Phil and Cuzco take in the view.

Nanno thinks she’s a goat.

Cuzco wisely chooses to remain on level ground. At his age, he’s seen it all anyway.

“I told you! I said you’d regret climbing up there, Nan!”
Can anyone find Petunia?

They called me “NannoGoat” in my younger days, long before I ever owned a goat or had even met one at a petting zoo. My moniker lent itself to such nicknames, but maybe there was something more to it?

Willis Creek slot canyons has to be our favorite hike on our Escalante trip. It’s extremely easy and only a couple miles long, but that leaves plenty of time for enjoying and photographing the scenery

Cuzco at the entrance to the slot canyons.

Can you get up there, Nubbin?

Of course I can–DUH!!

Petunia says, “I can climb higher than Nubbin!”

Don’t jump, babies!

Ship ahoy!

To be continued…

We stopped for a long time in this lush place.

Here we found petroglyphs, but Cuzco was more interested in posing for the camera than appreciating the history.

Nubbin and Petunia did their best to deface the canyon wall, but were too short.

Nubbin realized that the ancient petroglyph was of her ancestors! Doesn’t it look like the outline of a Nupine goat’s face?

Petunia and I share a cookie.      

Due to mechanical problems with our truck, we spent the next couple of days hiking close to the town of Escalante. We went to Petrified Forest State Park, hiked part of the Escalante Trail, and wandered around Bailey’s Wash. Petrified Forest was a bit hectic because of all the people. It’s a very small park and it was crowded with folks who couldn’t get into Bryce Canyon and other National Parks in the area due to the government shutdown. We had to keep the goats on leashes there.

Nubbin and Petunia shared a snack along the trail. After that, I could no longer tell Phil what the numbered posts were about.

After Petrified Forest, Phil and Petunia took a nap.

Phil and I loved this sign near the cemetery. If the customers aren’t allowed to park overnight, does this mean the dead really do walk around after dark?

I loved these tree roots.

We called this the “goat grotto”.
 

I had a very good time photographing Cuzco in Spooky Canyon. We shocked a whole troop of foreigners, though. We got to a boulder where Cuzco couldn’t go any further (and we sure weren’t going to hoist him up!), but the canyon was too narrow to turn around and there were a bunch of people behind us. So we skooched into a nook and hung out while the other tourists squeezed past us. Cuzco was very good about it all. He made himself as small as possible against the wall (not easy for such a big goat to do) and stood very patiently while everyone wiggled past.

The bigger problem was when people tried to pass Nubbin and Petunia. The babies were very excited and kept moving. I told people to just push them aside with their feet, but I don’t think they understood me, and one lady wouldn’t go because Nubbin was in her way. I finally had to go ahead and give Nubbin a little shove with my foot, and that’s when the lady finally understood that it was ok to push past the baby goat. I guess she thought I would be mad or something. After they passed, I had to back Cuzco up about 20 feet before we found a place where he could safely turn around. He didn’t seem to mind at all though. I was pleased to discover that he walks backwards about as easily as he walks forwards, even around blind corners. Cuzco may be an ornery old cuss sometimes, but when push comes to shove, he’s about as solid and dependable a hiking buddy as I could ask for.

What’s up there, Nubbin?

The mud was awesome. It was all cracked and rolled, and it made the most delicious crunching noises under my feet. I loved stomping on it! The best bit was when I found these super-cool wrist gauntlets!! Meet Nanno: Mud Warrior!!

We arrived in Escalante and spent our second day at Spooky, Peek-a-Boo, and Dry Fork canyons. Cuzco carried our lunch and water. He seems to be in his element when I put his pack on him. He stands perfectly still while I strap it on, then struts ahead when we’re ready to go. Usually he’s content to bring up the rear, but he somehow seems very proud and eager when he’s wearing that pack. It’s like he knows he’s important and even essential. I’m sad that he’s getting too old to hike like he used to. We had to take it easy in these canyons because he can’t really leap up boulders any more. We turned back in a few places because Cuzco couldn’t make it. There was also a place where Phil couldn’t make it, and another spot where I couldn’t make it, but we still saw quite a lot of the canyons, and everyone had a good time.

Goatprints in the sand…

Eventually the slots got so narrow I had to remove Cuzco’s pack. Careful as he is, he could not squeeze through without scraping the panniers on the walls.

Phil and I went back to Escalante, UT again in early October, and once again we brought goats. This time we brought Cuzco and the two babies. We figured it was a good way to wean babies and give mamas a chance to dry up. We started off in Goblin Valley again.
 

The fight for the water hole! Nubbin and Petunia were both certain that the mud puddle was yummier where the other one was drinking, and the minute one would go to a fresh spot, the other would join her and try to push her away. Cuzco remained above it all.

He knew that this poisonous-looking water required nothing less than the magical touch of a unicorn’s horn. Would a unigoat work just as well?

Nubbin tried to fly. I told her to flap her ears a bit harder.

Cuzco, on the other hand, finds it easier these days to work with gravity instead of against it.

Petunia found an armchair.

Phil decided it was big enough for two.

Nubbin eventually lost her head completely.

And we met Jar-Jar Binks.

The End.

P.S. We did NOT push any boulders over.

We had so much fun at the State Fair that we decided to haul our goats up north for the CDGA Harvest Show the following weekend. After all the work of shaving and primping and packing, going to a second show was the obvious choice. We won no awards this time, but we still had fun and our goats held their own. However, there wasn’t even a costume class! We’re going to have to do something about that for next year. Or perhaps add a race or a talent show or some such “fun” activity to make showing more worthwhile. What’s the use of having a goat show if you leave out all the classes that are actually important??

Cuzco heard we were leaving and didn’t want to spend the weekend at home by himself, so he arranged a medical crisis at the last minute so we would have to take him with us. He turned up with a painful, swollen cheek the morning we left. I loaded him up with the other goats so I could have him checked out at the vet on the way to Longmont. Turns out it was no big deal… he just got a sticker or bashed his jaw on something (probably Lilly’s head) and the vet prescribed penicillin. But my problem was whether the CDGA people would let me keep Cuzco at the fairgrounds. It was an ADGA sponsored show, and there are very clear rules about male goats and horns. However, the powers that be were very understanding and let me have a pen for Cuzco. My biggest fear was that the other competitors would think I was bringing in a goat with CL, but luckily the swelling went down drastically during the night, and between the halter and the hair no one could see the bump on his jaw.

My next concern was how to keep him from menacing people. He’s been moody lately, and a toothache wasn’t going to help. The pen was so small he would not be able to avoid unwelcome intrusions into his personal space. The goat people would probably be ok… they usually know better than to grab a goat by the horn and they are familiar with unfriendly goat body language. But there was a horse show and a gun show going on at the same fairgrounds, and I wasn’t sure what kinds of people would be coming over and thrusting their hands into Cuzco’s face. Being a very large, handsome, and distinctive-looking goat, he tends to attract more than his fair share of attention, and men, for some reason, can’t seem to resist grabbing that horn and giving it a good shake. They wouldn’t dream of pulling a dog’s ears or tail, but they think nothing of yanking on a goat’s horn. I like to ask them how they would feel if they had a gun on their hip and some stranger walked up and snatched it out of the holster. This puts horn-grabbing in a whole new light! But I couldn’t be there all day to ward off ignorant behavior. So I posted some signs:
“ADMIRE ME from a distance but please don’t touch! I’M CRANKY”

For the most part they seemed to work. Every now and then I saw people reaching over anyway, but I figured if they were dumb enough to ignore a fair warning they deserved what they got. Once or twice I heard the quiet scrape of a threatening horn on the rails, but most people were respectful, and Cuzco was actually pretty chill. I think he liked having his own space where the girls couldn’t share his hay or touch his water. But he was starting to get bored by the end of the second day and decided he needed more action. So he tore down one of signs in hope of luring in unsuspecting victims. I put it back up, but he tore it down about three more times before I finally ran out of tape and cable ties and had to give up. Luckily by then it was time to go home.

The girls had a good time and actually drank water at this show. They hardly drank anything at State Fair and Nibbles barely got an udder while Lilly looked like “concentration camp goat.” It was kind of embarrassing. Well this time I introduced them to Gatorade powder in the water and it really worked the trick! The only drawback was that they all had orange chins, and Lilly’s beautiful white beard looked like it had gotten rusty. But I’ll take funny-colored goats over dehydrated ones any day.

Speaking of funny-colored goats, I saw the goofiest thing in the silent auction–a can of black spray-on livestock paint for touching up coat color before a show! Phil and I really like colorful goats, but nicely-built ones can be hard to find and even harder to get ahold of. So we thought if all else fails we could just buy some Saanens and paint them up with Weaver’s livestock paint! Yay for instant party coats!

The best (and most important) class at the State Fair was, of course, the costume competition. When Phil went to sign up, they asked him what division… “Junior or senior?”
“Senior,” he replied.
“You mean 14-18?” they asked.
“No, 34,” Phil said.
They laughed and wrote down a new division with the number “34” at the top. Phil and I were the only competitors in our age group.

I went as Victourista Cruz, world traveler. Nubbin came as my trusty and oh-so-stylish luggage. It’s a good suitcase and usually follows me faithfully, but sometimes airline security declares it to be “out of control baggage.”

Phil was Eugene the nerd and Petunia was his robot, the P-9000.

Our favorite costume at the show was this lovely harem beauty with her camel. I especially love the fez!

We came home with lots of awards, including “Premier Exhibitor” for Recorded Grades. Another “self-esteem” ribbon, methinks!

The best prize was this one I got for winning the “34” division of the costume class. It’s a redneck wineglass with a goat on it and filled with candies! Phil vows to soon fill it with marbles once the candies are gone (which won’t take long, I’m sure).