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.


Tuesday, July 10, 2012

Day 22. We roll into Indiana

Miles: 106
Me: buggy pilot
Weather: 85 degrees nice and warm

There is never much excitement that comes with driving the van. I watched dying draught stricken corn fields go by for 100 miles and riders chop down 4 full bagels smeared high with cream cheese at lunch stops in one sitting.

It is either feast or famine here. Today we are loaded with enough to feed the entire line up rider for the tour de France. I would estimate over 150 bananas, ripe and ready, along with enough ham that one could piece together a hog and enough cream cheese to swim in.

I didn't want a day off driving lunch around the states of Ohio and Indiana. Driving days aren't so much a day off as much as a logistical headache. Sometimes it isn't all the fun being a leader and having to follow all the rules you set. Once again, the van is my one dislike of this summer even when it treats me to pop music and AC, I'd still rather be on the barren roads.

Rushville Indiana is where we pulled into. A quite Midwest town with a deserted western vibe. They say 6000 people inhabit this neck of the woods, but where are they I could only wonder. Our host was too ecstatic to meet and great us, so I was forced to pump up my saddened van day mood. They stuff us full of gatorades and cookies upon arrive and a magnificent potluck feast from the local community. Alumni say Rushville is the day of feast and fantastic people. They are quite right. We heard the words of bacon and pancakes for breakfast. G