Farewell to the Goat

Black River shop sells its last eclectic giggle

The massive willow likely provided shade to the farmers hauling milk to the original Black River Cheese Factory. Founded in 1870, the factory gave the struggling farmers carving out tillable land in South Marysburgh a ready market for their milk. In 1901, the cheese factory moved across the road.

Things change. Time passes. Earlier this year, the now-giant willow began to buckle.

Tim and Lesley Snyder are self-described change addicts. Tim had a burgeoning career in animation in the city. Toronto features a vibrant and busy animation sector—producing television, film and commercials for markets around the world. Tim is the rare animator who possesses both exemplary technical ability and a keen understanding of the art of storytelling—though typically through a slightly warped lens.

Just as years of paying dues had begun to give him the creative freedom and compensation his talent commanded, Tim and Lesley decided to leave it all behind.

A few years earlier, Lesley and Tim were expecting their second child. Weeks before the baby was due, there was a complication. Surgeons had to go and get him out immediately. Quinn arrived safely, but recovery for both mom and child would take much longer than had been anticipated.

Five days later, Tim had to fly to Lake Annecy in France. The meeting had been set up weeks earlier and couldn’t be postponed. Pulled between family and work—Tim chose work.

“I was in the most amazingly beautiful places on Earth, and Lesley was passing through hell,” Tim recounted. “It was the worst experience of my life.”

They would get past this crisis, but Tim and Lesley were done with climbing the career ladder. When Quinn was six, they made the move to Prince Edward County with their young family, not at all sure what they would do—or how they would live.

Tim and Lesley had both trained and worked as illustrators. They had even occasionally worked together on children’s books and other projects. Lesley also had an affinity with numbers and did some bookkeeping work.

Tim hoped to secure graphic design and illustration assignments. But nothing was sure or nailed down when they moved into their home on the Black River.

Lesley did some bookkeeping. She also started an after-school art club for the local school. Tim worked on a barn renovation. He taught some art classes through the school and became immersed in the lively arts community in the County.

Meanwhile, it was clear that Black River was a popular spot—a destination, particularly on summer weekends. For many, it is a Sunday ritual to aimlessly ply County roads with a stop at Black River for cheese for ice cream.

In 2007, the Snyders decided to renovate the smaller barn to open an art gallery. But as they renovated and wired the barn for the conversion to a shop, they observed the folks who visited the cheese factory more closely. It became clear these folks didn’t want to wander among fine art with an ice cream cone in their hands.

The Galloping Goat was, instead, a fun, quirky and imaginative place to wander and spend some time.

“It had to be ice cream friendly,” said Lesley. “It would feature unusual stuff that nobody else had.”

Inside, the Galloping Goat was stuffed with small items and hundreds of signs—vintage and new. Many featured irreverent inscriptions such as “Live longer, remember less, drink wine.” Outside, the yard was populated by unusual and artistic iron works and an array of animals: chickens, ducks and goats. An unfortunate combination it turns out—as the goats tended to terrorize the other animals.

In time, Lesley introduced a line of funky clothing— promising visitors they would find something at the Galloping Goat they would not see anywhere else. The store embodied the marketing slogan, eclectic giggles, funky styles and retro fun.

“It worked for all demographics,” said Lesley. “It was great fun for young and old. We had people come back year after year.”

The Galloping Goat became a destination for unusual and distinctive toys and gifts.

“It was a great place to go to work,” said Tim. “You could wake up in a bad mood, and as soon as you enter the shop, you would feel better.”

But success became a bit of an anchor. From MapleFest in March to Thanksgiving weekend in October, the Snyders minded the Goat.

“We were spread too thin,” said Lesley. “We couldn’t do the things or enjoy the County the way others do. We had no weekends off.”

In the meantime, they had acquired Rosehaven Yarn Shop—a yarn and knitting store in Picton. As that business grew—with classes, festivals and special events such as knitting retreats—the stress of juggling all these activities in addition to managing the Galloping Goat slowly became untenable.

Still, the decision to close the Galloping Goat was a hard one.

“There was a great energy there,” said Lesley. “It felt good just being there.”

Nevertheless, they decided last winter that 2016 would be the last season for the store. Even then, the couple wavered all summer long.

But the stresses only become greater. Tim is increasingly in demand as a cartoonist, an illustrator and web designer, and online presence manager. His editorial cartoon is featured in The Times each week. Meanwhile, Rosehaven is busier than ever—carrying much sought after lines of yarn—serving a large market regionally as well as shipping around the world.

Leah, their oldest, has left home to find her way in the world. Their 16-year-old son, Quinn, isn’t interested in giving up his free time to manage the store.

One evening in August, Lesley heard a loud crack outside. Grandma Willow—a tree nearly 10 feet in diameter at its base—was in distress. Twenty minutes later it lay on the ground—narrowly missing the century-old barn that had served as the first Black River Cheese Factory. Branches were strewn across a wide swath.

It was a sign.

So on Thanksgiving weekend, the Galloping Goat closed for the last time. The Snyders have some remorse—but the niche the Goat filled alone has now become home to several unique County businesses. Other shops and stores have since opened up at Black River, ensuring it remains a destination for visitors and County residents.

“Now we feel we can get out and do things in the community,” said Tim.

They estimate about 15,000 people wandered through the shop each year. The Snyders still mourn the loss of Grandma Willow, but continue to cherish their little piece of heaven on the Black River.