Ibex spend their life climbing up mountains to graze; then, at a certain time of day, they climb down again. They get different foods this way. They go uphill because the grass is better there in the summer, while in the winter it is better below. Here, I think, they are licking the stone for its minerals and salts. At a lower level there’s plenty of grass, but they do need salts and minerals, and this must be a favourite place for them.
The ibex have soft, split hooves that can grip like a pincer. Big and supple with shortish, powerful legs, they are very sure-footed and have good eyesight. In the north of Italy or the Alps, there are predators – their calves, for instance, are eaten by eagles – so they have to be on the lookout all the time. ~ the guardian
Hoewel in de eerste plaats grazers, zijn geiten opportunistische eters die vrijwel elk plantaardig materiaal eten, zoals gras, bladeren, twijgen, knoppen, vruchten en wortelen. Daardoor kunnen verwilderde geiten grote schade toebrengen aan inheemse flora en fauna van eilanden, zoals bijvoorbeeld op de Galapagoseilanden. Ook weten ze zich goed aan te passen aan giftige planten. Na drie keer van een bepaalde giftige plant te hebben gegeten, weet een geit in welke hoeveelheden hij van deze plant zou kunnen eten zonder ziek te worden. ~ wiki
WHEN PEOPLE THINK of amazing climbs, they think of scaling Half Dome in Yosemite or those commercials for pitons that show someone dangling by two fingers from a ledge. Those climbers are impressive, and the technical mastery and skill necessary to scale sheer rock faces is something that comes only after years of practice.
Unless you’re a goat. Goats are born with more technical skill than humans have in one pinky finger, and they continue to engage in increasingly bizarre and perilous feats of climbing that would put even the most weathered Everest veteran to shame.
A mountain goat perches inside the Grand Canyon of the Stikine River in northern British Columbia. These goats, which live only in the canyon, use almost invisible paths along the walls to avoid predators.
How do goats climb and descend cliffs?
8 AnswersStefan Pociask, Tracking Instructor. Field researcher. Wildlife RehabilitationUpdated Jul 3 2017 · Featured on HuffPost and Forbes · Author has 902 answers and 12.7m answer viewsOriginally Answered: How do goats descend cliffs?
All available internet information regarding this question seems to be vague and unsatisfactory. Data mentions hooves and legs in a broad sense, but with few specifics. Time to answer this mystery. And a medieval knight will help us understand.
Certain animals are known for their rock-climbing skills. Ibex, Big Horn Sheep, Mountain Goats, etc. But one of these reigns supreme. The Mountain Goat is the undisputed master of terrifying heights and seemingly impossible-to-scale cliff faces. They are often seen on the pinnacles of mountain tops that will have a Mountain Sheep saying “Dude… how the hell did you get up there?! And how are you getting down?!”
So what is it that differentiates a Mountain Goat from its mountain-climbing buddies, and gives it that bit of an edge? It is, indeed, mostly the hooves. All of these fearless adrenaline junkies do have specialized hooves, that give them incredible grip and traction on rocky, inclined terrain. To explain, I will use an analogy of a medieval knight’s armor; in particular, his armored shoes. These are called sabatons, and they cover a knight’s foot: [1]
In design, if not in function, these animals share a trait with a medieval knight’s foot armor. These sabatons have no bottoms to them. They are strapped in place over the top of the knight’s shoes. What results is a hard covering on top, a soft bottom, and surrounding the soft sole, a hard edge which touches the ground. Here you can see how I’ve made this comparison. This is the basic design of the hooves of these animals: [2]
This is what allows them to be rock climbers. If we consider the hoof of a horse, we know that horses walk only on the hard edge of their hoof. A horseshoe gets its shape from the part of the hoof that touches the ground. Let’s also consider the foot of a Mountain Lion. It has no hard edge. It has soft pads that touch the ground. Our mountain climbing animals combine the best of both worlds; in that they have both a hard edge and soft pads that touch the ground.
Next… lets again consider the hoof of a horse. A horse has a single toe surrounded by a hard edge. A Mountain Lion has multiple toes with no edge. Once again, our mountain climbers combine the best of both worlds, and we have multiple toes, each surrounded by a hard edge.
The two factors I’ve mentioned above are what give these animals incredible traction and grip. I’ll explain how this works. Let’s take a look at the hoof of a Big Horned Sheep: [3]
If you look closely, you can see how it compares to the generic drawing above. The soft sole is the crinkly bit in the center. The outline of the hard edge can be seen surrounding the central pad. When these animals are walking across steep rocky terrain, the irregularities in the rock push up into the softer sole. This sole indents and conforms to the shape of the bump in the rock. That bump is now entrapped by the hard edge that surrounds it. It’s nearly impossible for the hoof to slide. The hoof is locked in place. We have the textured, indented sole providing traction, and the cupping action of the hard edge, around. In addition… we have two independent toes that can be spread apart as needed for placement, and also squeezed together, further enhancing the grip of that particular foot. Once in place, this foot is practically glued to the rock surface. It doesn’t matter how small the irregularity in the rock is. This system takes advantage of any edge.
When we add in the fact that these animals don’t just place their feet willy-nilly, in any spot… but rather, choose carefully and, if need be, will paw away at the surface to remove any loose gravel, before committing to that foothold… we have an incredible, functional design! Ain’t nature great?! It’s quite clear, how this evolved in these animals, through natural selection. Those that didn’t get a perfect grip, ended up at the bottom of the cliff; having gotten there “the hard way”. Only the best adapted, survived; making each generation slightly more sure-footed.
This remarkable hoof enabled these animals to stay out of range of their predators, by traveling across terrain that no predator could possibly traverse.
The question being asked here, relates, specifically, to how they descend cliffs. The answer to that is this specialized hoof design. The question of how they ascend cliffs (go up) would require additional explanations of the special design of their forelegs, shoulder muscles and other physiological features. But we’ll just stick with descent right now, as was asked.
So, as I mentioned… it is the hoof design, combined with their technique of pawing away loose substrate prior to committing foot placement. Also, if these animals did not have the ability to “look ahead” while descending, many more would be taking the gravity-express, down to the bottom; again… the hard way. They know they will occasionally stand on something that gives-way, so they already have a sense of the next few foot locations, in case they have to make a quick jump to the next one. When their speed increases, due to necessity, they tend to make a slightly lateral jump if possible, as opposed to straight down. This decreases the vertical stress on the rock, somewhat. If they are jumping sideways to any degree, this sends the energy of their movement and weight in a direction other than straight down. It dissipates sideways.
When descending, they tend to maintain 3 points of contact at all times, as opposed to when ascending, in which case they have been known to pull their entire body up with a single leg. Descending is more dangerous, as they are adding the energy of momentum to their weight. Therefore, extra caution is required. And like any rock climber, they are expert at keeping their center of gravity as close to the rock face, as possible.
So… that explains the remarkable abilities of the major rock climbing ungulates. But we are still stuck with the question of why the Mountain Goat is the king, among all others. The answer, again, is their hoof. Here is the hoof of a Mountain Goat: [4]
If you compare it to the Big Horn Sheep hoof, above, you can see the difference. These hooves have more fleshy, soft pad exposed. The hard edge more closely resembles the metal sabaton of our medieval knight’s armor. It doesn’t curl under, and there is a more definitive “edge”. Also, the fleshy pad extends further out; it’s more “puffed” out, and dimensionally larger. When a foot is placed down, the pad makes first contact, over a larger area. Through the sense of touch, this gives the Mountain Goat more information as to what he is about to step on, and more opportunity to adjust, as needed. There is a bit more sensory feedback available to the Mountain Goat, and more surface area available, in which to position the irregularities of the rock surface.
Lastly, let’s compare the overall appearance of the Mountain Goat, Mountain Sheep and Ibex, for our final clues: [5] [6] [7]
Let’s start with the most obvious… horns. What do you imagine happens to the center of gravity, with horns the size of the Big Horn Sheep, or the Ibex? Yes, although mighty impressive, it wreaks havoc on the balance of these animals, relatively speaking, when compared to the Mountain Sheep, at the top. It’s much more difficult to keep most of the weight close to the rock face of the cliff: [8]
Those absurdly steep cliffs that the goat can climb and descend, prove to be more of a challenge to the other two, partially due to that unwieldy extra weight being carried around at the forward-most part of their body. And, last but not least… insane shoulder muscles. The Mountain Goat is the Brock Lesnar of the ungulate world. Can anyone say “no-neck-beast”? : [9]
Yep, the Mountain Goat just has more muscle, when it counts, to lift himself up crazy cliffs and hold himself in place, or do chimney climbs in places where not even a Big Horned Sheep or Ibex can follow: [10a] [10b]
Now, THAT’S awesome! Those guys are licking the rocks for salts and other minerals. I guess they wanted to lick where no tongue has gone before. (Cant’t blame ‘em!) Also… I can’t argue with ‘em. Those rocks DO look delicious! Am I right?!
The goat on the left was observed to finally finish his licking, after having rotated a full 180 degrees to get in this position, and then walk back down the way he came. The one on the right remained in that position for over an hour, licking various rocks, and was still there when the observer eventually left.
“I’m on top of the world!! Echo… echo… echo!!”
And now you know about Mountain Goats, and their amazing climbing “feets”.