Mission accomplished. We spotted the mountain goat who was lounging about 100 yards off the trail on a rocky ledge.

My mission was to find the mountain goat.

I had seen his picture in The Bulletin several weeks ago. He had wandered into Dry River Canyon, near the Badlands Wilderness, apparently looking for new habitat or a new herd.

He was cute, for sure, with ink-black eyes, a long nose and a shaggy coat. But looks were not my motivation.

I have seen my fair share of wildlife. I’ve stumbled on a herd of elk, seen a baby bear climb a tree and have even watched a bald eagle teach her young to fish. And, I used to live near a canyon in Utah that, others told me, was rampant with mountain goats. Still, I had never seen one.

No one knew how long this particular fellow would stick around. Several friends had told me they found him on hikes in the canyon. Still, that was weeks ago.

My task seemed difficult. But, I told myself, it was not impossible.

My team was uneven. My mother, no stranger to wildlife herself, was a pro. My 3-month-old baby, who is just developing depth perception and distinguishing colors, was going to be less help.

We set off last weekend, under a partly cloudy but clear sky. Having failed to find binoculars and not being able to think of anything else that would help us, we took little equipment. We would rely solely on our wits.

The drive to Dry River Canyon is pleasant. Located about a dozen miles east of Bend, the canyon housed a tributary to the Deschutes River during the most recent ice age. Today, the trail up the canyon is a scenic desert hike amid gnarled juniper and craggy rock walls.

It is also a popular hike. As we pulled into the parking lot, there were about a dozen other cars. It appeared we were not the only ones looking for the mountain goat.

We started our trek with the typical pleasant chatter about weather, the trail and the scenery. The sandy trail is wide enough in the beginning for two people to walk side by side.

Soon, it narrows and becomes rocky as it winds into a narrower part of the canyon. Even if we don’t see the mountain goat, I thought, we would at least get a pretty hike. The sun was filtering into the canyon so that the leaves of some trees sparkled against the landscape.

Dogs are allowed in the canyon and soon a pack came bounding up to us. Two labs and a Great Dane passed. I hoped that mountain goats were not scared of dogs, but feared the worst. After all, the Great Dane was nearly horse-sized. I worried the dogs had thwarted our mission.

However, a larger obstacle presented itself. The baby was crying. Loud.

I panicked. He was in his baby carrier, which he typically likes. He had just eaten. He may have been tired but he has fallen asleep on other walks.

I tried to explain to him the importance of seeing a mountain goat. He didn’t buy it. We continued walking to see if he would calm down. That didn’t work either.

We had stopped to turn back when two women came down the trail. “He’s an unhappy customer,” my mom said to make light of the situation.

“Maybe he’ll be happier when he sees the mountain goat,” one of the women replied.

What!? This was a game-changer. The mountain goat was still here. Someone had just seen him. We had to press on.

The women told us he was just a little farther, up ahead on the left. We kept walking.

Then, all of a sudden, there he was. A little white ball of fluff perched on a ridge above the trail. He was about 100 yards off the trail, lying high on some rocks. He was far away, but there was no mistaking it was the mountain goat.

We walked slowly, trying to get the best view. His eyes seemed to follow us.

His fur stood out starkly against the brown of the rocks. He looked to be relaxing, unconcerned with the excitement below. I took picture after picture, trying to get the best view.

My mom thought he looked like a unicorn. I thought he looked like the fulfillment of a mission.

Dry River Canyon

Getting there: From Bend, drive 17 miles east on U.S. Highway 20. At the bottom of a long hill, turn left near milepost 17. Immediately turn right into a gravel pit. Travel through the gravel pit to a dirt road. Follow the dirt road about a mile to the trailhead.

Cost: Free

Difficulty: Easy. Trail is somewhat rocky, but flat and well-marked.

Contact: 541-416-6700, Bureau of Land Management, Prineville

Note: The canyon closes from Feb. 1 through Aug. 31 for falcon nesting season.