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, August 18, 2012

Day 61. Mohave is a desert

Miles: 90
Weather: Desert average 102

Sadly we are leaving the beautiful state of Arizona, and it shows. But before we hit the Mohave desert and the armpit of east California, we passes through beautiful jagged rocks jetting upwards like large oversized pebbles. Roaring trains followed us all day 139 train cars long seated between to pointy mountains. We hit the hot Mojave as though we were breathing into a blow dryer of hot air. After riding through rumble strips all day with a wind plummeting into our faces, chatting about a food that dont pair with both cheese and chocolate, we lay dead at an abandoned route 66 gas station.

We headed straight to In and Out burgers in Kingman. You'd think the who team was riding to get fresh burgers not the pacific ocean.

Kingman showed signs of the dreaded town I ran from 9 years ago, LOs Angeles, Faces caked in make up, girls roaming the streets in booty yoga pants, and a town with car fetishes and rolling cement sprawl. I don't think AT&T knew Arizona was a state, for 10 days I struggled to find a single tiny cell bar for service, yet now just miles from Nevada state line, we are back in to 3G. I'll give it to our kind host though who cooked us a lovely dinner, and went out of his way to cater to our every need.