King of the Road - June 2010
Farm Team
Scout homegrown fiber arts and animals in Edgewood
Story and Photography by Lesley S. King
On a cool summer morning, my mother and I head for the broad plains east of Albuquerque to see an unusual mix of animals—alpacas, angoras, and camels, oh my!—on the annual East Mountain Fiber Farm and Studio Tour. I’m not sure what to expect, but as we start our trip around the little farms surrounding the town of Edgewood, off I-40, about 20 miles east of Albuquerque, I’m surprised at the breadth of fiber farming here, and the imaginative treasures it yields.
At Milagro Moon Ranch we meet Jim and Cynthia Daly, who, against the backdrop of the 8,750-foot San Pedro Mountains, raise 17 alpacas. The sweet-natured animals have eyes as wide as E.T.’s, and emit an odd hum from their lips. They provide just what the Dalys needed in farm animals: “We wanted ones that you could get the product from without ending their lives,” says Jim.
IF YOU GO What to do: Where to dine: Katrinah’s East Mountain Grill Where to stay:
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Each spring, the Dalys shear the alpacas, send the soft fiber to a mill for cleaning and carding, and then, when it’s sent back, spin it into yarn. In 2008, Cynthia was named Grand Champion in the Novice category at the state’s renowned Taos Wool Festival. The Dalys sell the yarn, in shades ranging from white to tan to black, as well as items made from it, including scarves, dolls, and felted wall hangings. I examine these, so mesmerized by their beauty I’m unable to make a choice.
En route to our next farm—10 participate in the tour, and there are even more in the area—we stop at a little mall in Edgewood to meet one of the founders of today’s event. Bethe Orrell, owner of the town’s Good Fibrations, explains the tour’s origins: “A group of locals wanted to remind people that this is a rural area,” she says. Indeed, in the center of town, with its Super Walmart and busy streets, one could forget Edgewood’s mostly residential and pastoral origins. But outside and surrounding the city center, 2,000 residents are spread across miles of broad, grassy meadows studded with piñon and juniper, and backed by blue mountains.
“It’s a good climate for fiber animals,” says Orrell, which helps explain why so many farms here raise alpacas, llamas, sheep, and rabbits. “In summer it stays fairly cool because of the elevation, and yet it’s mild in winter.”
Next, Mom and I head to Starlight Acres Fiber Farm, where owner Carol Grimm holds a fluffy rabbit in her lap; behind her, nine more sit in cages. I reach to pet the quiet English angora, with floppy ears and long, feather-light fur. “It’s probably the softest fiber in the world,” says Grimm. “It’s also very warm.” Usually, Grimm combs the angora from the rabbits during their shedding season, then spins it. But today, as a special treat for the kids, she spins yarn straight from a rabbit named Puffin, who seems not to mind at all. “It doesn’t hurt him,” she says.
Grimm knits pearly-white, slate, and chocolate-colored scarves and hats. Often, she combines the angora fiber with wool from alpacas, which she also raises. From that yarn she makes graceful jackets and shawls. I wrap scarves around my neck, pull on hats and jackets—I want all of them—but, in the end, unable to choose, I leave empty-handed.
The next farm, set off from a dirt road in open country, seems a bit of an anomaly at a fiber festival—until we see the product. At the Gallina del Sol Farm, between Edgewood and Stanley, Wendy McGuire and Barbara Mann raise heritage breeds of turkeys, exotic pheasants, peacocks, and many other birds. They use the feathers to make fans, pendants, earrings, and hanging decorations they call silent windchimes.
The farm is stunning. Among 700 varieties of iris, birds with scarlet, emerald, onyx, and spotted plumage chirp and gobble in cages. “We use all kinds of feathers,” says Wendy. “Sometimes I can tell you the name of the bird the feathers came from just by the color.” I practice my Victorian blush behind a pheasant-feather fan, then hold peacock-eye earrings below my earlobes, asking myself This one? That one? Finally, once again unable to choose, I find my mother and we head out on the road.
Our drive to the last farm on the tour takes us to Camel-lot Ranch, among ponderosa pines. Next to a tall barn we meet Beverly Neville, a petite woman who, with her husband, Bill, raises giant animals: dromedary camels. Since 1985, the Nevilles have run the camel-ride concession at Albuquerque’s Río Grande Zoo. “We like educating people about animals, and find the zoo offers that opportunity,” says Beverly.
Here at the farm, the Nevilles keep the retired ride camels, which can live 40 years. Each spring, they “curry them out” to remove the shed wool, which they have cleaned and carded, and some of it spun into yarn. The fiber is lush, with a rich caramel color that needs no dying. As well as selling the wool, the Nevilles sell magnets, wreaths, and Christmas ornaments of felted camel hair, all very fun and well worth purchasing—if only one can . . . just . . . decide.
In a corner of the little shed that is the Nevilles’ shop, Mom and I find yet another treasure—camel dung, known to be an excellent fertilizer. I lay my hand on a bag and my heart beats fast. Yes, I’m making this decision now. I buy the manure to spread on my garden. I admit, it’s not the biggest or prettiest prize of this day. Surely, the soft yarn and elegant knitted and woven clothing—and, most of all, the understanding of these amazing animals—outshines my little purchase. But for a shopping-challenged person like me, it’s a start.
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"King of the Road" columnist Lesley S. King visits another little-known community in New Mexico each month.
Discover more road trips along New Mexico's backroads and byways.
