In tribute to the hilariously silly vehicles that even my husband has a hard time keeping a straight face with that I have hauled goats in, enjoy the descriptions below to learn more about the Goat Mobiles past and present.
The Clown Car
Inherited from a family member, this yellow manual transmission Ford Focus hatchback with the custom racing stripe had things done to it for which it was never designed, and for which its designers never ever intended its owners to attempt. Starting with allowing goats to ride for extended periods on a tarp and some shavings in the back cargo space, the fate of this car so often referred to by my coworkers and family as “the clown car” or the “yellow banana” was a life of adventure. From skiing down roads using nothing but the manual transmission and traction control because I was too poor to buy snow tires, to crossing streams that covered the tail pipe for short periods and climbing two track gravel roads to nowhere through the forest this little machine proved you don’t need ground clearance, wrecker acceptable bumpers, or even a trailer hitch, (though a custom one was installed later), to be a goat mobile. When her transmission finally blew going over the mountains in Pennsylvania pulling a trailer full of goats, she went on to a new owner and new adventures.
The Big White Box
So I finally got a pickup after years of grossing out my family by allowing the goats to ride in the car with me. However, due to funding issues it does not have four wheel drive, so I’m still skiing around during the winter but hey, now without traction control and front wheel drive! Yay! Good thing I have that awful box in the back to weight down my tires. Yeah, the box. The truck itself isn’t that embarrassing. It’s the big, ugly, and really obvious white goat box in the back that I knocked together from scrap wood and a lot of nails and screws. With a manual transmission and that ugly box in the back I can park pretty much anywhere and be rest assured this thing is never going to be stolen by anyone, even in a zombie apocalypse. After all, how many young hoods these days can even drive a stick? The goats seem to like the box, but they prefer riding in the truck cab, and will happily climb in and settle down if the door is left open and a suitable country station left on.
Eventually I got a camper shell…after my family said they saw the box lift up out of the truck at 70 miles an hour and there were concerns it might someday take the goats with it.
An honorable mention goes out to the Subaru Forester that belonged to my long suffering husband. With four wheel drive, ground clearance, and a roof rack it was probably more suited to being a goat mobile than any of the other vehicles we’ve ever owned. However, my husband (like many wives have found out) is not really into my insane hobbies and is not okay with goat smell in his upholstery. He has, surprisingly, occasionally allowed goats to ride in his beloved vehicle in emergencies. Since this vehicle also featured in some of the dumbest moments of our lives together, (for instance, the time we almost wrecked in the middle of nowhere in the upper peninsula in Michigan because he wouldn’t let go of his poptart to grab the steering wheel), it deserves a mention. Sadly it’s no longer with us. He went out one morning to crank it up and the entire engine seized – I can only assume it heard my new plans for making it carry goats and committed suicide.