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.


Thursday, July 5, 2012

Day 17. Drive thrus, light switches, and lily gardens, and electric can openers.

Miles: 66
Weather: as muggy as the vietnam jungle; humid enough to take a shower with air.

Wide open lakes with lily pads so big and round, so perfectly asymmetrical, their flowers jetting skywards. Millions plummeting vertically across the still body of water.

We passed another Amish town and stopped at their local market. Walking into handmade land, it was dark and I searched for a light switch to not be found, duh. Goodies so cheap you'd think we were in another faraway country. Cliff bars at 33 cents, we bought out their entire rack. 4 hours later farther into eastern Ohio we discovered 75 cents soft serve from Dari Hut. I guess it's official, we have hit the Midwest, heartland of America.

Oh Ohio, drivers yelling faggots at us, you did finally bless us with some flat roads we haven't seen since Maine.

Riding with Scott today, I discover he has a set of animal voices up his sleeve, perfectly replicating cows elephants and donkeys. I am also starting to question the concept of drive thrus as well as electric can openers. The things you think about on the road...

Almost 1000 miles in and already almost to middle America. It feels like we are cruising, almost at the other side. This country all becomes that must more feasible, tangible, and that much smaller. It's as though you know your own backyard, how the land is laid, when and where the flowers bloom, where the dog likes to sleep. It's like that, but my backyard is now 1/4 of this country!