My 7- and 10-year-old daughters’ collective stinkface when I announced we were going hiking was, to put it lightly, dismaying. I believe kids should be outside as much as possible, and that “let’s go hiking” should be part of every Colorado child’s basic vocabulary and cultural heritage.
But even though they always end up enjoying our adventures in the woods, my girls had started acting like I had offered them fried liver and onions with a lemon juice chaser, when all I said was, “We’re going hiking today.”
This time, however, I had a kicker: “… with llamas!”
My up-sell worked, as sour faces turned curious. “Our guide,” I explained “will meet us at the Forest Service Station with the animals in a trailer, then we’ll follow him to the trail.”
The next thing we knew, we were driving behind two fluffy llama butts, heading down a twisty road. My girls were excitedly sunscreening up in the back seat.
At the trailhead, Don Shefchik, field director at Paragon Guides, unloaded the animals and assigned them.
“This one’s Bailey,” he said, handing a rope to my 7-year-old, who was beaming, “and this is Sneffels — named after the mountain,” Shefchik said, giving the other lead to my 10-year-old.
Paragon Guides has long been the go-to Vail Valley company for guided iconic Colorado adventures in the backcountry, including hut trips, backpacking, rock climbing — and llama packing. They started using the animals — which they lease each season from a ranch on the Front Range — to haul gear one year, and the concept stuck. They now offer several llama-centric day trips which can accommodate families with different hiking levels. I’d chosen the mellowest they had, a more-or-less flat, out-and-back walk up the Cross Creek Trail.
“When you want to introduce yourself to a llama,” Shefchik was saying, “number one is you have to be gentle, soft and quiet. When you come up to a llama, the best place to start is right in here.” He rubbed the thick fur at the bottom of Bailey’s neck. “Good boy. Good boy.”
I helped Shefchik load the panniers full of breads, meats, cheeses and other goodies on the saddles, and we started walking. Shefchik pointed out Mount of the Holy Cross when it appeared between pine trees. The trail gently ascended a rise covered in brilliant, early-summer wildflowers.
For me, this was it: We were outside, hiking in the mountains! For my girls, it was something else, something their own. Their legs moved, but they barely noticed. The painted scenery enveloped them, but they kept turning their heads, seeming to notice nothing but the huffing, humming llamas walking with them, along the trail.