In a monumental act, the United States Congress created Yellowstone National Park on March 1, 1872 following the astonishing reports of three exploratory expeditions into the interior of a diverse wilderness in the barely colonized American West. President Ulysses S. Grant signed the Yellowstone National Park Protection Act, thus saving 2.2 million acres of wild country from future private development. Yellowstone, the country's and the world's first national park was set apart for the "enjoyment of the people" due to its unusual natural splendor mostly based on the geothermal wonders: "the planet's most active, diverse and intact collections of combined geothermal, geologic and hydrolic features and systems and the underlying volcanic activity that sustains them". (Yellowstone Resources and Issues Handbook).

Unfortunately, the enjoyment of the people expressed itself mostly through eviction of the indeginous people who called Yellowstone home; it applied excessive hunting leading to the near extinction of the bison, radical reduction of the number of predators, eradication of the wolf.  General lawlessness and destruction drove the natural balance of Yellowstone's hitherto barely touched ecosystem to near collapse within a relatively short period of time. Therefore, the US Army arrived in 1886 to restore law and order and remained until 1918 when it turned over the park management to the National Park Service created in 1916.

To this day, Yellowstone is at the center of a number of big issues and opposing opinions such as wolf restoration and the effects of climate change - most notably wildfires and smoke pollution - but remains a valuable refuge for those seeking to restore soul and body amid spectacular canyons, waterfalls, quiet trails and the extraordinaty feeling that comes from watching a bear ambling across a meadow or hearing a pack of wolves howl. Gushing geysers, rumbling hot springs, gurgling mud pots remind the visitor that a volcano shifts below the surface and that Yellowstone was, is, and always will be a place like no other. Yellowstone National Park, at the core of one of the last, largest and nearly intact ecosystem in the temperate zone of planet Earth is a an area of astonishing variations of geoplogical formations, diversity of plant and animal life, and rich cultural history.

One of the great balancing acts of Yellowstone National Park is tourism and its impact on infrastructure, wildlife and natural resources. The emergence of COVID-19 tempered visitation only briefly. In 2020, 3.81 million people visited the park, only 200,000 less than the year before. Visitation soared to 4.86 million in 2021, breaking the prior record set in 2016. Yellowstone's popularity for familities has soared, and a tiny fraction joined us on our llama treks in 2021. While high visitation strains roads and other infrastructure and there is talk about restraining measures such as those already in place in other national parks, our message of sustainable backcountry travel with llamas remains on the forefront of our mission. Park your car and hike! Better yet, hike with charming llamas. Get away from the roads and the crowds. Visit the backcountry. 

Yellowstone will open its roads again this summer of 2022. New road surfaces are in place, more lanes, more pull-outs, more parking areas. Additional construction plans are already mapped out to be implemented soon.  Yellowstone's 150th anniversary will certainly be cause for celebration and an array of activities are planned to honor the occasion throughout the summer. Many Native American tripbes are expected to participate. However, due to the pandemic, park staff haven't scheduled any large-scale events, yet. The Park Service just announced that their indoor mask mandate has ended.

Yellowstone stood the test of time and survived wars, civil unrest, fires and tourism. So far. We feel that we are required to be stewards to these remarkable and beloved lands. Yellowstone was set aside to be saved from private development. Yet every year it is being developed more for "the enjoyment of the people". Will we kill Yellowstone with our love for it? Will be smother it with millions of humanity and choke the life out of it with our cars, our noise and our trash?

Yellowstone's magic really lies within its wildness. Tapping into the soul of Yellowstone restores ours. And for me, Yellowstone's soul does not reside in the gift shops, the new widened roads, the cocktail bars. It does not connect with me watching a bear through a throng of cars backed up for miles. I find Yellowstone on its quiet trails, by glossy lakes in dark forests, steaming springs in a shadowy glen. I find Yellowstone while admiring elk tracks laid down on a muddy trail right next to those of my llamas...year after year.

Happy 150th birthday, Yellowstone! And many happy returns.

"Are you ready to lead your llama, Noe?"

Noe, a blond, cute, 4 year-old from Switzerland scrapes the toe of her tiny boot across the dirt and looks down. "Nein," comes the whispered reply. No. Llamas and people are ready to hit the trail. Lupe, Noe's llama companion, turns his ears in her direction. He understands German but does not seem to take her rejection personally. She's a kid. Lupe gazes at Yellowstone's vast landscape as he is being tied to the saddle of another llama. He is up for the challenge. He has done it before. Working his llama magic, that is.

Llamas and kids have a special connection. Together, they make magic on a regular basis. I have witnessed it again and again on our treks over the many summers. Kids attach quickly to llamas because of the animals' calm acceptance of whoever or whatever you are. In little humans they recognize innocence and trust, and they do their best to tread carefully around them. The kids look up to an animal that towers over them and follows willingly the gentlest tug of their tiny hands. While adults are happy to park their llama hiking companions in the meadow at the end of the hike, the kids are often inseparable from their new friends. They make sure the llamas are okay and feed them wildflowers and grain.

We haven't hiked more than 10 minutes down the trail. Noe, walking next to her mother, turns her head repeatedly to watch Lupe marching along tied behind Picasso. He seems oblivious of the small hiker who stumbles on the trail craning her neck to to see him. Soon I feel a tug on my shirt. "May I lead my llama now?" Noe asks, with emphasis on "now" - "jetzt!" I oblige, slip Lupe's Lead into her hand, and the two glide along the trail with a happy spring in their step. As I snatch a photo, Lupe seems to grin. He has worked his magic and it soon becomes apparent so has she. Tall llama and little human bounce along, enjoying the moment of new adventure and a magical friendship. 

Candido is often the favorite llama on the trek. Beautiful, fluffy and never skittish or pushy, he likes his personal space and wanders around free and untethered in camp. Sierra, 11 and her brother who is 8 are on the trek with their parents. When everybody is settled in camp, Sierra who is shy, sits down and begins to sketch her surroundings while her brother just wants to hug his llama, Teddy, as much as possible until Teddy reminds him gently that now he would like to graze. Candido, meanwhile, avoids the parents' well-meaning attempts to feed him wildflowers by throwing himself on the ground and wallowing, raising a lot of dust. After setting up the tents, I later check on the llamas who are settled in the meadow. Candido is sitting next to Sierra, who is bent over her pad sketching him. Candido is definitely posing to look his best.

Quinn is 8 and full of impatient energy. He asks a thousand questions and wants to know the answer to more. Quinn seems annoyed by Diego the llama, who hums incessantly and pulls back on his lead slowing Quinn down. The boy, who wants to get to camp as fast as possible, argues with Diego to no avail. His mother offers to lead Diego and hands over her llama, Ishi, to her son. We resume our hike. "How is Diego?" Quinn, who is now leading Ishi but ignoring him, demands to know just a short while later. Diego, way in the back of the line, keeps humming. After a few turns in the trail, Quinn is not happy being separated from his original charge and demands him back. Off he goes again with Diego and as I turn a short while later, the two are walking quietly and in step towards camp.

There are many examples of the special magic between kids and llamas. Llamas do not like kids running wild around them, but more often than not I observe youngsters becoming quiet and respectful around the llamas, wanting to please them and just be with them on their terms. The llamas respond to kids' honest approach and their need to be encouraged. Noe was intimidated at first but sensed that Lupe would be gentle and considerate. Sierra felt accepted and her art appreciated by her new friend. Quinn gave up his impatience in return for a peaceful friendship. The llamas sensed that their help was needed and showed the kids that it is okay to be afraid, shy or impatient and that if they made a tiny step towards the llamas, there would be a huge reward that put smiles on everybody's faces. 

Returning from a trek one day, I hurried home to resume the training of our novice packer, Alicio. I entered his corral with lead in hand and goal in mind. Alicio moved away from me and did not want to cooperate. I was surprised because he had advanced nicely in an earlier session. Then I remembered. I stopped in my tracks and closed my eyes. When I opened them again, my heart was open as well. I smiled at beautiful Alicio and took a bow. "May I have this dance?" I asked. And as I clicked the lead lock into his halter ring, he didn't object. Soon we moved around the corral in unison, enjoying the magic of working together and understanding and respecting each other. I was honest in my requests and Alicio responded in kind. After a while he seemed to smile and I swear I heard him whisper: "You have been with those kids again, haven't you?"

 It is winter. Every morning at feeding time, I have to fight off two llamas who do not need extra nutrition to get the buckets with soaked alfalfa pellets to the two that do. This involves a lot of trickery, quickly locking gates, hiding the bucket behind my back, etc. So this morning I locked in Diego, who is just obnoxious trying to get his nose into the bucket at all costs, into a stall in the barn so I can leave the bucket with Picasso, who for some mysterious reason is not eating hay and who I have been feeding extra nutrition for weeks. He is quite skinny. He is also very sensitive to stress, other llamas milling around, spitting and so forth. So keeping him calm is necessary for him to eat. So while Diego is locked in and Picasso is munching away, I am breaking big blocks of ice from the gate area so I can get in and out without having to squeeze through. I am making good progress with that, freeing the gate so it swings open a bit more. While I am working, Diego is trying hard to get out of the stall and to the bucket with goodies. I let go of the gate and rush over to prevent Diego from pushing the stall door open - and Picasso is out the gate!!

I am NOT getting any breaks here. Did I mention that Picasso moves like a deer? He is the most athletic llama of the bunch. What follows is an hour (or it seemed like an hour) of futile chasing on foot (lots of snow and ice around here at the moment!) and by car. Of course, Picasso ignores the bucket I rattle and is well aware of the halter and lead I carry. As plan B, I take the bucket and place it in the middle of a corral that I use in the summer for training at the bottom of the road, adjacent to the main fenced area. I have to lift the metal panel functioning as a gate out of 2 feet of caked snow in order to open it. Luckily it comes loose and can be moved enough to leave an opening for a llama to fit through - I hope. I leave it open and place the pink bucket in the corral. Then I run back to the car and continue chasing Picasso who runs full out in all directions along roads and fields, around neighbors' houses, up my road, back down my road and so on. I am trying to wear him out. In the process I wear myself out, backing up the long suburban over and over again to chase after the fleeting llama-deer. At the same time I am telling myself that this is it, I will just leave him to hopefully come back eventually to be with the other llamas. But I give chase nevertheless. 

At a certain point, Picasso runs back up my driveway to the gate that's below the one he escaped through earlier. I jump out of the car and cautiously approach. He avoids me, of course, and moves away. I open the gate a little trying to entice him - and little Pikuni, wild as ever, escapes in the blink of an eye. I can't believe it!! Pikuni kicks up his heels in delight and races after Picasso who runs down the road again. They are headed for the corral, through deep snow. They see the opening and bucket and run in and Pikuni takes possession of the snacks. Picasso stands near him, uncertain what to do next. I race through the snow as fast as I can. I make it! I lift the metal panel and slam it closed. Gotcha! Picasso circles in the corral on top of 2 feet of packed snow, looking for a way out. I whip out the halter and go after him. Soon he is tied to the rail. I am not taking any chances. I return to the house and get a second bucket with feed, so both llamas are content for a while in the elevated corral while I free the inner gate from ice and snow. Eventually, these two are reunited with the herd and I close off the corral.

I am beat but glad I know a little about llama psychology. Nevertheless, it amazes me how both running llamas saw that opening and the pink bucket in the middle of the corral. I drag myself back up to the barn and soon hear Diego's loud complaints. He is still locked in the stall and emerges with a snort of disapproval as he is finally let out.