He checks me out with wide, curious eyes, one steely blue, the other cocoa brown. The mismatched combination gives him charm, as does his shaggy, Rastafarian hairdo.
When I glance his way, he blinks bashfully, or maybe flirtatiously. I reach up and rub his long neck, and he leans into me. Although it’s our first encounter, I feel certain: this is love at first sight.
Spending half a day with Azul, my llama companion, becomes more than a cute trail romance. It becomes a gentle lesson in life’s real essentials: patience, beauty, and peace.
A Rough Start
Our day begins on a sour note. We’ve booked the “Take a Llama to Lunch” day-hike with Wild Earth Llama Adventures. This six-hour experience in New Mexico’s Rio Grande Gorge is part of their scenic wilderness program.
Their day hikes include a naturalist guide, gourmet picnic lunch, and woolly llama companions to carry all of our gear. The llamas, gentle and sure-footed, carry around 80 pounds of gear each, per the outfitter’s policy.
We’d assumed navigating to the trailhead would be straightforward until we misplaced the detailed directions Wild Earth had sent. Armed with a map and optimism, I tell my husband, “The gorge is not far. How hard can this be?” Turns out: quite hard.
Lost on the High Desert
The Rio Grande Gorge cleaves through New Mexico’s plateau like a cosmic rift, which is 800 feet deep in places. We cross the towering Rio Grande Gorge Bridge, a well-known overlook, but find no sign of our meeting point.
Instead, we roll across a piñon-studded mesa, framed by endless blue sky; beautiful but misleading.
After a few tense minutes with no landmarks or campers, panic sets in. Just as I brace for disaster, a ranger station appears. The ranger confirms we’re off course: the recreation area is still nearly an hour away. With urgency, we press on.
A Desperate Dash Across the Mesa
No other cars, no signage, no distractions, just us and the vast high desert. Our little Chevy Cobalt turns into a “go-bolt” as we speed across the mesa, back over the gorge, and through sleepy towns like Arroyo Hondo and Questa.
The landscape is hauntingly beautiful, but we have a mission.
At last, we arrive at the Wild Rivers Recreation Area and follow a smooth road to the trailhead. There are no llamas visible yet, only a well-worn hoof-marked path and a view that makes you catch your breath.
Below us, the gorge yawns in basalt shadow, shaped by ancient water flows. The Rio Grande twists below, wild and free. But there’s no lingering; the llamas are waiting.
Meeting the Llamas
Our descent is slow and sweet. Juniper, yucca, prickly pear and desert grass rustle at our sides. In pockets of shade, moss and trumpet gooseberries thrive where volcanic rock seeps catch trickles of water.
At the canyon floor, near tumbling cascades, we see them: llamas grazing quietly, the picture of peaceful strength.
Our guide, Stuart Wilde, greets us with a warm, pony-tailed smile. A calming presence, he helps dissipate our frazzled energy.
Lunch arrives, a gourmet spread delivered by the very llamas that had carried it. Sandwiches, fruit, garden salads, natural sodas, and desserts: every bite tastes more special knowing it was packed in by these gentle animals.
Our group is small and curious: two retired couples from Texas, a younger pair from South Carolina, and of course, our four-legged trekking partners.
Stuart introduces the herd. “Here’s Raja. He likes to be the caboose. Zepher is the troublemaking teenager. Rusty? He’ll try to smell your face. And this,” he says with a grin, “is Azul. He’ll lead you today.”
Then he adds softly, “These guys carry about 80 lbs each. That lets you travel light and really soak in the wilderness.”
Life in the Wilderness
Stuart isn’t just a guide; he’s a storyteller. He tells us how he spends nearly 200 days a year exploring New Mexico’s backcountry with these llamas. He’s deeply familiar with the land, from ecology to history, and his passion is infectious.
Wild Earth Llama Adventures has been leading treks like this for decades.
Their group sizes are intentionally small to maintain intimacy and high safety. Their guides are trained in wilderness medicine, CPR, and emergency rescue. No detail is overlooked.
They operate in partnership with public land agencies, a nod to conservation and responsible travel.
Stories Carved in Stone
After lunch, Stuart leads us to nearby petroglyphs etched into basalt rock. The images of bighorn sheep, hunters and fertility symbols are centuries old. In their abstraction and elegance, they speak of abundance, renewal, and community.
Walking back to the trail, I feel like I’ve stepped into those ancient stories. The canyon isn’t just a landscape; it’s a living connection between past and present.
The Llama Effect
We begin our trek out of the gorge, climbing upward. My heart pounds, but not from fear. This time, it’s from pure gratitude and awe. There’s no rush, no schedule. Just the rhythm of my steps, the whisper of the wind, and the calm breathing of the llamas.
Azul walks beside me, his warm breath mingling with the scent of sage. At one point, he leans in close and lets out a soft, low moan, his llama-bray, Stuart later tells me.
I turn to meet his mismatched eyes, blue and brown, and something in my chest lifts. This is more than a hike. It’s a reminder to slow down. To be present. To let a llama teach me how to carry only what matters.
Final Thought: A Lesson in Slowing Down
As I finish the hike, my perspective has shifted. What began as a slightly chaotic, lost-in-the-desert morning turned into something quietly transformative.
Azul’s patient presence, the canyon’s ancient pulse, and Stuart’s gentle guidance taught me a simple truth: travel isn’t just about checking off destinations. Sometimes, it’s about slowing down enough to be loved by a llama. And in that love, I found peace.
Why This Trek Stays With You
- Educational immersion: The guides share deep knowledge of ecology, medicinal plants, regional history, and wilderness living skills.
- Responsible travel: Wild Earth works with the Forest Service and BLM to protect public lands and practices “leave no trace” principles.
- Flexible trip options: While this was a day hike, Wild Earth also offers multi-day treks in the Rio Grande Gorge, the Sangre de Cristo Mountains, and other remote areas.
- Safety and intimacy: Guides are wilderness-trained; llamas carry heavy gear, so hikers carry only a small daypack.
- Conservation ethos: The outfit supports llama rescue efforts, giving rescued llamas a second chance on the trail.
Learn more at Wild Earth Llama Adventures.
Where to Stay
The Taos Inn: Once over this hotel’s threshold, you’ll feel like you’ve stepped back to 1890, when it was home to Doc Martin and his wife Helen.
Margaritas and nightly live music flow freely from the Adobe Bar. Award-winning American fare is served up at the adjacent Doc Martin’s Restaurant. And cozy fireplace-lit adobe-style abodes that fan out from this central hub will satisfy any Southwestern historian.
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- Santa Fe Unplugged: Why New Mexico’s ‘City Different’ Should Be Your Next Creative Escape
- Vermejo: The Wild Heart of New Mexico’s Great Outdoors
Author Bio: Since 1996, while freelancing, Jane Cassie has had thousands of articles published. Her stories have appeared in CNN Magazine, Northwest Travel, New York Daily News, Chicken Soup For The Soul, Dreamscapes, Air Canada In-flight, Cottage Life, Epicure, and Travel, just to name a few. She has been a regular contributor to Spa Life, INNspire, North American Inns Magazine, Cottage, and Inspire Magazines.
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