In the Republic of Vermont
’89ers Rob and Kate Williams raise yaks, but that’s just a piece of the plan
By Merrell Noden ’78
Published in the June 10, 2009, issue
If you find yourself driving on Route 100, up through the lovely, winding Mad River Valley of central Vermont, slow down just as you pass the village of Waitsfield and pay close attention to the left side of the road. You’re looking for an old white farmhouse, with a big red barn and outbuildings —
the sort of small family farm that once thrived all over the state but now survives, more often than not, as a weekend retreat for wealthy Bostonians or New Yorkers. You’ll know it’s the right place when you spot those big hairy animals clustered out beyond the barn or grazing on the hill behind it. There’s no mistaking yaks: In their long shaggy coats, they look like hippie cows.
This is Steadfast Farm, home of the Vermont Yak Company and “the only working yak herd in New England,” as Rob Williams ’89 likes to put it. Williams and his wife, Kate ’89, are co-owners of Vermont Yak, in partnership with two other local couples. The Williamses first got interested in these hairy beasts a few years ago while in Montana visiting Kate’s brother, who uses yaks to guard the sheep on his ranch. Yaks come from the Himalayas, but there are now some 5,000 in the United States, living almost exclusively in the north because their heavy coats make heat intolerable.
Out in Montana, Kate and Rob tried yak meat; not only did they find it tasty, their children did, too. They had been thinking about raising animals for some time, and now they recalled the old dairy farm, less than a mile from home, that had not been worked for 20 years. An idea to bring the old farm back to life began to take shape.
In the year since Williams and a friend drove out to Minnesota and picked up the 24 yaks that would start the herd — it’s now 32 animals — Rob has become something of an expert on all things yak. The six owners of the Vermont Yak Company divide business responsibilities according to their fields of expertise. Kate, who has an M.B.A., keeps the books and corresponds with other yak owners around the country — yakkers, as they call themselves — while Rob, who teaches media studies at Champlain College in Burlington, handles marketing and public relations, which means, among other things, maintaining an ever-growing repertoire of yak facts and corny yak jokes. Such as: What’s that bovine tune the Rolling Stones do? Jumpin’ Yak Flash. And: Can you pass me that bovine love potion? Oh, you mean the aphrodisi-yak?
And here’s an intriguing yak fact: Yaks do not have upper teeth. To prove this, Rob encourages a visitor to extend his hand to one of the hairy beasts. The yak sucks it eagerly, then pulls away, leaving a trail of silvery slime looped from yak lip to glistening human hand. Yuk.