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, June 29, 2012

Day 11. Sleep sleep drink water and sleep

52 miles for the rider
Me: captain of beige buggy hauling lunch down the hwy.
Weather: freaking hot. Heat Wave #2. 95 degrees.

Pissssssssssst. The sound of the air rushes out of the air mat and you hit the ground with a wake up call. The problem with waking up at 5:30am to beat the heat is lunch stop is at 9am. We are averaging 5 meals a day right now. I am not a fan of the van or driving. You'd think it'd be a nice day off treating myself to sparkling water from far away lands, driving down the roads in the nice temperate weather of 65 degree AC, munching on animal crackers all day, and having a personal pop concert in buggy with myself.

Coasting with buggy into Berwick i saw more churches than i could count on 2 hands. Greeted by Margret, a lady in her 70s, draped in her apron, at noon was spending her whole day in the kitchen for us. She talked walked smelled hugged and cooked like my grandma. As the riders poured in drenched in salty sweat she fed us a never ending bowl of oranges that kept magically refilling itself as though the orchard was out back. It is theses type of people that talk your ear off and you don't want it to end. Stories of the 1890s when mothers had 15 children and kids died of sunstroke.

This hard day required a 3 hour nap on my part which could have lasted till 5am tomorrow.