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.


Sunday, June 1, 2014

Day 4. Boulder Mountain to Capitol Reef National Park

Miles: 57
Ride time: 4 hours 58 minutes
Elevation max: 9651 feet
High: 93 degrees
Low: 45 degrees 

Most of my dear friends know me as grandma. But let's just set the record straight, as O'reilly may have pulled one over me. 13 hours of sleep later, he was bright eyes and bursting at the seams. 

Some days are just harder than others. The miles begin to wear and tear, and with an exhausted body, every ounce of mental space is reserved for the fight to pedal on. Today the miles didn't slip by lost in thought, pondering the landscape for the perfect set of descriptive words, taken away in complete awe by the scenic beauty. Instead, it took Henry bear's lovely sugary gold to power a constant reminder to keep pedaling. As we trudged up this mountain of birch forests and bright yellow flowers, snow caped peaks, hitting nearly 10,000ft, oxygen drained from blood and like stones legs didn't want to move. Descents come only as rewards for sore muscles in Utah. Toping speeds of 50+ mph, now is not the time to fail me, bicycle! Down through forested plateaus, thunder mountain type roller coasters, deep into an alien of forms as O'reily puts it, through over saturated red rock canyon speckled with ripe green trees we finally found home for the night. An already fully overloaded campground crammed with overweight Americans hauling around their worldly belongings in a massive oversized RV, we were quickly taken in by two German mates. The evening was spent chatting them up about bad American coffee, their worldly bicycle touring adventures, and all their gear as they too are traveling via bike thousands of miles.

After a day of only stopping to eat, wipe the sand sweat from our eyes, and a cold baptized wash in a canyon creek, a leisurely afternoon was pure glory. Napping under shady trees, munching on carrots with Ralph, swimming in refreshing rivers, O'reily sums it quite well as his over caffeination from too many Redbulls that kept his neurons in full fire, 

"Dear Earth, thanks for you ability to always suprise me. Dear Life, thanks for malleability. Love, O'Reilly".  

Despite it's overwhelming cracks, crevices, mile high mountains, and prohibition-like drinking laws, Utah has opened its doors to us. People are the friendliest of creatures, and there is something about showing up on two wheels, your life attached to a self-powered collaboration of steel and bolts, that brings the best out of humanity.