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.


Friday, August 23, 2013

Day 2.

Miles: 13
Elevation gain: 890ft
Ending altitude: 8000ft

Awakened by nightmares of bear attacks 3 times in the night, the warming rays of the sun on the highest peak brought smiles of comfort. Strangled bear canisters packed with breakfast tied tightly to the farthest tree in sight with knots of rope ready for a nighttime war over dehydrated chili and oatmeal. 

But all was peaceful upon morning, all except for my German's poop anxiety. Shovel in hand, he anxiously paced the campsite like the dog having been cooped up all day. But with a PhD in backpacking, nothing needed to be explained. 

8:20am, we set off, pushing our daily mileage once again, we walked and walked pass glistening lakes that spoke with the wind. Trees painted the mountains afar by the millions as we descended miles upon miles into vast snaking meadows of lush yellow and pale green. 

It's a lovely trail, speckled with distant hikers traveling here and there. The thought of a store, chatting people, a small civilization, and beer was the only necessity needed to push our planned 9 mile day to 13. Reds meadow was the destination, a small camp where hikers, campers, and travels from all parts of the globe flow to to see its natural beauty. 

And there we were, exhausted, drinking beers at a campsite by 5pm. The ranger warned us of nightly bear visits. Our neighbors, packed into one site with 5 gas guzzling vehicles and enough bacon to feed the family and furry friends makes a good nights sleep still another days walk away.