Trekking with llamas in the backcountry By Garret Jaros
The Western rattlesnake stretched across the trail doesn’t spook the llamas. But there’s no doubt that they see it. With large, restless eyes, ears forever pricked, and necks on a swivel, llamas don’t miss much.
This rattler is a juvenile that’s in no hurry to move along and shows no alarm at the sudden appearance of three hikers and four llamas. “OK,” says Sherry Halligan, owner of Redmond-based Halligan Ranch Llama Adventures. “We’ll go around you.”
We are early into our hike at the majestic Smith Rock State Park, east of Terrabonne. On a typical hike, by this point I’ve usually shifted my backpack a few times, loosened some straps and cinched down others, in an optimistic attempt to ward off the inevitable burn between the shoulder blades.
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Today is different. It’s my first ever llama trek, a day hike where I don’t even need to carry my water if I don’t want to. The llamas are lightly loaded with a roll-top table and gourmet lunch. Halligan and business partner Diana Lyons have been taking people on day hikes and wilderness trips using llamas as the friendly beasts of burden for the past four years.
Halligan Ranch is one of only three commercial llama-packing outfits left in Oregon, and the only one operating in the Three Sisters and Mount Jefferson wilderness areas and the Willamette and Deschutes National Forests. The other two operate in the scenic but distant Wallowa-Whitman National Forest in the far northeast corner of Oregon.
Our trail at Smith Rock meanders through a high-desert wetland flush with wild mint and cattails before leveling off at a juniper- and sage-studded viewpoint on the canyon rim. Below, the Crooked River carves through what was once the interior of a volcanic vent. Across the river are the jagged red and yellow rock spires composed of “welded tuff” (hot ash) that lure climbers and moviemakers alike.
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The llamas are so quiet and agile-footed as they move between boulders and around tree branches, despite their box-like packs, that I have to look back to be sure mine is still attached to the lead rope in my hand. Llamas typically weigh 300 to 330 pounds (though they can weigh as much as 400 pounds) and can carry 20 percent of their lean body weight, though Halligan limits her animals to about 50 pounds.
Llamas are members of the camel family and have two toes and soft pads on their feet, which advocates say is easier on the environment than the hard hooves of horses. The animals are browsers, dining unobtrusively like deer. And they “prong” (run) like deer, too. Llamas were imported to the United States from South America, where they have been used for centuries for packing, clothing, and meat.
Llamas aren’t keen on being petted but they do allow it, Halligan says. You just have to be firm so they don’t think it’s a bug climbing on them. And yes, they do spit when upset, but the sentiment is generally reserved for a peer.
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Before Halligan discovered llamas, she had never hiked in the wilderness because she didn’t want to carry a pack on her back. “But llamas provided a chance to get out there,” she says. “And I’ve noticed that baby boomers, who are now in their late 50s and 60s, still want to be backpacking, but they don’t want to carry weight on their backs anymore, or they can’t. And so llamas provide a really nice access for them to the wilderness.”
