Along the Way

ALONG THE WAY My Best Friend and Traveling Companion: the Llama

In the late 1950s, when I arrived in Phoenix, most of the roads were two-lane, the population was less than 200,000, and paving the Black Canyon Highway to Prescott had just been completed. As a performer on the old “Wallace and Ladmo” TV show (KPHO-TV5) in the 1960s, I traveled Arizona from top to bottom, putting on stage shows for kids in small towns Tuba City to Pinetop to Nogales to Yuma all by automobile.

Years drifted by, and I got out of show business, leaving the state and promising myself that one day I would return for a closer look at places I had seen only from a car window (mostly at night). Only the next time I would rent a horse, travel the high country, do a bit of fishing in Hawley Lake, do a little backpacking, and, of course, bring along my newest best friend, Fido. No, not a trusty dog. On this trip, my best friend was to be a llama. Three of them in fact.

If you are a backpacker or hiker, you may already have discovered this clever animal, which has found its way into our hearts by way of Peru, Bolivia, and Chile. This newfound friend can spit and hit a bull's-eye at 20 feet; carry whatever you want on its back up to 150 pounds for 20 miles and never complain; warn you of danger with its built-in alarm system; require a drink of water only once a day; and eat on the run (or walk), ingesting mostly leaves and grass off the ground (no stopping for lunch or dinner). It's also so gentle and safe you could trust it to lie down next to a child.

The trip began in central California, where several friends and I made plans to transport our trio of llamas by truck to Show Low, Arizona, where we rented a cabin for a week's stay.

Prior to leaving the llama farm in California, we were given a brief instructional course on how to handle the animals and what to expect. But I should tell you now that you don't need a college education to go backpacking with llamas. They're easy to handle.

They also are terrific pack animals on wilderness trips, such as the one we took into the White Mountains. The llamas carried everything we needed for survival, leav-ing us free to enjoy the hike without requiring a nightly back rub.

Why do llamas make such great packers?

Not only did our llamas tote the heavy stuff, but they were great companions. Obviously, you can't carry on a conversation with a llama, but when you stop to gaze at a magnificent mountain view (and there are plenty in northern Arizona), your four-footed friend will join you in appreciating the sight.

Because of their calm and gentle nature, llamas are virtually defenseless against predators. We were fortunate in not having any close calls on our trip.

About that spitting I mentioned earlier. It is the one bad habit llamas have. They like to spit, and they like to spit with their mouths full of whatever they are eating at the moment. However, they seldom spit at people just at each other. So if you take more than one llama on your hike into the backcountry, this habit could prove to be the highlight of your trip.

Travelers are always complaining about wanting to do something different come vacation time. What to do? Treat your family or a friend to a llama trip and enjoy the wondrous beauty of the Arizona mountains. Go up to Strawberry and traverse the Mogollon Rim. It's breathtakning. The mountain climate is gentle most of the year, and a trip into the backwoods will give you a different perspective on life.

Think about it. Next time someone in the office tells you to “take a hike,” just answer, “don't mind if I do” and take along a llama.