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, September 6, 2013

Day 13.

Miles: 15
Elevation gain: 3500ft
Elevation loss: 3400ft
Altitude: 11,940ft at Glen Pass

The sounds of rain falling and birds chirping was rudely interrupted by my pal going on and on in a furry about how there must be a German company that makes higher quality backpacking products. Rain soaked shoes, pants, socks, had gotten to him, but agreed it was well worth the mountain summited. 

It is one of those stories, the ranger advised we camp below and after a short nap under a rain free rock, the urge to push on insisted that we must go. Thunder rattled the mountain and echoed deeply through valleys, but the teeny tiny patch of blue called our name. Passing pro hikers who had seen the top, geared with German branded hiking poles, we were encouraged to the summit. But fear not, the doctor on board equip with the same gear knew best, for he had summited many Swiss Alps within storms that scatter electricity like pinball machines throughout rocky cliffs. Tree lines dwindled and shelter was slipping away. Angles were bowling their championship league and there we were standing 11,940ft at the highest point of the mountain. No M&Ms for this summit, we quickly crawled our way down through the storm. Drenched in the cleanest water possible, and then pelted by hail, the master couldn't take it anymore, and a fit he threw. Did we dare test the powers of nature. For our soothing homes we sleep and cook in, laugh and shug off socities shames, we never have to face natures fierceness first hand. These mountains are beautiful, but come with a price tag and remind us daily that in this neck of the woods, we are the guest not the owners. 

Grandmas homemade black bean stew will cure any soaked boys problems and a swig of whiskey warms the tent full of dampness. 

3 days left, it is as though we can taste the finish already.