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.


Monday, July 28, 2014

Day 15. Montana, one inch in.

Miles: 95
Elevation: a downhill ruined by headwinds and then another freaking mountain 20 miles up. 
Elevation max: 8000ish ft
Temperature: 95 and cloudy and humid 

It's a crazy thought, people plopped in a town, one road in and one road out, unaware of their world beyond a 10 mile radius. They live in a happy, isolated bubble. Trying to understand their world is still too unfathomable. To have never seen or touched the world, and yet they cluelessly vote for presidents. Producing little raskles at young ages, they are born and die in the same house, same town, like caged bunnies. They rarely eat fresh avocados and will never know an affogato. We are strange, alien forms to them. They like us, but living completely opposite lives, we chat in awe of each other. 

Somedays are just inexcusably hard. Mile 3 hit and exhaustion was an understatement. We were caffeinated, chocolate powdered up and on the road by a record setting time of 6:50am, but nap time came before schools started. It took 45 miles to warm up, and after passing through a magnificent gorge along a silky river, two coffees, and the breathtaking shade of a parasol sky, nothing could jolt a tired brain awake. Nothing but a sign falling straight out of the blueness above. Ralph can vouch, it came out of nowhere. Bright orange and squared, plastered with the words "Road Work Ahead". It took the skin right off my left shoulder down to red flesh, and suddenly adrenaline became a fabulous catalyst to stay awake. 

Two goals today: simple and sweet. Pedal and huckleberry milkshakes. These berries grow like wildflowers in secret hideouts. A magical mystery fruit, the kind in classic fables. Imagining tales of talking bears living in tree houses spending summer afternoons frolicking on hillsides with baskets full of blue dots, I yearned to try this new fruit. But by the time we made it to milkshakes, the local bakery reeled our noses right down Main Street. The gluten house ranked top 5 on my list, and like any solid Italian would know, bread is the hearth of life, the body of Christ. Odd Fellows' Bakery clearly saw our carbo needs, handing us a baguette on the house, it miraculously disappeared before the posse left town. Salmon, Idaho, quite the talkative town of fun, curious, heartwarming people. Our stench, overloaded bikes, the click of special shoes as we pace sidewalks for coffee houses draws attention like a sore thumb. So we get lots of questions and the farther we get, the more interesting the reactions. Today finally felt like the backyard fence had been hopped and wilderness trails were awaiting with oversized dandelions. People are eager to hear our story, and firefights generously hand over clif bars like it's Halloween. 

After quite the obnoxious morning, Montana surreally appeared at dusk. That mystery state on the map, we had made it and snored only an inch over the border. Some days are easier than others, but like life pride, joy, excitment, rewards, calmness, content, and quietness rarely come without hard work. Brains screaming to stop many times, 14 hours later, the moment knowing defeat didn't win, makes it all worth doing the next day. It just happens, get up and go, work hard, and be rewarded. 

O'Reilly officially has intestinal parasites with his daily caloric intake and weight loss:  
7 bagels
2 cliff bars 
Coffee (4 cups)
Sugar GU packet
Bowl of rice
3 plums
Handful of grapes
1 banana
5 cheese sticks
1 large chocolate milkshake
2 roast beef sandwiches 
1 beer
2 shots whiskey 
1 big peanut butter cookie

Mosquitos stalk us worse than a bad nightmare. They love the elbows, and already eaten to the bone, shields are still needed. They buzz like swarms around the nylon home, and we laugh in safety, wondering if they ever sleep. Dreaming of the sleep bag and tent all day, the sun lives a long life up in these mountains. Dusk keeps the sky awake until 10:30pm and pitched on the deck of a ski resort snooze came before the sun even fell over the ridge completely. 




Field notes: 93N is a busy and gorgeous road but it does have a small/medium shoulder. Salmon is a decent size town, population 3000.  Odd Fellows' Bakery is a must. There is also a bike shop in town with weird hours. Rest stop after the 20 mile climb on the Montana border has nice bathrooms and plenty of water.