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.


Wednesday, June 27, 2012

Day 9. Port Jervis the weird town

Formally a relevant commuter town, Port Jervis is now a hopeless relic I wish to never return. We have been traveling through a Plethora of weird towns stuck in time, deserted with stragglers, filled with an erie smell.

Total Miles today were 63.
Weather sunny, 90 degrees, a headwind that would knock you off 2 wheels, and a zoo of road kill which included snapping turtles, skunks, deer, possums, squirrels, and a pigeon.

A day full of fun. Wednesday "merica" we now call it. Covering ourselves in 97 cent American patriotism of temporary tattoos. Free ice cream, a horrible headwind, a fabulous host named Frances, at 76 years old grey headed grandma, who solely cooked as all a baked pasta lasagna dinner and brownies with ice cream.

At 10pm 3 of the fearless leaders made there way to "Dad's Change of Pace" where happy hour lasts till 11pm, a man dropped his pants at the bar, and a wasted drag queen demanded to smoke. And The McDonalds is apparently the most hopping place in town at 11:30pm. This town is freaking weird.

Huddled inside our safe zone of the church we decided to prank all the exhausted sound asleep riders. 28 flat front tires for the morning!