 "Photo: Vanessa Skocz")
 "Photo: Vanessa Skocz")
At 6:30 every morning, Jimmy and Nancy Stepp make waffles for their 3-year-old daughter Sarah, before heading out to tend their alpaca flock.
The herd of 70 alpacas and a sole llama takes up 15 of the Stepp's 70 acres, which the Stepps call Rolling Thunder Farms. The farm, at 10700 SW 40th St., is a 10-minute drive south of downtown Lincoln on a dirt road just off the Homestead Expressway.
The alpaca fields are behind a large light gray barn with a hunter green roof. The male and female alpacas are kept in separate pens, and the animals going through the breeding process are in a third pen farther away. Sabrina, the only llama on the farm, serves as a guardian for the females. Her bigger size intimidates small predators, Nancy said. The barn and the pens around it are where the mothers and newborns, called cria, are kept.
The Stepps are alpaca ranchers, making them unconventional livestock breeders in a world - and certainly a state - of hogs, cattle, chickens and even ostrich. Still, they say alpaca ranching is a growing trend in the United States.
"In California, we always tried to have a more country life," said Nancy Stepp. "We were always trying to see what we could do to be more rural. One day, we saw an ad for alpacas."
A year after seeing the ad, the Stepps' little farm consisted of 25 alpacas on a small acreage.
Alpacas are native of South America, and their importation into the United States began in 1984. In the southern hemisphere, they live in the mountains. They look a lot like llamas, but they're smaller and fluffier or shaggier, depending on the breed. The two breeds are shaggy Suri and fluffy Huacaya (pronounced 'wah-KAI-ya).
They have giraffe-like necks extending from their horse-like bodies, and their fur comes in an array of natural colors, ranging from white to tan to silver to black. The fiber is prized among knitting circles.
The alpacas at Rolling Thunder Farms seem perfectly content surrounded by the tall Nebraska grass on flatland and small rolling hills. The Stepps moved to Nebraska three years ago, and they and their alpacas have been happy since.
"Jimmy will tell you it was for the Huskers," Nancy said. She said it was more like closing her eyes and pointing at a map of the United States.
"I had a list of what I wanted (in a town)," she said. "I had a friend in California who was from Lincoln and said Lincoln would be the perfect place for us."
Their new home has proven to be a good fit for the Stepps and their farm. The alpacas are low-maintenance, and the entire herd feeds on one bale of hay, which the Stepps grow in pastures around the alpaca pens. The hardy animals rarely get sick.
The animals have soft pads on their feet, like a dog's, so they don't trample the ground, and when they kick, they leave bruises instead of broken bones.
"Our daughter is three years old, and look - she's very safe. Alpacas are very docile around children. (Sarah) loves them. She goes around and talks to them," Nancy said as she watched her daughter totter around one of the alpaca pastures.
The alpacas are curious herd animals who congregate together. Sometimes one makes a noise. Sometimes one prances away.
"Herd animals aren't thrilled to hang out with two-leggers," Nancy said. "They're kind of like cats. They'll hang out with you on their terms."
The alpacas have silly and fun names, opportunities in which Jimmy and Nancy revel.
"We have a girl named Glitter who gave birth to a daughter we named Shimmer and a boy on Halloween we named Shining," Jimmy said.
"Sometimes, the name comes right out at you. That one," he said pointing to a snow-white newborn. "He will probably win championships, so we named him Bo."
As in Pelini.
In the winter, the Stepps stay inside and watch the alpacas play in the snow.
"We stay inside and drink hot chocolate. They're warmer than we are," Jimmy said. "When the snow is falling, they don't know what to do. Some will be rolling in it. Some just (sit) in it," he said.
The Stepps predict the alpacas will become a livestock industry standard, and they don't slaughter the animals for production. They don't have to - Jimmy said his investment doubles every year because of government tax advantages.
"We've had a huge increase in (registered alpacas in) the last 10 years," said Darby Vannier, executive director of the Alpaca Registry, headquartered in Lincoln. More than 15,000 people are members of the registry, which does genetic testing on alpacas waiting to be registered.
"It's like the AKC (American Kennel Club) for dogs, but for alpacas. We do the same types of things," he said.
He said he's excited for the growth of interest and industry he's seen.
"We had a significant number of people in the early part of the decade who were wanting to make a change and get out of the corporate life," he said. "We also had significant growth after 9/11. A lot of people wanted to get out of the corporate life."
And while he can't attribute the growth in the alpaca industry to the terrorist attacks, he said it's one of the things that people talk about.
For the Stepps, managing an alpaca farm gives them valuable family time. They clean the alpaca pastures several times a day and bale hay for the rest of it.
"The cool thing about this job is we get to stay at home and play with the kid," Jimmy said.
They host open house days to raise public awareness and promote a love of alpacas. The first open house was last Saturday, and the rest will be posted on the Stepps' Web site, www.rollingthunderfarms.com. Last year, about 150 people visited the farm. The Stepps encourage anyone who's curious to call and visit or attend an open house.
"A lot of people haven't heard of an alpaca still," Nancy said. "So come see. Bring people."
kiahhaslett@dailynebraskan.com
