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.


Saturday, July 21, 2012

Day 33. Sleep cycling and goldfish pesto pasta

Miles: 80
Me: yellow 1970s lawn chair lunch girl
Weather: 100 degree with a breeze

Waking up at 4:30am to hear that Tender Tim, a character of sorts who if fails at his underwater trash remover invention would make it famous being a comedian, had been sleep pedaling through the night inside his down sleeping bag while dreaming of pace lining.

Finally, a day of physical rest, vaning lunch around, I could finally kick this left over snot sickness out of my nose.

Lunch was found at a conservation area with shade, toilets, fresh made pesto pasta, overnighted to us by Fabulous Amy's mom, which riders topped with cheddar goldfish to make it Bike & Build complete. Our $7 relaxing yellow white and green plaid lawn chair laid itself out for me luring me in with Bill Bryson's book about traveling the Midwest, all too clique.

Passing signs of, "Can't be Christian if you vote Democrat. Read the bible," the spice girls of my early teens rocked the van. We still are questioning how that got into the stereo player. We are definitely are in the bible belt land, dear god! Pathetic signs about God litter the hwy left and right.

Coming into Joplin was a whirlwind of tragic disaster. May 20, 2011 Joplin was hit by one of the biggest tornados in history leveling miles of homes and hospitals, killing 160 people, and destroying 3,000 homes. Driving into town over a year later one could still see the disasters direct path, remnants of steps and foundations, pieces of roofing still laying in baron wasteland. A sole standing painted tree remains the only thing standing in sight for miles, colorfully painted to remember those who died in the grocery store that once stood in this lost community. Google mapping the post office I arrive to find nothing but a plank of concrete with weeds creeping through. Almost to the host, the streets were deserted, the land flattened, my gosh was the church we would call home for the night still there even?? Everyone here has a story and it's not pretty.

Our host was there in almost full form, although in rebuilding phase still, hit hard by the twister. I think we are all wondering why we aren't building here. However Bike & Build has given a grant of almost $10,000 to the blitz build week they hold in August here this year.