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, July 4, 2012

Day 16. Mericadonalds

Miles 82
Me: pilot of Beige Buggy navigating solo gravel roads through thunderstorms bumping Christian country music.
Weather: as humid as a warm washcloth 102 degrees

Did I say I hate the van yet? I have a class C drivers license not a semi truck driving background. Beige buggy is a 15 foot van towing a 10 ft decorated trailer with no brakes or break lights. He doesn't like sharp turns, steep hills, or one way in no way out roads.

The plan: breakfast in P.A. Lunch in West Virginia, and dinner in Ohio.

After sending our team off into the streets if Pittsburgh i headed to pick up 50 bananas, 30 apples, and 10 oranges. That is always a classic picture at the check out stand. Then off to seek out the perfect lunch nook.

I only know that from getting lost 3 times and driving buggy up a massive gravel seemingly tiny 5 ft wide road that the riders were in for another ruff day. Blasting Christian Country music, I like to drive through states with their radio theme songs, suddenly interrupted with my sing along by a "severe weather warning". Yup hail, rain, lightening. I can already see the flashes in the distance. The rains started and cooled the pavement like steam rising from a boiling tea pot.

The riders all made it safe and sound, beaten and hungry, they burst through the church doors as late as 8pm like scavengers on a mission for showers and AC. It's the 4th of July so of course, we make tacos and head to McDonalds for the most American thing we can get. French fries and ice cream.

Our true tan lines are starting to really make us proud. Ring tans, sock tans, helmet strap tans, sunglasses tans, they are our badges.

We are in the town of Cadiz, a tiny town of 3000 people. An almost ghost town, there stands a McDonalds a gas station a hardware store and a Chinese take out hut. No fireworks here. Once a town for steel miners it is now, like so many towns we pass through, poor, historic yet ghostly, and an isolated sad abandoned center of a once booming industry.