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.


Friday, July 13, 2012

Day 26. No where to no where with lots of friendly honks

Miles 61
Weather 95 and rain

For the first time in my life I biked 60 miles in a straight line. Cue sheet today held the list of 3 lines, left out of church, left on hwy 50 (for 61 miles) right onto Washington street. Salem Illinois, where the bar told us we all had fake ids and wouldn't serve us alcohol and despite the fact it was 95 degrees outside we were huddled in the freeze box of beautiful Graces Methodist Church in all our layers of fleece and long pants due to the thermoset set at 60 degrees.

It's rained and rained this morning drenching our jerseys cell phones cliff bars and chamois. The rain is peaceful, the chatter of riders dwindles and we all just ride, and stop for hot cocoa.

I couldn't tell you a thing about what is going on in the world, but after spending 15 minutes on the side of the road changing a flat while being conversed by a friendly farmer and his wife, I can update you on the entire draught story of the Midwestern farmers. After 48 days with no rain, the cornfields of Indiana and Illinois are ruined, dried up and skeleton like, leaving insurance companies to pay for a seasons lost crops and wages. Despite the gravity, passers bye honked friendly hellos all along the road.

Midnight approaches and I am cue sheets behind schedule, and a too long to do list. You'll have to wait for the excitement in St. Louis tomorrow.