Today my friend Ken and I ventured out into the rolling greenery of Kinnelon, Mountain Lakes, Denville, Montville, Towaco, Rockaway, and Alpaca-land. Who would have known, except K-Hova (Ken), that there would be an Alpaca Harvesting Farm on the country-road corner of some rural-Jersey village? The fence was wood painted white, and as we approached a flock of chocolate, vanilla, and cinnamon hued creatures eagerly made their way over to us with their elongated necks and freshly shaved torsos. With their Ostrich-like compositions, massive eyes, and fur-laden bodies, I felt as though Chewbaca and Han Solo would be around the next corner. The opportunists we are, we took some tourist shots, chatted it up with the chain-donning crew (they each had plastic bling chains around their necks with name tags, Katie and Tiffany were the most sociable), and then parted ways.
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