Full disclosure: I did not shoot this picture. I saw this goat, on this mountain; but since I forgot to bring in my pictures of the goat or anything else from our latest adventure, I’m using the shot taken by my friend Rich on top of Scotchman Peak last Saturday.

I like how these goats always seem to be smiling. This one is losing his winter coat, and he likes it. It was a beautiful day to be hopping around on the rocks, so that is what we were all doing. *

The human rock-hoppers (Rich, my daughter Emma, and myself) began our climb at 6:30 am, and arrived on top at 9:30. The trail gains 3,730 vertical feet in four miles, and the trail-builders seem not to believe in switchbacks. Emma, 13, did very well, both because she’s young and because Dad was carrying the backpack containing heavy camera, heavier binoculars, and eight bottles of water. Phew! I was pretty tired on top, but going down is worse. Harder on the knees.

But we made it, and on the way down passed 16 other climbers who chose to tackle the mountain when the day was getting hot. Instead of climbing a mountain in the heat of the day, I came home and blocked, split, and stacked half a cord of wood in the heat of the day. I didn’t make it a full cord because Jess said I should take it easy. Wonder why she said that.

*(Where do these goats go in the winter? Other ungulates move to lower elevations when the snow gets deep, but you never see mountain goats lower down. They live on the crags, where the wind and snow would be fiercest, and they don’t hibernate. Any ideas?)