Downward facing… goat?
Story & photos by Gretchen Ammerman
Oregon Coast TODAY
What do you imagine when seeing “goat” and “yoga” strung together into one, presumably rational phrase?
As a former goat owner, I pictured doing a downward facing dog into a pile of pelletized poop while cute caprines nibbled tiny holes into my Lululemon leggings.
So it was with low expectations that I, clad in very fitted and hopefully nibble-resistant yoga attire, attended a goat yoga class at Bear Wallow Farm in Otis with my husband and our friend Jane Mulholland.
For our instructor, Sandi Hachtel, goat yoga is an opportunity to wed three of the things she loves best: teaching, helping people onto a healthier path and showing off her thriving hobby farm.
“There is something wonderful about how much the goats relax people and allow them to just laugh and have joy,” she said. “You don’t have to be a perfect yogi, you don’t even need to have ever taken a yoga class before; that’s not what this is about.”
Sandi and her husband, Tom, an almost impossibly perfect representation of a classic small-holdings farmer in worn but clean overalls and a well-loved straw hat, have embraced all things self-sufficient and are happy to share what they’ve learned in the process. Beyond the yoga classes, they teach goat milking and canning and even offer tours for kids to meet with the farm animals.
“We let people see us in our glorious imperfection,” Sandi said. “Most people come and have a hard time taking it all in. One of our main purposes in doing this is showing people that you can achieve wonderful things without them having to be Facebook perfect.”
There truly is a lot to take in: Graciela and Grendel the peahen and peacock wander gracefully around the property, seeming to sneer at the equally free range turkeys, including tom-turkey Jake. Goat monikers include Nutmeg, Cinnamon Luna and Popeye.
“You can probably tell that our grandkids help us with the names,” Sandi said.
Sandi received her yoga teacher training in Florida in 2011, and after practicing for a while, was ready to start offering classes on the property in early 2020.
“Our timing couldn’t have been worse,” she said. “We started with offering hot yoga but had to stop doing that because you certainly can’t do hot yoga in masks. So we started the goat yoga classes but things kept getting worse so we took a break from that too.”
While waiting for it to be safe to offer yoga classes again, the couple discovered “Hip Camp,” a way for travelers to stay on private properties and have an experience beyond regular camping.
“We absolutely love it,” Sandi said. “There’s so many cool people out there; we even got a young man who had come all the way from Mongolia.”
Goat yoga classes are one of the things offered to hip campers.
“We love groups because you have more fun that way,” Sandi said. “People want to do the canning, too, and some of our other programs; but that’s by far the most popular and people always end the class smiling.”
Yes, in case you were wondering, our group did do a lot of laughing. The baby goats were surprisingly continent, so the anticipated piles of poo never materialized and having a small goat walk on your back is oddly soothing. There were a few attempts at nibbling that were easily rebuffed and my clothes escaped unscathed.
Sandi began bringing Nutmeg and Cinnamon into the enclosed yoga space during classes when they were about a week old.
“The goats really are calming,” she said. “They bring something different to the experience that I love to be a part of.”
Sandi’s love of sharing the wonder of goats has even led her to bring them into schools like Oceanlake Elementary.
“We would set up a perimeter outside where kids could meet the goats,” she said. “Then they would write about the experience and draw pictures of them. Kids just love the goats, but then again, who doesn’t?”
Goat yoga classes are $15 per person for groups between three and eight participants. To book a session, go to otisyoga.com or call 503-508-1111.