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 1

Miles:10
Elevation gain: 3200ft 
Altitude:10,000ft

My partner in crime is named Conrad H.  He is 6'4, 185lbs, German born, British bred, and now for the past 7 years a resident of the massive country I call home. As of 9 months ago he officially calls himself doctor of mathematics and as of this past week, to my knowledge also holds a doctorate in backpacking with a whopping 0 hours of experience. The bright side, with all this experience, it wasn't hard to convince him of the weight ratio, my pack coming in at at a lovely 30lbs, his hovering at 50. And so the trek began. 

We crawled up the side of the mountain for a good 2 hours, 5 miles. Questioning my sanity in picking this adventure, what was our bail out plan? 5 miles on a bike takes a mere 15 minutes, but 5 miles up a mountain with a 30lb pack... My coworker told me she cried after 10 miles. I understand why. 

Lunch time it was and if one thing was planned right it was chocolate covered expression beams. Onward we trudged. 

Summiting the mountain was as though we landed on Jupiter if water existed along with a few more cosmic rays. Thousands of crystal blue lakes lay ridden to infinity amongst the slate rock of the peaks. Realizing the probably only 1% of the world population had stood here, smelled the crispest air, touched the bluest glacier water, and felt the wind whip their hats across the summit on a mission, our altitude tired bodies revitalized like a kid given ice cream mid tantrum. 

Onward we pushed our daily mileage to lovely Garnet lake, home for night. 4pm dinner was served full of delicious sugary fig nutons and salami for the boy. Cooking was completely out of question as inflating air mattresses was a large enough task for sore legs, backs, and shoulders. 6pm, tucked in like kids after a a long day at the beach, we decided to pull out the trusty guide book to see what it had to offer. Having laid untouched by our bedside for nearly 9 months, I was content not knowing we would have summited from the eastern side of the sierras to the western side in one single first day. Grandma instincts set in and bedtime was set to 7pm.