There comes a point every summer when the motorcycles/worktrucks are parked, the ropes are hung back on their hooks, and another alpaca shearing season comes to an end.

For months our lives are measured in miles and animals shorn. We hope for good weather, and deal with bad, we move from ranch to ranch, and watch the country change through a windshield and a motorcycle helmet. Every morning starts with coffee (or Yerba Mate), sharp blades, and another group of alpacas waiting for us to remove their winter coat…