Llamas or Freeways ?
I have planned my route carefully to avoid having to walk on any dreaded freeway. Road number 90, such a beast, rockets huge trucks, weaving $500,000 RV’s and cars primed in every color of the rainbow across the bleak Montana landscape. I avoid this unfriendly highway, taking instead the parallel, but hilly route, which maps declare as “scenic” route. Generally, it was! Along these farm roads, past horse ranches and into little towns I enjoy walking on the alternative route.
Interspersed among the sprawling ranches are dilapidated trailer parks where the struggling working folks live. Thoughts of these rural Americans keep me occupied as I sluggishly [still worn out from my climb over Gold Pass] wobble along.
I come up upon them suddenly. It is a full, but small, llama ranch. The stern and resolute facial features of these unique creatures intrigue me. “What do you do with them”, I ask a 70’s something farmer armed Gerry who is riding a law mower in front of the ranch. “I sell them to guy like you”, he casually replies. Once again, I was glad to have disavowed the freeway.