When the summer sun shines in Geneva or Seneca Falls, it’s not unusual to hear, somewhere in the distance, the “Super Mario Bros.” theme song. The nostalgia-inducing melody issues from a technicolor truck with a bubblegum-pink grille and rainbow-painted tires rotating lackadaisically at roughly five miles per hour.
“The original inspiration for the music was my dad … we used to play Mario brothers all the time,” said Paige Montgomery, owner and operator of the Sprinkle Starship ice cream truck.
But it’s not just video game tunes — she has a five-hour playlist.
“I play 8-bit covers of everything and old arcade music. I’ll play you one,” Montgomery said, landing a thumb on Queen’s “We Are the Champions,” which plunked out in retro electronic tones. “So this is what I’m jamming to.”
2025 will be Montgomery’s eighth summer piloting Sprinkle Starship. The idea came from watching an episode of “Shameless” at age 17.
“I didn’t have an idea for a career,” she said. “I was thinking, ‘Oh my god, that’d be such a great idea to actually have an ice cream truck. And the more I thought about it, the more realistic it seemed … I talked to my dad about it, and we brainstormed together, then we took that idea to the health department and they guided us the rest of the way.”
Geoffrey Montgomery, Paige’s dad, is a self-taught computer programmer who got his start in the ’80s, when his own father, a computer salesman, helped him get started. He described himself as an at-times impulsive risk taker — qualities he sees reflected in Paige.
“She’s smart, she’s funny, she’s creative … she’s a good kid, good heart, good human,” he said. “I was like, ‘Yeah, that would do really well.’ But she was only 17 at the time … so I didn’t know if she was totally serious about it. But I like thinking outside the box and at the time … she didn’t really have a direction, so I thought it was something kind of cool.”
As it turned out, Paige was pretty serious, so Geoffrey bought a 1988 former FedEx truck on Craigslist and started the retrofitting process.
“That’s when it became real,” he said. “At that point, all the pressure was on me to not let this kid down.”
He told her that if she handled the business side, he would help with the equipment. In the simplest scenario, a refrigerated truck that meets code is a significant undertaking. But Paige didn’t want to stop there. She contacted Perry’s Ice Cream, an hour west of Rochester in Akron, and they agreed to be her supplier. Today, she rotates between about eight flavors of hard ice cream through her onboard freezer, which she scoops into cones, sundaes and from-scratch milkshakes.
Paige served ice cream to her high school class after graduation. Then, she drove to classes at Finger Lakes Community College in her truck (Paige’s grandmother encouraged her to get a degree — something, she told her granddaughter, a man couldn’t take from her).
“I see myself as an artist, and I always have,” Paige said. “I like things very eclectic and bright and colorful.”
To date, Montgomery has owned three trucks, each one painted by hand and customized to make them, as she puts it, “homemade.” These days, Sprinkle Starship is a fixture at festivals, parties and events all summer.
Whether it’s the ubiquitous appeal of ice cream or the kaleidoscopic whimsy of Paige and her business, Sprinkle Starship captures patrons’ attention and affection. One of Paige’s videos went viral on TikTok, racking up a million views. She gets fan mail from people who see her posts, and she’s filled orders for her personally tie-dyed merch from as far away as Germany.
“A lot of parents have said to me that I’m an inspiration for young girls, because I’m a woman business owner,” said Paige. “There’s a family in Geneva — [the truck] actually broke down in front of their house … four kids came out with drawings of the truck for me. It’s obviously more than just an ice cream truck.”
For Geoff, the moment where Sprinkle Starship exceeded the orbit of ice cream was early in its tenure.
“When we first opened, it was incredible to watch her start serving ice cream after we built this truck,” he said. “She pulled in the driveway, ran up to me and jumped into my arms, gave me a huge hug. That was the moment … you can’t beat that.”
When Paige is in her truck, she tries to be her best self. She has dreams for the future of the business — partnering with a baker for brownie sundaes, making her own ice cream, hiring an employee to relieve the burgeoning carpal tunnel symptoms in her scooping hand and buying a small Chevy P10.
In many ways, Sprinkle Starship is Paige Montgomery. It’s the hand-painted trucks, the name she came up with in high school, the personal messages written to her on the interior walls (“Have a great day kid!! Love, Dad”). But it’s also something deeper.
“This kind of is more personal, but I didn’t really see much of myself,” said Paige. “I didn’t really have any big goals or dreams … but now this is my literal reason for living sometimes. I put a lot of hard work into it. I see myself differently now.” thesprinklestarship.com
Pete Wayner is a contributor to CITY.
This article appears in Dec 1-31, 2024.
