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.


Sunday, August 10, 2014

Day 27. Mischief in Sunnyside Washington.

Miles: 78
Elevation gain: let's just call it one big mountain
Temperature: high 104

Sorry but Ralph is currently on time out. We returned to our kingdom of a motel room after an emergency Safeway fried chicken run for O'Reilly. From the window, Ralph was doing jumping jacks on the mattress, carrot bits scattered the floor and that reindeer was blasting the AC at 32 degrees. We pulled out every layer as we walked through the palace gates. Wrapped in down jackets, it was over 100 dregees outside. Our sleeping bags are rated to 30 degrees Fahrenheit, so 32 was apparently a fair compromise for Ralph. Then we compromised; no blog today, but he was allowed to sleep in the freezer of our motel room for the rest of the night. 

That reindeer just had to have the last word. "They left me all alone in the red carpet floral print bedspread motel room with a huge mattress. The carrots, they has like twenty of them, and it is 104 degrees outside. I'm from the North Pole," spilled from his mouth, just as the freezer door shut. 

Things started to piece together. You see, my golden furry eighty pound four legged son back in Oakland is not so fond of Ralph. I never quite understood why. Assuming when I left my apartment for the day, they both slepted like dogs. But the whole truth came out tonight in hopes that honesty could rebuy his writing privledges. My poor eleven year old dog has to deal with Ralph doing gymnastics on the springy bed all day. Aparently he is pretty good, having practiced for nineteen years, but is always arguing with the dog to join.  "Ralph, Rusty is eleven, in your years that's seventy-seven." He was very confused. 

So sorry to disappoint, Ralph will be writing soon don't worry. The day was hot and If only we had known that the magic to relinquish all woes was in the massive sandwich chain of Subway. After a full four feet of veggie delight and turkey mustard bread, we flew up and over mountains. On a high speed roller coaster we passed the worlds supply of apples in the middle of a desert. The ending days shower beat the invention of Sriracha. The cool clean soapy water is now just one notch under the invention of electricity. Checking on Ralph before we pass out, he is out cold in his natural habitat, a huge smile wiped across this face. 

Over the mountain:

We found Washington apples, and their shipping crates.:

80miles, 104degrees, and one beer later:

It all makes sense now. 

Field notes: hwy 241 to Beverly is amazing. No cars. 24 has an ok shoulder but lots of cars. We took the 243, then hopped back on the 24 to the 241 which again was spectacular with few cars. Very limited stops from George to Sunnyside.