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 27, 2012

Day 39. Red dirt roads and wild horses

Miles: 86
Weather: 101 degrees and Barron dryness

Soak in the greenery and savor every last drop, wont see that again till Santa Barbara.

The scenery changed drastically today. We passed wind farms that stood miles high above our tiny bike and breathed gusts of warm air onto our route. The shades of green faded, the rocky hills and jetting red dirt planted its presence strong. Trees dwindled as the day went on. The sky grew larger, vaster, the horizon expanded, and it was as through the land finally reigned free. Free of cities, cars, farms, and lush plant life. Dirt, snakes, and heat waves off dried yellow fields command this land. The clouds today were the kind that kindergardeners draw with animal resemblance making up stories of dragons and they filled the sky to infinity.

We are entering a part of the country where the vegetation is not our friend. Passing houses where horses roam wild in front yards and pastures where black tan and cream colored cows look at you as though aliens had come to town.

Cordell, Oklahoma. 13 churches, 7 banks, 3000 people, 0 blue mail drop boxes, 0 bars, 0 TVs to watch the opening games of the Olympics, and where eggs are $1 a dozen. There is a striking beauty of the nothingness on the open road, its quiet presence adventurously guiding us along, but at the end of the day, as welcoming as all have been, I am getting a bit homesick for civilization.