked and actually eviscerated the man. He died a short while later.

As the goats approached I used the opportunity to talk with large groups of people about goat-human etiquette, and the people this day were being very good. Park rules say that you are to stay 25 yards from animals other than bears (100 yards from a bear) but the goats would frequently move toward the people. I was proud of the visitors as I watched them back away to give the goats more room.

After a long session of pictures where the nanny appeared to parade her kid, who bounced from one spot to another like he was being propelled by sudden and erratic bursts of energy among the amazed and awestruck visitors, she led him off to a thicket where the kid laid down on a warm rock for a nap while the nanny kept watch nearby. Some visitors followed but stood respectfully away from the thicket.

I stood at a distance and got an energy bar and Gatorade out of my backpack. The up close encounters had gone well. I was pleased and felt relaxed as I munched on the energy bar while watching the remaining goats feed nearby. My job was to protect them while enabling the human visitors the opportunity to observe these magnificent creatures. As you might suspect, it doesn't always go this well. Obviously, if it did go this well every time, I wouldn't have a job. I would love to lose my job because humans and Mountain Goats could co-exit and share space without trouble. But that isn't going to happen any time soon. In the mean time, I have one of the most rewarding jobs in the park.   

NOTE:  Glacier is home to one of the largest populations of Mountain Goats in North America.