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, August 22, 2012

Day 65. The Last Century

Miles: 100 even
Weather: very un-California desert like, being chased by a thunderstorm all day.

Arriving in Portland Maine nearly 10 weeks ago, I was a California snob, thinking my state was superior to all, that our fruits were fresher, our coastlines more beautiful, our forests more expansive, our deserts more baron, our people more progressive, and our culture more diverse. Now 3 days into my homeland and I feel bitterly wronged. Ehh, what is this strip of South Eastern Cali that I never knew? Pathetic roads so ridden with potholes you'd think the state was broke. Oh yeah, it is. Prisons so big that they looked via bike as though they encompassed the entire town. I knew on the other side of the mountains south of my view was Los Angeles, my childhood home, and I wasn't thrilled for some reason. I was no longer excited about the new roads to be discovered, or the towns that were to come. Palmdale, CA, our destination of the day, a desert where people have bright green lawns all year long thanks to the people who make it possible to pump water from hundreds of miles away. And thank god, praise the lord, more In and Out burger joints and authentic Mexican food too spicy to eat. 

Ok, simply because Bike & Build routed us through the absolute ugliest part of the state, I won't get too down on you Cali. I know Santa Barbara's beauty will revive us and my faith in you as my home that surpasses other lonely 4-8 letter states. That you do rein awesome, despite the close affair I had with Arizona, New Mexico, and Pennsylvania.

I can't say I saw much of anything spectacular today, I have no inspiring words of beauty to report. However, after getting lost, and clocking in a 97 miles at the host, we circled the block with sprinklers blasting to top it off as our last century ride.

Although California has disappointed me, allowing me to hide my pride from others, our host these next two days makes up for any abandonment my state left us with. AV Youth Build it is called, an organization created to offer kids, aged 16-24, from roughed up backgrounds and families to have the opportunities to learn about construction and building, and then build affordable houses in the communities. Many of them live on site, and work not only to rebuild the lives of others, but themselves as well. So I guess something grand has come out of this day after all. 

Pictures below are of Bottle Tree Ranch, a glass bottle sculpture ranch we passed on route 66 into town.