Distinctly Montana Magazine

w w w . d i s t i n c t l y m o n t a n a . c o m 53 qualities. But it's only the billies that stink; does and wethers (castrated males) have very little smell, more like livestock than something that died and is in the process of going away. And if a person likes goat's milk, a doe can make a good pack animal with the added bonus of fresh milk in camp. Horns are op- tional, but disbudded, or dehorned goats are less of a problem. Once a goat learns why it has horns, other goats (and people) become fair targets, especially if you turn your back and bend over. But any disadvantages are cancelled by a pack goat's use- fulness. On hunting trips, I let Grover go light so there's plenty of room in his panniers for har- vested game. Often he follows me like a big dog. He doesn't spook game; instead he attracts it. For example, deer are curious and sometimes sneak up on Grover to find out what he's all about. And for people like me with a decided lack of ability to spot game, Grover usually spots the critters before I do, and lets me know by stopping and staring. On backpacking trips, Grover carries the tent, sleeping bag, cooking gear, and food. I carry the fishing gear; I don't trust that goofy goat with a $500 fly rod. Regarding the subject of food, here's another pack goat advantage. Because they eat everything (except tin cans, although Grover once tried eating a plastic flower), packing food for a goat isn't necessary. They also don't have to be shoed, they don't buck, bite, or kick, they're usually cooperative, easily trained, keenly resourceful, and won't spit in your face like a llama might. Once on a backpacking trip with a friend we encountered a fallen tree across the trail. There was no way to go around the tree or under it due to the brush, but my friend and I were able to crawl across. This left Grover on the other side of the tree from us, with panniers full of backpacking gear. My friend asked if we should unpack Grover and help him over the tree. I said, "No, let's just leave him. He'll figure it out." On an intelligence scale, goats are about equal to a dog, so I wasn't worried about Grover although he loudly voiced his displeasure about my decision. Ignoring him, we continued down the trail. Sure enough Grover soon appeared behind us, trotting to catch up. The look on his face said, "Hey! Why did you leave me there? There's bears and stuff!" Speaking of bears and stuff, on another backpacking trip my partner asked me if I was worried about bears coming into camp at night. I told him, "No, I'm not worried. I'm going to sleep like a baby, because I have two burglar alarms: the goat and you." Caring for pack goats is pretty simple compared to other kinds of pack animals. Grover spends most of his time in a 16x48' enclosure made of 50" cattle panels, which size-wise is quite generous. Pack goats can get by with 100 square feet each, and some kind of shelter or lean-to in order to get out of the weather. Some goat packers even keep their stock in a fenced back yard (goat "raisins" make good lawn fertilizer). Add a mineral block, provide them with daily fresh water, deworm them a couple of times each year, and they're happy. As far as getting them to the trailhead is concerned, a half-ton pick-up bed with extended sides works just fine for two or three goats. Speaking of A PACK GOAT IS MORE THAN A BEAST OF BURDEN. FOR AN AGING HIKER, IT'S ASSISTANCE FOR COMPLAINING KNEES THAT JUST WON'T GIVE UP THE BACKCOUNTRY.

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