So we are driving back to our remote hostel along a remote dirt road after a day in the spectacular Torres del Paine National Park…Carter has taken the wheel of the rental car and due to not having driven anything in two months and the constant blind curves and hill rises, we are not tearing up the road by any means.
Suddenly, on the side of the road, we see a mid-sized 6′ Guanaco (a llama we called ‘Al The Alpaca‘) trapped in a wire sheep fence. Apparently, while trying to jump the fence, his rear leg caught in the top wire 4’ off the ground and the wire is hooked behind his hoof; Three legs on the ground, he is pulling fiercely to free the other.
I leap from the car and hop (or climb over slowly) the fence to approach Al from the other side wondering whether or not he could bite me with his flat teeth, or as I had seen earlier in the day, spit on me. I feel immune, regardless, due to the numerous, expensive shots I received pre-trip. As Al thrashes about (thinking that I am thinking he would make a great dinner), I find I am not strong enough to separate the wire using the jack from the spare tire kit.
Al’s mother is in the field behind me watching and I see and hear the rest of the herd across the road bleating at me. I am pleased to remember I am no longer on Safari in Tanzania where Al and I would simply be eaten by something else.
Greer jumps the fence and comes to pull the wires with me. When did he get so strong? His additional power easily untangles the fix.
Al staggers away with his bloody leg and just up the road reunites with his mother. As they move away, his brother comes sprinting down the hill from the herd to them.
Then, standing with the sun behind them, the mother stops, turns and stares at me for a while. I feel an unspoken thank you as we make eye contact and I give a salute.
Carter starts crying. Then laughs and laughs and laughs.
Harry
The Brighams Of Baltimore 