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.


Monday, July 14, 2014

Groveland CA

Summer. San Francisco has left me pondering the bubble delusion of this city. Foggy bone chilling summer nights wrapped in down comforters sipping warm tea was the norm of my hometown. But just over the hill summer seeped under shirtless skin and sucked the last bits of winter moisture from any living creature. 

In exchange for a bike touring dinner of canned veggies masarated in tubular shaped pasta and neon powdered cheese, we hitched a ride with a famous New Mexicani born chef, Alia Persons, to the base of Yosmeite. The thought of dodging cars for days through suburban city chaos was not appealing. And an air conditioned ride out of mayhem was well worth the transition to 106 degrees tree heaven. 

Groveland CA, on the skirts of Yosmeite national park, I forgot summer consisted of a heat so intense sweat drips at a standstill. Down a narley dirt road of unwanted grades, we hit camp in 4 wheels at the base of a burned forest. Mica glittered the river like a birthday party. Vibrant green foliage popped the burnt black tree twigs like a mint chocolate chip candy bar wrapped in a fancy label with a golden ticket inside. 

Minor details reminded us we were about to be headed to nomans land. Our campsite lacked water, for miles upon miles, and we were left to boil multiple pots for hydration. The river cooled lightweight aluminum filled with our handcrafted deliciousness of stone-rubbed mineral Pellegrino. The moon pierced through tired eyes as if a spotlight has chased us down. Reality kicked in, whatever we were about to embark on, I don't really know what to expect, except to go with the flow of life.