"Conversations with a Llama"

Cherokee caught my eye as soon as he was loaded off the horse trailer. Maybe I sensed he had a lot to teach me. Maybe he sensed that as well, because the lessons began only moments after we met. "Don't be afraid to look foolish," he seemed to say as he attempted to chew a painted emblem off the side of the trailer. Around and around the edge he went, getting nowhere, but seeming to have fun in the process. His antics made me laugh, and I knew I would be spending the day with this gentle giant.

My friend Laura Moser, leader of the trek and co-creator of Avalon Llama Treks, informed me that Cherokee wasn't a typical llama. They'd gotten him from a petting zoo where he was raised in a small space and ate all day. "He thinks he's a goat," she said. I was so intrigued.

With six llamas and seven guests on the trek, my fiance Mark and I decided we'd share Cherokee during the five-mile walk up to Twin Falls. Laura said he needed an extra watchful eye anyway, since he'll eat anything that happens to come into view, including rhododendron, which is poisonous to llamas. We agreed to watch him closely. Mark headed off down the trail with Cherokee, and I followed from behind.

"Even if this guy knows where he's going, I'm no follower," Cherokee told me, as he pushed his way next to Mark on the trail. Mark looked at him and told him to "line up", the command Laura told us to use when he tried to lead his human instead of follow. Cherokee lined up for a minute or two, and was soon back next to Mark and eating everything that appeared in front of him. Mark struggled with the huge creature to no avail. Strong-willed Cherokee was not about to be controlled by anyone. "Be your own leader," he seemed to say.

Mark and I switched off maybe a mile into the trail, and I got to experience the adventure of walking Cherokee first-hand. Every two minutes was a snack break. I tried to hold his reins tight, but he was most definitely stronger and was going to eat when he damn well wanted to. He was also going to eat WHAT he wanted, he let me know by pruning a nearby rhodedendron. I looked at him quite frightfully and screamed, "What's wrong with you? Are you insane?" I dug my hand around his mouth, pulling out as much as I could get of the partially-chewed shiny leaves. He seemed quite baffled by this. "Life isn't fun if you don't take some risks," he said matter of factly, and led on down the trail. I shook my head and laughed.

Once we reached the falls, we tied the llamas down in an area safe for them to graze and began to set up our lunch. As all the other llamas began to prune the little trees, enjoy the evergreens and chomp on the kudzu, Cherokee sat gracefully, head held high, enjoying the heat of the day. I watched in disbelief. What's wrong with you, I thought. Now that you have a chance to eat everything you want, you're just going to sit there? "I don't conform," he replied, "I like to do my own thing in my own time."

Laura's gourmet lunch was nothing short of a magnificent feast, and the conversation was as delightful as the food. We took turns hiking up the falls and hiking around the bend for potty breaks. Several of us fed grapes to Cherokee from our lips.But I was anxious to get on with my lessons from Cherokee.

Back on the trail, we decided to lead our own llamas through the river, rather than cross on the footbridge the way we did on the way up. Wet to our knees in the cold water, we all enjoyed sharing this experience with the llamas and discovered why they wanted to stay in the water once they were in it. It felt so good on our hot and tired feet!

All 5 river crossings went smoothly. At the last river crossing, we descended a little hill and around a bend before we reached the water. With four llamas in front of us, Cherokee seemed rather restless. He kept inching forward, trying to hurry the others along without success. Then, in one bold moment, he jumped off the edge of the hill, yanking me into the water with him, and charged across the stream ahead of everyone else. "Live with wild abandon," he informed me as he climbed out of the water and walked slowly up the hill on the other side.

The remainder of the trail was muddy and riddled with hoof prints from the horses that frequently use it. At one point, the entire trail seemed to be one big mud hole. I let Cherokee's reins out and walked around the edge at the least messy spot I could find. But Cherokee would not budge. I pulled and tugged and begged and pleaded. Another guest pushed him from behind. He was determined he was not moving from that spot, and he didn't. When I walked back and loosened the pull on the reins, he turned and began to lead me through a place between some trees where there was no mud to speak of and the earth was cool and solid under our feet. "Just because the trail goes that way doesn't mean you have to," he said. "Blaze your own trails. Take control of your own life. Create your own destiny."

The day ended all too quickly for me, and seeing Cherokee loaded back onto the trailer brought tears to my eyes. I called to him, and he came to the opening and stuck his head out. I petted him gently on the ears, and he closed his eyes. I don't know if Cherokee was some sort of guide sent to me or what his ultimate purpose was with me that day. Messengers often come in ways we least expect them. I do know I am different somehow after this experience with him. He's as good a friend as I've ever known. Thank you, Cherokee. I look forward to seeing you again.

• Llamas are members of the camel (camelid) family. Camelids originated on the central plains of North America about 40 million years ago. From there, about 3 million years ago, camelids dispersed to South America. By the end of the last ice age (10,000-12,000 years ago), the camelids were extinct in North America.
• Llamas were domesticated from guanacos by the Incas in the higher Peruvian Andes Mountains near Lake Titicaca around 4,000 B.C. Llama herders were considered members of nobility and were paid very well.
• Llamas are among the oldest domesticated animals in the world. Primarily a beast of burden ("the ships of the Andes"), they also provided native herdsmen with meat, wool, hide, manure pellets for fuel, and offerings to the gods.
• Today there are an estimated 55-65,000 llamas in the U.S. and Canada.

~ Julia Allen works for Papa John's as a shift manager, and lives in Asheville, NC.