With Llamas across Northern Yosemite: July-August 2014

A Report of a Hike with Seven People and Six Llamas across Virginia, Matterhorn, and Kerrick Canyons

At Green Creek Trail Head

Tuesday, July 29: Into Virginia Canyon

The morning was somewhat overcast, suggesting more rain would come. It was our first morning of doing llama chores. We needed to be sure the saddles were put on properly and the packs were balanced. It took until about 10 a.m., but there were no major difficulties.

We headed down into Virginia Canyon, a pleasant stroll, even though the rain began again. Given the previous day our goal was modest, the junction with the Pacific Crest Trail. To my surprise there aren’t great camping sites at the junction, but there was an acceptable site with decent grazing. The weather did not encourage pressing on.

Wednesday, July 30: Virginia Canyon to Matterhorn Canyon

Our second morning with the llamas went smoothly. By now we had the routine down. The panniers were soon balanced and loaded and Dan took his position as chief llama leader. There was a bit of rain as we left but it soon diminished. The sky remained overcast, which was actually pleasant since it made the hike up from Virginia Canyon cooler. We took a break at Miller Lake before heading down into Matterhorn Canyon. On the way down we had our one moment of llama panic. The descent is steep and the llamas weren’t happy about it. Sunny D, the lead llama, started trotting downhill and showed a distressing interest in cutting switchbacks. Dan tried to keep up, a dangerous thing, and soon the llamas got tangled in the brush. Quick uncoupling was needed. After that Dan learned that keeping the lead llama on a short leash was the way to maintain control and we had no problems thereafter.

We found a great camp site just south of the junction, with a legal fire ring and good views. There were even several deer eyeing us curiously. Deer in national parks generally don’t view humans as a threat since hunting is illegal. There were also energetic fish swimming around in Matterhorn Creek.

Campsite in Matterhorn Canyon

By now the group was complaining about Tux, my llama, the best in the Sierra Nevada. Now Tux had a rough childhood. Male llamas tend to establish dominance by nipping at the hindquarters of other males, and Tux had been picked on. He was nervous if any other llama was behind him. As a result he was always the last llama in the train, and my hiking companions were not always complimentary about his performance. Since, as usual, I was considerably to the rear of the group I was not available to defend Tux.

Tux, the Admirable Llama

Fortunately, as a trained counselor Dan stepped in and did some llama counseling that evening in Matterhorn Canyon. Llamas, it turns out, rarely receive such professional attention.

Llama Counseling

Dan’s efforts, we all agreed, had a significant impact on llama behavior. They were more at ease with themselves and with each other. Apparently the llamas agreed, since Dan got this note in the mail a week after our return:

A Mysterious Thank You Note

Now, were anyone else to claim the receipt of such a note I would be most suspicious, but since Dan is a person of great probity I can only believe that the llamas somehow found a way to express their appreciation. It is disappointing to hear that Tux is still having difficulties.

Contented Llamas in Matterhorn Canyon

Thursday, July 31: Benson Pass and Smedberg Lake

We were getting better at getting off in the morning. We had the llamas ready to go by 9:45 and headed up the trail. It’s a good uphill stretch to Benson Pass, much of it shaded.

Heading from Benson Pass to Smedberg Lake

The view from Benson Pass is a fine one, both to the east and west.

We found a good site at the west end of Smedberg, attended to the llamas, set up camp, enjoyed dinner, and admired the view. Most of the group took a pleasant hike around Smedberg, a most attractive lake.

July 31 was the day my retirement took effect. John, who distressed Dan, Nick, Jane, and me by preparing dinners considerably more elegant than our freeze-dried meals, prepared a most tasty dessert in honor of the occasion. I will say that although freeze-dried dinners taste good at 10,000 feet, I’ve never found a freeze-dried dessert that I liked. John’s effort was a definite success. I became professor emeritus in culinary style.

That evening I made a distressing discovery. Somewhere between Matterhorn Canyon and Smedberg Lake, I lost my rental car key. I thought I had cleverly put it in something big enough so that I couldn't lose it — but lose it I did. I spent an uncomfortable night wondering what to do. We were due out Sunday afternoon, and all of us had plane flights back to Michigan on Monday morning. Since it seemed unlikely that we could resolve the situation Sunday afternoon, the best plan I could devise was to break a window of my rental car, spotted at Twin Lakes, which would at least allow the other six in the group to retrieve their possessions and, with the presumed help of Greg Harford, get the three people in my car to Sonora, where perhaps they could pay someone to drive them to the airport in San Francisco. I was not a happy camper.

Friday, August 1: Smedberg Lake to Kerrick Canyon

I broke the news of the missing key to the group the next morning. They took it rather well. I outlined my plan and hoped for better ideas. Jane and Nick proposed hiking back toward Benson Pass looking for it, but I nixed their kind suggestion. It could have gotten lost anywhere between the Matterhorn Canyon floor and Benson Pass — and I knew we had the roughest day of hiking before us.

Benson Lake is a popular camping spot, but we had to get to Kerrick Canyon so we hiked past. It was a challenging day. First one climbs out of the Smedberg basin. Next comes a long descent to the Benson Lake junction. Then there is a stiff climb over Seavey Pass (the poorest excuse for a Sierra pass I’ve encountered). Then a fairly easy drop into Kerrick Canyon. The llamas were tired by the time we got to Benson Lake junction. As we began the climb up, Sunny D. decided he had had enough and plopped down in the middle of the trail, showing no inclination to go further. After a quick council, we put Joe in the lead. He behaved admirably and the llama train moved.

As the day went on I asked those we met if they perchance had a satellite phone. I wasn’t expecting to hear someone say they did. However, in one of those fortunate encounters one sometimes has in the Sierra, I met a CCC trail crew doing fine work repairing and improving the trail. I explained our situation — and to my surprise they had one for emergency use. The leader said I could make a quick call. I succeeded in getting my son, and in about two minutes explained what had happened, asked him to contact the rental car company, and figure out some sort of solution by the time we emerged two days hence.

I felt a lot better. I wasn’t sure what would happen, but I had confidence in my son’s problem-solving ability. As I caught up with the rest of the group a ways up Kerrick Canyon I reported the good news. Things were looking brighter.

About a mile up-canyon from the junction we found a decent developed campsite blessed with a fine established fire pit.

And we had the llama routine down by now. Everyone pitched in, and soon the llamas were grazing contentedly while we went about the rest of the evening’s business.

Campfire in Kerrick Canyon

Saturday, August 2: Kerrick Canyon to Peeler Lake

One of our party had boot problems — the soles were separating. This could have been a problem, although not an insurmountable one, had not Greg Harford had the foresight to send Gorilla Tape along with us. It worked. I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it. It held the boots together for two days, including the steep descent from Peeler Lake to Twin Lakes.

Unorthodox, but Effective, Boot Repair

The stroll up Kerrick Canyon is a pleasure. It is a gentle, open rise with good views all around. After the previous day an easy hike was welcome.

Heading Up Kerrick Canyon

Our National Geographic map indicated that there was no camping at Peeler Lake, so we reluctantly were going to head for Snow Lake, another 600 ft. or so of climbing. Fortunately, we met the only two people we encountered that day in Kerrick Canyon at the junction, who informed us that the map was outdated and that camping was now permitted. We cheerfully kept up the canyon until the Peeler Lake junction.

Llamas at Peeler Lake

Peeler is a fine lake and we reached a campsite with suitable grazing rather early. At that point John had an inspiration: he and I could hike out to Twin Lakes, retrieve the car spotted at Green Creek trail head, and straighten up the mess with my lost key. The rest of the group could hike out on Sunday as planned. At this point, we had no idea how things would turn out — I was depending on my son to have some sort of solution waiting once we emerged from the backcountry.

John and I left the group at Peeler and headed down to Twin Lakes, which we reached in a reasonable time. The first step was to call my son, who had performed admirably. It would have been possible to have the car towed to Reno to have a key made, which would have been both time-consuming and expensive. However, there is one, and only one, locksmith on the whole east side of the Sierra. My son had contacted him and he was expecting us. I called him and he agreed to meet us at Twin Lakes at 8:00 a.m. on Sunday morning. Now we needed to retrieve our second car from the Green Creek trail head. I walked into the friendly restaurant and asked the bartender if there might be an employee interested in earning some money by making the two-hour round trip. There was. By evening we were in Bridgeport looking for a motel. Every one was full.

That was a bit of a problem, since all our gear was at Peeler Lake. However, Juan, who had brought us to our car, had mentioned we could sleep on his floor if necessary. We drove back to Twin Lakes, found him, and the offer was still good. Before getting to sleep we had a fascinating conversation. He had come to the U.S. from Mexico 24 years ago, and risen to a responsible position. He married and raised two kids. His son just graduated from the University of California at Davis, and his daughter is working on a degree at California State University—Northridge. It struck me what a blessed country this is. A poor Mexican comes to the U.S., works hard, and sees his children prosper. I suppose it’s my own family history several generations back, and that of many Americans.

Sunday, August 3: Peeler Lake to Twin Lakes

Sunday morning the locksmith showed up as promised, worked his electronic magic to program a chip to start our car, and fifteen minutes later there was the cheery sound of a Dodge Grand Caravan coming to life. John and I had breakfast and headed to the Bridgeport Ranger Station with the thin hope that someone might have turned in the lost key. Nope.

We were back at Twin Lakes by noon, where Greg Harford showed up as promised. Our five fellow hikers arrived at the trail head fifteen minutes earlier. The llamas were unloaded, Harford got them in his trailer, and seven contented hikers headed toward San Francisco.

Last Look

a. We recommend them. Given the age range of the group (from the 50s to early 70s), we wouldn’t have done this hike with backpacks. Once one has the routines down llamas are a pleasure to work with. Unlike horses or mules they don’t kick. They have two-towed hooves, need no steel shoes, and are far easier on the trail than mules or horses. Their droppings are also less prolific and annoying. They eat almost anything green. Llamas are very good at adjusting to the speed of the person leading them.

b. The cost is comparable to mule and horse packers, with the advantage that one needs no packer along. Harford rents llamas for $60 a day. Since we had rental cars and could not pull the trailer he also rents, he delivered and picked his animals up for a reasonable charge. Everything together cost us about $400 per person for the week.

c. The first task after arriving at a good campsite is to get the llamas settled and the panniers unloaded. Usually we attached three or four to a picket line, and secured the others with “bags of rocks,” nylon sacks that one fills with enough convenient rocks to keep the llamas from wandering off. We’d usually give them a handful of llama pellets and make sure they had enough to drink (they don’t drink that much, being members of the camel family). After that, we’d give an occasional glance to make sure they were content, which they always were. In the morning we’d load the panniers, saddle the llamas, load them up, and check to be sure we weren’t leaving any llama gear behind.

d. The one thing most people ask about llamas is “Do they spit?” The answer is yes, but seldom at people. It’s a form of llama-to-llama communication. Our collective of llamas occasionally spit at each other, but it was hardly a problem.

e. They are a cause of great interest on the trail. Everyone wants to know about them. For some children encountering a llama train was a highlight of their trip. Llamas are gentle, and children can stroke their necks with perfect safety. If I were taking kids on a hiking trip I’d definitely consider llamas — but I would want another adult along to make sure all the llama chores are accomplished properly.

f. The one lesson we learned is that going downhill with a train of six llamas can be problematic. We had the moment of fear described above. Keep them on a short lead. The last llama in line can get whipsawed around switchbacks. At such times, splitting the group into twos or threes is a good idea.