Chapter Nine:
Walk with a Llama
[Page 1]
"Suppose we led people on day hikes with our llamas, right
here at Juniper Ridge?'' Kelly said to me one winter day. "It
would be fun, and we could make part of our living. We could go
out Llama Lane, and we could also go down to the lower part of the
land.''
I liked the idea. We discussed it for a few days and decided to
give it a try. Once we did, things began to fall into place. A neighbor
whose land we wanted to hike across happened to drop by and freely
gave us permission. We met a woman who worked for the Forest Service
and could give us a lot of information on trail creation and maintenance.
Soon Kelly began building a long trail, winding down our steep little
secret valley to a lovely boulder-strewn spot we called Boulder
Hollow.
The only llama owner in the area who had done commercial day hikes
happened to phone us. When we told him our plans, he gave us the
name of a land-use planning consultant, Peter Brunner, who had worked
for the county planning department. Peter deftly guided Kelly and
me through the process of applying for a conditional use permit.
We thought that having the idea in February would give us plenty
of time to prepare for the coming summer, when we would begin the
hikes--but it took months to get the necessary permit. We had started
barely in time.
After the public hearing at which our permit was granted, two local
television stations contacted us and did stories about our hikes.
Wonderful free publicity!
With so many things happening so smoothly, I felt a happiness.
It wasn't simply that the project was going ahead. I took these
little things as love taps from life, saying "you're on the
right track.''
We put together a brochure which said, "Walk with a llama
at Juniper Ridge Ranch.'' I tried out recipes for quiche, banana
bread, muffins, and other goodies. "The success of your venture
will depend on the food to an amazing extent,'' another llama packer
had told me.
I also spent more time with our male llamas, accustoming them to
our newly-acquired packs and to coming into the living room. At
our elevation, we could have cold weather in any month. If it was
unpleasant to sit outside, I wanted to have the picnics in our spacious
living room/solar greenhouse, where the llamas could sit on the
rock floor with some hay while we ate.
One day I brought Whiskers into the house. Kelly and I had taken
him up on the ridge for a photo session, to get our logo design.
At the front door, Whiskers jumped completely over the sill and
arrived in rather more of a hurry than I expected. The lettuce we
had in bins was getting to be a nice size, and he leaned over for
a nibble.
"NO!'' I said. He stopped.
He investigated the fascinating array of tools lying on a table,
than moved around nearer the lettuce. There was a pause; I guessed
that he knew what I was thinking.
He went for the lettuce. I said no again, hoping that you could
train llamas not to eat house plants. He meandered away and didn't
deign to look at the lettuce any more.
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