Intro

Welcome to a story, or stories I should say. A compilation of adventure tales. An ongoing itch to see, smell, and touch the world, or at least the deserted roads and rarely trampled mountains of America. Characters within the descriptive paragraphs of these stories carve out the coming and going companions in life; vital life people and pieces that parallel a universe for moments, days, years. And then spear off, leaving granules of magnificent memories of magical places. They leave a lasting trace, a gained sense of courage to stand tall on oxygen deprived mountains and shout absurdities like: I love you Ralph! Ralph is a teenage reindeer stuffed of the finest synthetic polyester fiber poof; he says made in Indonesia but really tells me he is from the North Pole. Delivered through a chimney one December night 20 years ago, we instantly became cuddle buddies upon that morning's sunrise. He is the instigator. The inspiration. And the imagination. He breathes creativity. Laughter. His is a dear companion. And yes, at 4lbs he tags along atop a pack or strapped to a rack. In delirium of 107 degree heat, the small possession of material belongings gain a persona. Innate objects become friends of the road and trails. And as for the humans who accompany, their presence reads priceless. Without O'Reilly, a 29 year old New Hampshirian with superior taste buds, the mathematical six foot four inch tall German, or handful of organic peanut butter and 99 cent jam eating munchkins, there would be a lot less excitement. The encounters we make with our specie, encapsulating the world with their awkward ways and over consumerist love, somehow we have managed to become overly adored creatures. Their generous hearts restore a faith that goodness prevails in the upheaval of a sometimes lost humanity. As for myself, I'm just the navigator, paddling up the stream of life munching on Clif Bars, with an iPhone documenting the frailties and goodies underneath all the simplified complexities in the world we reside. So again, I welcome you to get lost and dream a little through this typed text and your imagination. My name is Kristen Gentilucci. I live in Berkeley California and I love dogs.


Thursday, August 16, 2012

Day 58. The grandest

Day off # 3 grand canyon

Miles: 12 hiking to plateau point 3000 feet into the canyon.
Weather: 95 at peak, 120 degrees at bottom

There aren't many things that bring me to tears, and I've even been to this fine canyon land before. It could have been the dehydrated excitement that brought tears of lemon lime gatorade to my eyes. 95 degrees and chills, goosebumps ran down my sun loved arms. Expansive greatness, as if the world had a gaping wound miles deep, the word grand puts it to shame. Suddenly as if our timely existence, worldly desires, are glanced at through the wider and wiser beyond human glasses of life.

So far I think I have met 80% French, 10% Germans and 10% Americans here. We are the campsite with a pile of guitars, chamois hanging from trees and 7 tents. I have never seen so many early 20 year olds so willingly eager to rise to a 4:30 alarm clock on their day off. But that was the consensus to see the sunrise.

Did I ever mention we were a bit crazy? Of course after seeing the sunrise, we need to explore the canyon on a epic hike. Some of the more sane folks hiked a nice 3 miles and then hit the cafes for brunch. Others, unarmed with neither first aid kits or maps decided despite warnings to hike the whole canyon in one day, a 16 mile 5000 ft elevation gain. There was no doubt we could do it, but it was a feat. The rest of us, including myself, decided to transverse the canyon to a pleasant plateau that had breathtaking views along with breathtaking cliffs.

Walking right up to the edge it was as though dinosaurs lived down there. The river a dirty paintbrush brown, or as Collin put it, Chocolate milk flavor.