Double G Alpacas . . . a whole 8 minutes down the road!  Leroy and Paula have only been Harvest Hosts since January . . . but they are a long time award-winning Alpaca ranch with a wall full of ribbons and plaques to prove it.  Well-appointed pens  . . . Mums and youngsters one side . . . males the other.  Miniature horses, goats and a pot bellied pig (neighbours who moved away asked, “can you look after her till we find her a new home?” . . . that was 7 months ago, so looks like she’s found her home).  They also board two horses apart from their own.  And chickens . . . but NO rooster. Leroy (whose daytime job is a computer programmer) works from home 4am – 2pm, then works the ranch.  And then there’s the craft studio.    He and Paula offer spinning, weaving, felting classes and the place is filled with hand-crafted items – theirs and other artisans.  He spent well over an hour showing us the animals and demonstrating how the wool was cleaned, carded and spun . . . old-fashioned 9,000 year old spindles to current.  Fabulous and REALLY interesting . . . of course he made it look easy, but you know it wasn’t!

We have the run of the place . . . can go and visit the animals whenever we wish . .  play a funny little mini golf . . . go for walks along the trails.  Walking back to the trailer we spied a shiny black beetle doing what looked like a handstand, with its head almost touching the ground.  Didn’t move while we crouched down to take a picture.  It had turned cloudy, and I wondered if it was expecting some moisture to appear.  Rather like beetles in desert areas of Peru (?) whose only source of moisture is from dew which collects and funnels down to their mouths.  Hmm, something to check on.  Well, I was completely wrong . . . these are Pinacaste beetles, and this is their method of protection   https://blog.growingwithscience.com/2010/11/bug-of-the-week-desert-headstanding-beetles/  We were lucky to avoid getting sprayed!!

After a buffeting wind all afternoon . . . the whole sky was aflame tonight.

Plans for leaving in the morning were put on hold . .  . the wind began picking up around 7:30 am and by 8:30 gusts were shaking and buffeting the trailer alarmingly.  Predictions were for over 32 knots – approaching 40 mph — definitely not safe pulling a caravan in that.  Stabilizing legs were re-positioned using heavy-duty plastic pads . . . the sandy soil was just not firm enough.  Better, but winds continued to increase.  Sand whipped into eyes and mouths . . . the family of quail scratching for food around the truck looked like wind-blown feather dusters, until something spooked them and they vanished over the logs, whooping and burbling indignantly. Visited the alpacas again.  The guard dogs Sherman and Bradley  . . .  yes they truly were the size of tanks . . .  especially when they trod on your foot, or leaned in for a tummy rub . . . were complete softies during the day.  At night was a different matter as they patrolled for coyotes, bobcats and other unwanted visitors.

Each of the alpacas is so different.  Some are curious and would peer anxiously into your face, sniffing tentatively, others kept a respectful distance staring at you with enormous eyes, jaws moving constantly.  Young males play fought while older males looked on . . . indulgently or indignantly.  My favourite animal though, was Sophia the pig.  Her pen was closest to the gate, and as soon as she heard voices she’d rush out of her piggy house to greet you.  Rotund and bristly, she’d love to be scratched behind the ears or along her back . .  . grunting blissfully, until you stopped.  Then a moist, muddy nose would be thrust through the fence demanding more.

Met another Canadian – Michel from Montreal.  He and his wife had spent 6 months traveling from Quebec to BC, intending to explore Tofino and west coast of the island.  They arrived just in time for the disastrous floods in November, so changed direction and went south instead.  Although his wife had to return home to deal with family matters, Michel carried on and encountered the Alpaca ranch.  Being a handy sort, he stopped to help Leroy with electrical wiring, construction, helping with the animals.

In the afternoon we had a quick look around town, replenished supplies, and hurried back – relieved to see our trailer still upright.  We lashed everything possible and sat tight – hanging on when extra strong gusts hit.  By sundown things had eased . . . so we helped Leroy and Michel water and feed the animals for the night.  Felt good to muck in rather than just observe.  Clothes needed a good bashing to remove accumulated dust before entering the trailer.

Completely clear and calm overnight . . . and COLD.  There was frost on the truck in the morning!  Brrr. Time to leave the high desert.

Smoke had dissipated to a slight haze by our return, and with cooler temps the goats were much more inquisitive . . .  their guardians welcomed us like old friends. One large goat with a luxuriant fleece and curls to rival Harpo Marx, was particularly friendly . . . pressing up against the fence for a nose scratch while peeking coyly through its locks with pale golden eyes.  There was a baby, several medium-sized ones . .  . two stand-offish ones who stared, side -by-side, from a safe distance (they turned out to be Navaho sheep, and resembled characters from Shaun the Sheep) There was also a magnificent two-tone male (Gus) with long hair and an impressive swirl of horns who hurrumphed in our direction.  We arranged to meet with the rabbits in the morning.

Lovely temperature for sitting … tea in hand … watching the sun set over the mountains to the west.  4am . . . Rooster crow . . . very Disney-esque.  Right … job done . . . back to bed.  Nope.  Every 10 minutes . . . then every 5.  For Pete’s sake, dawn’s not for another couple of hours.  Rammed the earplugs in more firmly.  Saw the culprit in the morning . . . there’s just him and his lady friend.  I can see a handy stew pot in his immediate future.

Jason gave an excellent tour of the rabbits – they have over 80 English, French and Satin Angoras with soft, soft, long wool, plus some beautifully patterned black and white Mini Rex with fur like velvet.  Jason had been a marine and state trooper (where he and Julie met) then went on to work for the FDA inspecting imported produce before retiring into the private sector working for U-Haul.

This is a new business, but they are already well set up and have plans for paddocks, an onsite store and hope to introduce some of the distinctive cottonwoods onto their 4 acre site, for shade.  Apparently Premium crackers are the treat of choice for both goats and sheep, they were climbing over each other (and the fence) in order to get their share.  Even the dogs joined in – despite having finished off their own meaty treats.

Watching the winds again . . . there’s a red flag warning for the Tucson area Friday to Sunday – probably has something to do with a big cold front sliding south.  Probably wise to hunker down in this area for a few days to let it blow over.

Took the back road to Sierra Vista . . . although several fires in the valley obscured much of the ‘Vista’ with smoke.  Not much air movement so air quality can’t be great . . . and at the moment we appear to be heading straight for it!  At the last minute the road veered away, but we could still see the thick smoke after arriving at Tangled Yarns farm . . .  where they raise Angora rabbits and goats.  Owner Julie had suggested we park the trailer and explore the quaint town of Bisbee as it’s not a place well suited to RVs.  No-one was home when we arrived so we briefly introduced ourselves to the goats and their two guard dogs (they look like Pyrenean Mountain dogs – we’ll have to ask), before heading off.

Climbed steadily to 5000ft . .  . there are actual green TREES . . .  lovely to see again.  Clumpy Yuccas tucked into the cracks and crevices, and loomed over by towering rosy-gold crags.

Rounding a curve, there in the valley below lay Bisbee . . . houses of every conceivable size, colour and design, built into and onto every available dip and hillside. Quite crazy and absolutely wonderful.  Streets leading off at every angle – up, mostly.  Reminded me so much of the town of Gibraltar.  And here, mask-wearing was a requirement (yes!).  Strolled past the tiny Brewery (but it was much too early to sample) . . . the imposing courthouse with signs banning guns/knives in both English and Spanish . . .  impressive church with ingenious method of window washing . .  a stop for coffee and pastries at the Bisbee Coffee Shop . . . along Main Street and the mining museum with it’s carts and engines on display outside.  One in particular caught our eye . . .  a two-holer sanitation cart . . .  but look what’s immediately next to it – an explosives cart!  What kind of diet did they have?  Copper was a big thing here . . .  the hillsides are the most incredible orange/red so probably iron as well.  The street musicians were top notch.

But it’s the houses that really make this town stand out  .  . quite literally.  Combinations of cerise and sky blue . . . yellow and lilac . . .  turquoise so vivid it hurts the eyes.  One house must have had a dozen leftover pots of paint because every window frame, eave, wall and downspout was a different colour.  But then the locals got really creative.  Walls made of rusty spades . . . birdhouse sky scrapers . . . gargoyles . .  . one handrail leading down a steep stone staircase ended in an outstretched talon . . . another house was plastered with what appeared to be pilfered signs – from roadways and old businesses . . . but our favourite had to have been created by a plumber – every fence and gate was constructed with pipes,  plumbing fixtures, elbows, taps and valves.  All delightfully bonkers.  This has to be my favourite place yet.