For the D’Evelyn/Tingstad family, a trip to the backcountry on Labor Day weekend held promise of hiking in the beautiful Colorado Rockies while enjoying fresh mountain air, camping with friends, and climbing James Peak. Accompanying them were their three dependable pack llamas, including family-favorite, loaded-with-personality Wyatt, helping to carry gear while providing four-legged companionship (and acting as a social magnet when the family crossed paths with other hikers).

But on Monday, Labor Day, the family’s trip took an unexpected turn. Wyatt, who’d been packing for eight years, panicked at a dangerous stream crossing and broke his leg. If the D’Evelyn’s loyal packing companion was to get safely home, some creative and extraordinary measures would have to be taken.

“When Wyatt came out of the stream, we knew immediately that the leg was broken,” said Linda D’Evelyn. “We worked with what we had on hand to improvise a splint, including a llama first-aid kit, tent poles, and foam pads, but it wasn’t adequate for him to bear weight. We didn’t know it then, but the reality was it would take the next four days to get him out of the wilderness.”

Even with the additional support of the splint, Wyatt was only able to carry his weight on his three good legs for short distances. The D’Evelyn/Tingstad’s were able to slowly walk Wyatt back down the trail about one-third mile before stopping for the day. The family, with two small children as well as a friend and his children, had to make a difficult decision – they would need to leave Wyatt overnight to get help. Wyatt was settled in as comfortably as possible off the trail, a sign affixed to his side instructing anyone who found him that his leg was broken and help was on the way.

Once at the trail head, D’Evelyn contacted their veterinarian for advice and considered the limited options available for evacuating Wyatt, particularly concerning the restrictions enforced on transportation in wilderness areas. On Tuesday, D’Evelyn, her husband, Helmut Tingstad, and a friend hiked back up to Wyatt, carrying antibiotics, pain medication and additional medical supplies to help get him safely down the mountain. For the next four days, Linda or Helmut hiked back to Wyatt and tried to walk him out a little further, traveling shorter distances each day as he weakened. By Friday, Wyatt was exhausted and could not go any further. The parking area and Wyatt’s trailer were still nearly two miles away. On Friday night, on the recommendation of a friend, D’Evelyn called the Veterinary Teaching Hospital at Colorado State University.

Dr. Robert Callan was on clinics that weekend when D’Evelyn called, and they worked together to develop a plan to get Wyatt all the way down the trial and to the hospital. On Saturday morning, Dr. Callan and his wife, Cindy, made their way to the East Moffatt Tunnel trailhead and hiked up and met D’Evelyn and three of her friends. They carried additional medical supplies, as well as materials to make a gurney and, if necessary, a cast. Reaching Wyatt, Dr. Callan realized that Wyatt was too exhausted to walk out, even with a cast.

“The splint that they had was stable and in good condition, but Wyatt was just too tired to keep going on three legs,” said Dr. Callan. “We knew we were going to need to carry him out.”

Dr. Callan placed an IV catheter to allow easy sedation and make it easier to carry Wyatt out. Next, after some trial and error, the group constructed a stable gurney using a tarp, slings and fallen logs, and Wyatt was led to lay on the gurney and sedated. The six adults lifted the approximately 350-pound llama, and were able to make 50-foot to 100-foot long carries before they had to set him down to rest their arms. It seemed like an impossible task to take him down the remaining two miles.

But help soon arrived. Another group of hikers on their way down joined in the rescue effort. Before long, two young men hiking up the trial joined the group to get Wyatt down the trial. With 10 people, it took about two-and-one-half hours to take Wyatt the remaining distance (with occasional stops to administer a bit more sedative to keep Wyatt calm and on the gurney).

“I’m sure we were quite the sight, with Wyatt riding like a king on his throne, occasionally leaning over to graze as we walked along the trail,” said D’Evelyn. “I was so thankful to have Dr. Callan there, and all the way down the trail he was explaining treatment options, types of casts, and was very optimistic about Wyatt’s prognosis.”

Safely in his trailer, Wyatt made the trip to the Veterinary Teaching Hospital where he was stabilized with additional pain control and IV fluids, his leg cleaned up and assessed, radiographs taken, and his splint replaced. On Monday, Sept. 13, Dr. Valerie Moorman, emergency critical care clinician, did surgery to fit Wyatt with a pin cast that would stabilize the bone and allow it to heal.

“Wyatt had some bruising, swelling and abrasions, but because he had been started on antibiotics while up on the trail, he did not appear to have any serious infection,” said Dr. Callan. “He came through the surgery really well and was soon comfortably resting in a nicely padded stall. I expect that he will spend the rest of this season healing, and then be able to pack again next year.”

Wyatt is due back for a check-up and cast removal on Nov. 5, but D’Evelyn said he has been recuperating quite well – though a bit grumpy about being confined to a stall – and is definitely ready to have his cast removed.

“Wyatt’s experience at CSU was unbelievable,” said D’Evelyn. “He got so much personal attention, and we were really impressed with his quality of care. That’s what saved Wyatt’s life. It was amazing to have a veterinarian like Dr. Callan and all the wonderful staff members at the hospital, who really went above and beyond the call of duty to care for Wyatt.”

(Update: Radiographs taken at Wyatt’s Nov. 5 checkup showed his progress stable but with little calcification in the healing bone. Two of the three pins in his pin cast were pulled, but the cast will remain in place for another four-to-six weeks. Other than the slow healing, which is not uncommon in older llamas, Dr. Callan reports that everything is going well.)