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Goats in the News

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Wild goats in northern Italy are defying gravity on the face of the Cingino Dam. These animals are actually called Alpine Ibex, though one online account falsely labeled them Bighorn Sheep and magically transported the dam from the Alps to Montana.

That’s the internet for you, where any half-truth can make it around the world if it has shock value, plausibility and a certain wacky appeal. I’m inclined to call them Goat Flies and to claim they are sunning themselves on the south wall of Superman’s Fortress of Solitude. We’ll see how far that goes.

Regardless of the details, it is remarkable to see animals with such a casual approach to verticality. They appear to be licking the surface of the structure, and some accounts suppose that it is a mineral, probably salt, that attracts them. At any rate, Alpine Ibex are very much unlike Trail Babooners, who suffer from fear of heights, fear of THINKING about heights, and extreme squeamishness when it comes to watching YouTube videos about mammals climbing things.

This video will simultaneously terrorize you if you have acrophobia, and soothe you if you enjoy the sound of 1,000 melodramatic, artificial strings.

Alpine Ibex mom to Alpine Ibex youth: “Just because all the other kids go climbing on the Cingino Dam, that doesn’t mean YOU have to do it too!”

Ever accept a dare that you wish you hadn’t?

60 thoughts on “Goats in the News”

  1. I’m not big on dares, but do recall being dared at a kindergarten friend’s house to eat dog food. I said I would if she would-she did, I did, and then she informed me she really hadn’t eaten it at all, just hid it in her hand.

    I went home a little after that and was sick, sick, sick-also made myself sick over the Weekly Reader article about kids getting their tongues stuck to icicles and all the disgusting germs you could get that way (icicles were one of my favorite winter treats!), so I suspect the dog food had little to do with it.

    For the record, this sort of height bothers me not at all, you could always just slide down. We enjoy rock-climbing you can do without equipment. The thought of the s&h on a bike on the streets of St Paul makes me shudder, but climbing around the verticals of the Badlands at age 5 or so, no problem.

    For this Alpine Ibex mom, it would be-have fun climbing the dam, just don’t go up on the street with the crazy humans!

    In answer to your question, tim, I mostly tap numbers into invoices and have to mouse around the forms, so not a lot of actual keyboarding. Apparently, my baboonish clattering is an annoyance, and I don’t want to take a dare and get my internet restricted in the bargain.

    Shall await the tales of disaster with interest. I suspect a lot of dares gone wrong start with the idea-“how bad could it be?” always a red flag.

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    1. I’m in a similar situation but fortunately I have to do a lot of straight typing. It’s helpful to be able to type accurately and fast but I think it might also cause some of my posts to be a little too long. It’s not the clatter of my keyboard that alerts my coworkers, it’s the snort of laughter and the charge to the women’s room with tea running out of my nose and my eyes watering. They think I’m weird anyway, so it hasn’t mattered too much… yet…

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  2. The most ridiculous dare I ever accepted was to run a 220 yard race barefoot. We were at a sectional meet and the track was some kind of cork composite – very unlike the cinder tracks we ran on at all the other high school meets in central Illinois. I was filled with wonder at this strange, spongy surface. Another runner convinced me that going barefoot was WAY faster than wearing track shoes, and he was right. It was the fastest way possible to finish dead last. I was out of contention by the time we had gone 20 yards.

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  3. Morning all. Saw this picture of goats a couple of weeks back… am not going to even open up the YouTube with the fear of heights warnings.

    I actually ate a dead spider on a dare; I was 7 or 8 and there was some money on the line as well. It didn’t make me sick, but I did drink ALOT of water out of the garden hose afterwards!

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  4. these pictures are so cool! they’ve traveled thru our little goat circle, but i haven’t seen the film yet. thanks, Dale. long lost relatives of our Alpines. and a lot less daring, although left to their own might cook up a scheme as risky.

    i can’t remember being dared to do anything. i can think of enough crazy things to do all by myself without being challenged. when we lived in Duluth, a neighbor told me that another neighbor said of me “you never know what that woman will do next.”

    beautiful day again – hope it’s a good one for you!

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  5. Greetings! I don’t remember taking any dares, but I remember having many very authentic flying dreams as a youngster. I was convinced I could fly safely down the stairs one day — with the painfully obvious result. Honestly, it’s a wonder we all make it through our childhoods intact.

    Amazing video of those goats. I always thought hooves on stone would be slippery, but they seem sure-footed and fearless.

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    1. their hooves, Joanne, have a hard “wall” around a soft pad. the bottom of their hooves are pads with each “claw” surrounded by this hard material. they wear this outer stuff down by climbing on the rocks so they always have this pad to help grip plus the two claws to spread to help grab a surface. no hoof trimming for these goats! my poor goats have to be trimmed often because they have no rocks to play on.

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      1. Thanks for this description of the wall-holding apparatus, Barb. I was wondering what they had that made this look so easy.

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      5. That’s so cool to see how their feet look. For some reason I’ve just added this to my “Favorites”.

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      6. I’ve always wondered how four-legged climbers figure out what to do with their rear.

        Had a new work computer installed, lost all my bookmarks. The IT guy said I didn’t have to back-up anything. Pish tosh.

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  6. Good morning dare devils,

    I do remember going ahead and doing something I didn’t want to do and being told I should try it even if I didn’t want to by some friends. It wasn’t really a dare. I asked my friends to take me along on a trip to go caving in a so called “wild” cave, a cave that hasn’t been developed for use by the general public. When I saw the small size of the opening to this cave and the deep pit that had to be crossed, I didn’t want to go in. I decided I should give it a try because my friends had gone to the trouble of including me on their trip at my request. It wasn’t much fun crawling though some wet narrow places, but it was also an interesting experience and I’m glad I decided to do it.

    I wonder if any of you saw the funny segment on goats on the Cobert Report last night. It was about the thoughts of some people about goats replacing people in work on cleaning up brushy areas. The women with the goats was selling their services for cleaning up brush. She said she didn’t mind replacing people who do this work and that her goats would go into some places where people would have trouble going to clear bush. It was pointed out that goats left some poop in the places they cleaned and the people who do this work said they would not do that. The goat lady said the poop was benefical because it is fertilizer. The reporter said the chemical companies that sell bush remover chemicals and fertilizer would probably start a lobby againest the use of goats to remove brush.

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      2. his occupation is that of eating brush. it isn’t a breed – he’s an alpine (and a beautiful one – we sold him to someone who really didn’t realize what they were getting into, and long, long story but we finally found him a better home doing something goats love to do – eat stuff like buckthorn, sumac, wild rose, birch saplings, etc.)
        our goats are dairy goats – not a breed either, their breed is Alpine – it’s what they do. make milk.

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  7. There’s salt in the stones that comprise the dam? Doesn’t salt dissolve in water? Just how safe is the dam? I think living anywhere near a dam is a coin toss theses days. I’m a pretty cautious person when it comes to physical feats of daring-do. Maybe the goats are tying to get to the other side of the dam since its safer there than it is down stream.

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    2. Renee – I think of it like a crack in the glaze of a crockpot, the crack seems to get a little fuzz of salt crystals on the outside after awhile. Which is not to say that the entire dam is cracked 🙂 but the non-wet side is an unglazed semiporous surface. So mineral-containing water saturates the structure, and when it gets to the non-wet side the water dries up, leaving the minerals.

      How’s that for a crack at your question?

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  8. nothing comes to mind. i don’t get dared or respond to it much(or ever) i guess.
    the goats are great. what do you mean this has traveled in your little goat circles. you need to bring these things to the group. we all need to know as these goat sightings happen.
    enjoy a beautiful minnesota fall day. this may be the best year ever. its enough to make you think global warming may have a benefit or two to offer before the world comes to an end

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    1. tim,

      Reminds me of the Postal Service song “Sleeping In”…

      …And then last night I had that strange dream
      Where everything was exactly how it seemed
      Where concerns about the world getting warmer
      The people thought they were just being rewarded
      For treating others as they like to be treated
      For obeying stop signs and curing diseases
      For mailing letters with the address of the sender
      Now we can swim any day in November…

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  9. I was not really an acceptor of dares as a kid, but living in the neighborhood I grew up in, “derring do” was more in the imagination than actual daring. About as exciting as it got was climbing into the deep window wells at the school (under the metal grating) and then figuring out how to get back out…in was easy, out involved real work. Jumping off high stuff wasn’t really on the agenda, nor was eating unusual things. This may have been, in part, because most of my pals (and I) had older siblings, so we had seen the sort of trouble they got into and its consequences…

    I did lick a metal railing once in the winter, though – not on a dare from anyone besides myself (my big brother may have said something about why I *shouldn’t* do it, so of course I had to try). Can’t say that was a successful experiment. Unless success is measured by embarrassment.

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  10. Hail, Babooners! On this beautiful morning I could feel the difference between the seasons of summer and autumn from the earth itself. Even through my tennies the ground, good old terra firma, felt cool. Perhaps the goats were happy to climb out of the cold, shadowy depths of the valley and on to a sunwarmed height? No cold feet for them – figuratively or literally!
    I wonder who took the footage (is that a pun?) of the goats? I bet someone did it on a dare.

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    1. It’s been a fabulous week! I’ve been off all week, working on my Ukrainian eggs (doing 36 this year.. I’m about 2/3 done). And it’s been beautiful. Although I agree that you can feel the chill creeping in slowly but surely. I’ve actually had to wear socks the last three days. First socks since April!

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  11. we had great stuff to do as kids. we wer ein bloomingotn as the population was going form 13,000 when i moved there to 100, 000 in 5 years or whatever it was. there was lots of trouble to get into. climbing atround in houses being built, clmbing around in old houses redy for demolition or abandonment, lots of new housing being built where 2x4s and plywood were easy picking for building forts. we had rope swings on the river bluffs and that we’d talk the barge workers out of. (it’s amazing how generous people are to kids who are trying to create adventures. we had great snowball hideouts where we would nail the cars driving by then go into hiding. the guy who was the fun guy was the one who would come back around to catch us the second and third time and we had his number becuse by the time he figured out where we were we had moved. heading to the river bottoms to fish have shore fries and just basically screw arounfd with friends was part of the deal. i suppose there was some cajoling to get the weenies to do daring stuff. i just went for it without needing to be dared. we did have guys who like to do stupid stuff like fill a pop bottle with match heads and nails and then try to explode it and see the nails go flying all around. kinda had to watch out for daring maniacs but other than that it was just kid fun. it would land you in jail today in a heartbeat but back then it was kid fun. we hopped freight trains, snuck out at night and walked around feeling deviant, but all in all there were not alot of daring going on that i can recall, i remember one timne when we crawled down in the sewers of bloomington (probubaly 5 years old sewers) these were not the ones where the toilets went but rather the street drain runoff. we were going to take an underground adventure to get a pack of cigerettes at the pure station on the corner a mile away. someone was pretty sure they could remember how to get there so off we went at 7 oclock with a due back in time of 9 oclock . it was winter out so the underground route was warm (good news) but we all had our winter coats and boots so we were kind of klunky . the master map charter got messed up and we had to double back a couple times. in a few places the drain pipe got small and we had to take off jackets and shinney through. in other places the pipe was short and instead of walking a little hunched over you had to go for long distances with kness bent doing the duck walk and scraping your back on the concrete pipe above. well we finally got to the gas station about 1/2 hour later than we expected,(we could cut through the farmers fields and get home in time and it would feel good to get out in the fresh air and head home fast in the crisp winter air outside but… when went to push of the manhole cover and found it was frozen into place and we would have to return the same way we came. it was fun and an adventure on the way ther but a pain in the but and we knew the exact rotten stretches coming up on the way back. so we were kicking butt to make quicker time. trying to decide if you carry your coat because sweat is rolling down you face from trying to hurry , or leave it on because it fells better to scrape your back with the coat on than the concrete rubbing on you back through your sweaty shirt. we got out and home about 1/2 late and when i told my dad the story he laughed and thought that was great. my uncle casey was in town from fargo visiting and he heard the story and turned white. he had been in europe in the second world war and had been dropped behind the lines in italy and had been forced to hide in the sewers and crawl around in there. he had not had the innocent frustration my gorup had experienced and went into a conniption about how i must never do that again. we had to calm him down and i promised i wouldn’t do it again. (i didn’t see him often enough he would ever bring it up again)
    life in the 60’s was different wasn’t it. i wish i could pry my kids away form the tv and get them out to do adventures. but there mom would kill me.
    great day for painting the house. i am going to enjoy it until i get to go to my sons football game tonight. last yar was clod and wet every game. this year a pocket flask is all you need to put a little glow in your cheeks.
    enjoy the weekend. it will be a great one. sounds like it cools off on monday. inevitable but sadly true.

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      2. I’m jealous.

        Mr. MN in Sudbury tries to make up for my city childhood without elder brothers, but man — people keep telling me these stories from the 60’s and, well, they’re not happening again are they.

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    2. It’s so fun to hear your stories about the freedom of your childhood, tim. While my dad was in summer school (3 summers) we kids had the run of the football stadium with its press “box”, 2 ticket booths, and the baseball dugouts, as this trailer “park” was the parking lot between the college’s football and baseball fields (they got more takers than they’d expected, and this was the overflow trailer camp). The grandstand was our castle, we sold rocks and jewelry in the ticket booths, climbed like ants all over the dugouts and used them for forts…

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  12. My brother dared me to put my tongue on the iron rail outside the church in January. I had to be rescued by my dad with a cup of warm water. I had a sore tongue for awhile after that. Both my brother and I got into trouble over it.

    I grew up on Cannon Lake west of Faribault and was a great swimmer back in the day. My friend dared me to swim across Cannon Lake when we were about 13. She was long, lean and tall. I was short and a little stumpy. I accepted her dare. Then she dared me to race her. I again accepted her dare. We started out in slightly choppy water but progressed rapidly into the middle of the lake. She was ahead of me most of the way. Suddenly I KICKED something hard and cold beneath me in the water. I had seen the size of the carp in the lake and I knew just exactly what I had kicked. I swam backwards FAST, my heart racing. By this time Cheryl was at least a quarter of a mile ahead of me. I hollered, “I KICKED A CARP!” but she couldn’t hear me because of the choppy water. Well, of course she beat me to the opposite shore. I got there about 5 minutes behind her. She was all rested up by the time I climbed out of the lake and sat down, panting, on the shore. My distance was longer than hers by whatever length I’d back-paddled… Then she said, “Dare you to beat me back!” and jumped back in.

    Oh well. That was extent of my competitive career.

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    1. She jumped back in, but did you also race her back? It sounds so excruciatingly hard — how many miles are we talking about?

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      1. We swam across the narrow section, roughly WNW to ESE. It was slightly under a mile one way, two miles total. It was really nothing for us to swim like that. We often spent the entire day swimming when we were young. I was already a senior lifeguard by the time we did that. We had Red Cross swimming lessons for the entire neighborhood at our house every summer. I was one of the older kids. They tested us out if we could pass the tests and I passed them all. I was able to do underwater rescues of grown men when I was in my early teens and this earned me a senior lifeguard. I was then the lifeguard for the Senior High pool before the girls had a swim team. Girls weren’t allowed on the boys swim team, of course.

        Yes, Cheryl dared me to race her and jumped back in. She headed back but I caught my breath and jumped in when I was ready. I didn’t race her. By then I knew I was smoked. Plus, I was wary of hitting another carp.

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  13. At first I was gonna say I have never done anything on a dumb dare, but a little reflection reminds me that I have done a lot of Dumb Stuff that I probably wouldn’t have done without the presence of other guys around to egg me on. And the stunt I think best fits the definition of the goats on the wall licking the salt is the game I invented called “I Shot an Arrow Into the Air, It Fell to Earth I Know Not Where.”

    When I was in my early teens, I had a fiberglass reflex bow (as in bow and arrow) that had a 40-pound pull. That was a big enough, strong enough, bow to hunt deer in the state of Iowa, so we aren’t talking about a little pretend bow that might have been sold on a card in a department store. Nosireee. This was a BOW. To put the string on it, I had to put it on the stairs and stand on the handle to bend it and then I could string it. This was a powerful bow that no idiot kid like me should have been allowed to own.

    The game I invented was played on a vacant lot, and you are an old fart if you know what that was. During the rapid housing boom after WWII a few properties would be plotted but not developed as fast as their neighboring properties, and of course kids played in the open ones as if they were parks. My buddies Mike and Nick had bows like mine. I invented a game in which one of us would stand in the middle of the vacant lot and shoot an arrow into the sky perfectly vertical and then stand there with eyes closed until the arrow tipped over in its flight and then came screaming down to bury itself in the ground right next to the shooter ffffffffWHAP! And the whole point of the game was to shoot so perfectly straight that the arrow would almost touch you when it slammed down into the ground next to you. You were the winner if the arrow almost killed you but didn’t quite.

    We gave that game up the day I shot the car. I launched an arrow one afternoon that went high, high, high in the sky and then came down as if it had been shot back down by one of God’s angels. Only I didn’t aim perfectly straight up like I was trying to do, so the arrow came down on Duff Avenue, a busy street. There I was, squinching my eyes and waiting to see if I would die when the arrow came down, and there came a strange metallic WHONK sound. We looked and saw that an antique car–like a Model T–was driving down Duff headed for downtown. And it had my arrow sticking straight down through its roof. We took off running and were smart enough to never play that game in that vacant lot again. I’ve always wondered what the owner of that car thought when he found my arrow sticking straight down in his roof like it had been shot by some wiseass in the clouds. I can tell this story now because I’m confident that the Statute of Limitations has run out on all that stuff I did as a kid.

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    2. great story. mummblypeg with a bow and arrow. we loved those vacant lots. bike riding tracks and obsticle courses. army man sites, club houses built on the hidden corners, great times.

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  15. Morning!–

    I haven’t had a chance to read all the comments yet… and I don’t recall any dares as a kid…

    I think my job here was a ‘Dare’ some days- this weekend included. It’s Homecoming weekend and my job is ‘Smoke and strobe lights’ (In the school colors) as the football players run onto the field… and I’ve got to get my head in the right place so I just ‘roll with it’ ya know?
    Starting with a trip up to Maple Grove to pick up the smoke.

    Have a good weekend–

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    2. do you end up hoping for a quiet night so the smoke lingers or one with a little wind to get in whipping around? enjoy homecoming.
      post a view of your smoke with the team running through it if you can. sounds cool.

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  16. I don’t remember any dares, yet, but Husband was dared when in 8th grade to kiss a 5th grade girl who “liked” him on the lips . The group, maybe 6 of them went to the one house where the mom was at work (OK, this was the 50s), and went into a bedroom and kissed on the lips. He didn’t think it was any big deal, but the other kids apparently did, though he didn’t mention anything else he was awarded — I guess the kiss was enough!

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  17. I don’t remember any dares :o/ In “Truth or Dare” I always went with truth. Boring childhood!

    My first instinct on viewing the dam goats picture was to look at it sideways to see if I was being had. Took the video to convince me… and then I had the motion sickness.

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  18. Catching up on previous posts – on the subject of pneumatic tube systems, just wanted to say: Sending tissue samples and body fluids to the hospital lab through hospital pneumatic tube systems is pretty much banned these days.

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    2. I wasn’t around to see them, but if human adaptation to new technology is anything to go by, there must have been some spectacular messes back in the day!

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  19. I was wondering if anyone saw the goats on “The Colbert Report” last night. As I was watching them I was thinking of all you Baboon[er]s. You should watch it online (because I’m sure you were all sound asleep by then!).

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