We were on top of one of our local and, perhaps, less popular, mountaintops. A trek up a wooded ridge through somewhat open, sub-alpine forest brought us to steep, open meadows bedecked with many species of mountain flowers. Many of these would have bloomed earlier if it were a usual season. Passing through a grassy landscape, interrupted with protruding rocks and stunted trees, we left behind the flowery slopes and reached a panoramic view of rocky mountains divided by Kootenay Lake seen far below.
So it was, from this peak, that with extra time “in our pockets”, we decided to hike easterly along a ridge leading towards a massive mountain that seemed to have ridges and shoulders reaching in every direction.
The ridge we were following was by no means straight or level like it might appear from a distance. This gave lots of instances where, at times, hikers were out of sight of each other, hidden by rocky humps. At every point, one saw the surroundings from a different perspective. It was an environment that provided lots of hiding places.
It was in this kind of terrain that one of our party, when gazing from the edge of the north side of the ridge, spotted an unusual creamy white hump on a patch of snow a short distance below. And that’s not all. There seemed to be a similar, smaller hump attached to the larger one. The mystery humps turned out to be a nanny mountain goat and her kid snuggled together, dozing in the fresh mountain air. So much for the nap. The rest of the hikers, then out of sight, were signalled to approach quietly and most got a good look and photos of this rare pair before they ambled off around a rocky bend.
Goats are rare according to most books on the topic. They are rarely seen. When seen, it is usually at a distance, and if seen nearby, for them it seems to be a “we’re out-of-here” response. However, when seen, like on this morning, it’s exciting to see them enjoying the safety and serenity of the mountain crags. Mountain goats are equipped to do that. I’m not. Once I “pitched” my plastic sheet near where a goat was bedded down for the evening. Sometime in the night, I woke to lightening snapping off the surrounding boulders, which seemingly could be dislodged from their moorings by the thunder. I am sure, that, to the goat, this was part of the usual menu.
It’s not every time a goat or some large animal makes an appearance to those humans venturing out there. In fact, a single goat may be seen by a single hiker in one single season over several years. I might see one mule deer buck in the alpine every two or three years. What's the point of getting out there if we don't see anything? I used to tell my kids a person needs to get out often in order to rarely see something spectacular or unusual. Getting out there, either near or far, on a regular basis, will clue us in, if we are not already clued in, to the fact that the rarely seen is spectacular even if it is only a small event, process, animal, plant or other entity of the mountain community.
Ed McMackin is a biologist by profession but a naturalist and hiker by nature. He can be reached at 250-866-5747.