Distinctly Montana Magazine

D I S T I N C T L Y M O N T A N A M A G A Z I N E • S P R I N G 2 0 2 0 70 When I saw him for the first time, sitting by the lake bathed in a spill of sunlight on an otherwise cloudy day in late October 2018, I felt hopeful that his story might have a happy ending. Pointing the binoculars again at the object in question about a mile away on the far shore of Lewis Lake, it had morphed, beyond any doubt, into a white llama. There he was, looking like he belonged here in the wilds of Yellowstone National Park. But he didn't. This was how our adventure began. After a false start, trying to make our way along the boggy shore, we finally found a hiking trail leading in the right direction and were on our way to rescue a llama that had been running free in the park for the last three months. Ike the llama, camped with a commercial tour group at Heart Lake back in July, had disap- peared into the night, leaving his halter and lead behind. The reason, it was surmised, was a painful wound on his cheek that his halter had rubbed on. A few attempts to capture him over the following weeks were thwarted by Ike's daring evasive maneu- vers and his stubborn refusal to be caught and put back into bondage. Soon, efforts by both the outfitter and the Park Service were discontinued and the llama abandoned to fend for himself. Park visitors re- ported spotting Ike along roads and hiking trails throughout the summer and backpackers and motorists posted his photos on social media. It was no coincidence that my own twen- ty-plus years' experience living and packing with and, yes, rescuing these intelligent and charming creatures finally led me on the path to Ike. Being a domestic herd animal, Ike had slim chances of surviving the winter in Yel- lowstone. Though sufficiently adapted to the harsh climes of the Andes mountains, llamas did not evolve to cope with snow many feet deep; neither are they meant to wander alone through wolf country. After finishing my own llama packing season and hearing about this sad situation, I assembled a small rescue crew of four humans and three llamas and drove down to Lewis Lake, Ike's last known location. I believed I had a good chance of convincing him to come home with us. With the three llamas in tow, we hiked through the woods for about a mile without seeing him. Then, suddenly, he came running, a flash of white and tan. Ike had spotted the llamas. I could feel his confidence and excite- ment as he approached. This guy was no fool. The wound on his cheek leaking pus was ap- parent. I stuck to my resolve not to touch him or otherwise infringe on his space. That had obviously backfired before. He was overjoyed to see the llamas but stared at us humans and I could see his mind working. T HE YOUNG TV REPORTER SETS UP HER CAMERA TRIPOD IN OUR YARD AS THE SNOW WHIRLS JUST IN TIME FOR CHRISTMAS EVE. The neighbor kids, dressed in colorful win- ter garb, shuffle their feet in expectation. The star of the show stands next to me, tall and handsome with a red scarf around his white neck and a pack filled with Christmas gifts on his back. Here we are, at the end of our long adventure and the beginning of a new one. "Smile, my friend," I say to Lewis. "You made it. You are famous now." by SUSI HUELSMEYER-SINAY Watch Lewis' dental surgery www.distinctlymontana.com/lewis202 DISTINCTLY MONTANA | DIGITAL Lewis on Christmas Eve with snow and camera crew Lewis dressed for his holiday television appearance

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