Fruita, Colorado

My desire to capture the many experiences, thoughts and ideas that run around in my head have prompted me to start this blog. So I'll put pen to paper by starting with a trip to Fruita, Colorado in April 2006. The spark of it all. This is my account of the week:

Day1

Today we rode Rabbit Valley, just West of Fruita, CO. It started across cattle fields on sweet, sandy singletrack with loads of speed. Woohoo! A ride through a wash slowly climbed up and saw me with 2 flats and Andrew biting the dust trying to hold onto a Juniper branch. Snap! Pretty much all the trees out here are Junipers, barely clinging to the ground, waiting patiently for some rain. They have pale blue berries. The Zion Curtain trail continued to go up and swoop down all the way to the Kokopelli, which ended our day with a bang of a climb. It is so nice to be able to finish a ride, especially one as epic as this, and have nothing to do on a 4500' clifftop overlooking a hundred other clifftops. We find ourselves just wandering around, setting up camp and soaking in everything that was right now. Good food, beer and a sky that looked a bit threatening. There is so little rain here, I am not at all worried. It's still the first day of 5. I'm in awe. 18 miles.

Day2

Last night it blew like crazy. I would awake to what sounded like sails unlashed from the rigging, whipping and thrashing about. Coming from the West. I left the tent a few times just to batten down the hatches. Rain fell off and on. Not much. Just enough to make a pitter patter on the tent for 15 minutes, but enough to have me thinking about whether or not we'd be riding in the rain. It turned out beautiful at 7am, sunny and clear blue sky with some scattered clouds. We had blueberry pancakes and kielbasa for breakfast. Across the rim of 2 canyons and after an hour of slightly rolling singletrack, we hit the lunch spot, with a twist. 8 miles of super gnar-gnar awaited anyone ballsy enough to add this to already 20 miles planned for today. 9 of us stepped up to the plate and hit it. Not as tech as I expected, no big downhills. Just rocky, washed out, sandy singletrack with a few 2-3 foot drops. Andrew was flopping like a fish for the first half of the 8, then "relax, flow" took over after some advice. Nice downhill finish to lunch. It's hot! There is no relief from the sun here while riding. Total exposure unless you lay under a Juniper. After lunch we drop sharply into Knowles Canyon. Some wide open fast riding ensues and we in the 8+ mile club are ready to toss our cookies! 18 miles remain and there's bound to be some climbing. We skirt some canyons on what I think is the Rim Trail, above the Colorado River basin and hit up some slickrock. Tires grip like crazy on it. Sand is probably the hardest obstacle for me out here. It will cause you to lose your line and come to an abrupt halt. My cleats won't release and I fall over multiple times just slowing down. Dave flats and I stay behind with him. We bomb some super fast double (Trail2, Kokopelli) and end up on BLM land at our campsite. Andrew and I ride down trail 2 to find 2 cows blocking the trail. Cows everywhere. Judging by the cowpies on the ground, our camp area is not immune. We are setting up camp on a cowpasture/canyonland. After a cold bag shower under a tree we chow down on fajitas, rice and beans. Fruita/Chocolate fondue for desert. Bloodnut breaks out the Port wine and all us Yanks do shots, thinking it's some kind of liqueur. Stupid Americans. Always in a rush. We discuss Scientology and stupid Americans around the fire. Mormons, Aborigines come up too, as well as bag balm and chamois cream.
I sit here now at 11pm, half drunk, and there is a group of cows somewhere out my tent flap. I can't see them, but I can hear them. That and some snoring nearby. It's quiet right now. No rain cover tonight. I'm one step closer to "sleeping under the stars". Almost a Full Moon. 28 miles.

Day3

Sleeping without a cover proved a good choice, nice breeze all night and stars. Lots of stars. We have oatmeal with all the fixins'. Our ride starts on the Kokopelli Trail. It's a dirt road that winds along the bottom, parallel to I-70. Fast. Suddenly, we are headed down the rockiest most difficult singletrack yet. It's more like a rut with rocks than a trail. Still the Kokopelli, but a meaner version. I don't think anyone made it riding. Lunch under a railroad bridge over the Salt Creek. Hotter than hell. The creek, cold, brown. We climb up, passing up the bikes along a ledge that I'm nervous just walking on. It's on to the Kokopelli and Troy Built. I don't know what was on the right side of Troy because my eyes could only see left, down a ledge high enough that a spill would do major damage. Onward fire road to Mary's Loop. I fall through a cattle grate. Close call. Stupid Steve. Mary's is a ledge above the Colorado River. Aussie and I stop to get the feeling back in our hands and fix a flat. Canyons and fast slickrock descent into Loma. We cruise to Fruita for happy hour at the Hot tomato. Wollongong and I check out the map as no one else seems interested. Me? I'm all about maps. I'm a freakin' map freak!! It's a welcome visit into civilization for an hour. Hose shower at Simons Chiefton 22'. No soap, just a hosedown. We head North in the van on '18 Road' up to Book Cliffs. We will be up here for 2 days. We set up in a camping area on 18 Rd., BLM land. It is a huge piece of land at the foot of the Book Cliffs. Still just Junipers. Stir fry shrimp salad. Probably 28 miles today. It's gorgeous up here. The Moon illuminates the entire landscape. I can see the tops of the cliffs at 10pm. Awesome.

Day 4

We ride Book Cliffs today. The riding here is different than in Rabbit Valley, less rocks, more dirt and crazy trails that go off in every direction. Classic Fruita I am told. We ride Kessel and within a mile I am down. I hit the double roller a wee bit too fast and got launched off of the second. Up and over...BAM!! All systems check out before anyone ran me over. We head up Prime Cut and play on a tough rock ledge. I've got another flat and a bent der. hanger. Fix up and roll. It is hotter than hell out here, directly in the sun. How things live out here I do not know. Meagan from Western Spirit rides with us. SS'er. She sets up a beverage run. Good call as Simon likes the '90 Shilling Ale'. Me too. Andrew rolls with the Bud Lite.
We continue up to Joe's Ridge which was probably the funnest of all the stuff we rode. You could hit it twice in less than an hour which we did before lunch. Beer is good out here, nice and cold. It's actually good in other places as well, but it's extra special on a hot day in Fruita. After lunch was Zippety which is like Joe's on steroids. A ribbon of singletrack laid on the tops of hills for miles. It was an eerie feeling riding up there, especially with a stiff breeze, which we had. Picture riding along the top of a roof. The stuff is steep! After that rush, we rolled back into camp full of adrenaline, wide eyed. We where ready for more. We just kept riding different loops, cut loose from the others to do whatever.
There is a party at the Western Spirit campsite tonight! Lasagna with free range sausage. Big B-day cake for Beth the Aussie and Anne Lynn made in Simon's Dutch oven. Happy Birthday! What a way to spend it! We drank and rode all night. Plenty of moonlight. Rock Springs and I did Joe's at sunset with an owl tailing us. Mule deer. Absolutely beautiful. Later was a Kessel luge run. Skip Hamilton showed up at camp. He hung with us and showed his mileage as a RAAM record holder and all around superman when it comes to endurance racing. His demeanor was like no other I have ever experienced. 60 years old and full of life and happiness. Skip rode a SS with 34-20, 29'er. Same gear as me!! He told us of helping Ned Overend ski and train with Specialized. He threw out some names from the past, Daryll Price, Ellydee, ... He also told us the story of the Fruita headless chicken. Skip would disappear and come back, like a ghost, always with his lab Zoey. I don't know if he was riding or what. He came back one time with 3 logs for our fire. 1 pine, 1 Aspen and 1 Juniper. Where the hell did he get the aspen?! About 11pm we saddled up. Simon, Jerry, Skip, Zoey and myself to hit some moonlight action:
I ride Joe's Ridge on a Good Friday with Skip Hamilton and the other OTE crazies! Skip crashed on the steeps which took out Simon, too. We played the coasting game, pushing off a rock and seeing how far you coast w/o pedaling. A mile later, I lose. Locals advantage I suppose. A little skill difference perhaps. Skip said he crashed because he "saw a naked Zen" something. He rings his bell at every campsite just to say hello. As Simon put it, "Riding with the crazies"! Hey, we all signed a piece of paper. 30 some miles today.

Tell me we're not having fun.

Day 5

Friday and it's our last. We awake from the funk, get the coffee on and Simon & Sue whip up some bacon, egg and cheese McMuffins. Saddle up and hit Prime Cut to Chutes-n-Ladders. Skip stops by for coffee and joins us. What a treat to watch this guy ride. He resembles a spider on the bike. Just totally balanced, fast and I don't recall hearing his bike. No ching-chink, just a slight brake here and there and the knobbies humming on dirt. Chutes is technical roller coaster stuff to start. Then, we drop away from the mountains, down along the prairie. It's fast and you can see all the way across Fruita to the Colorado National Monument, where Andrew and I started out on Sunday in Ute Canyon. It seems so long ago that we rented a car and drove up into the monument and on to Fruita via the 'back way' for some eats at Fiesta Guadalajara.
Back on Chutes, we must cover 5 miles in 15 minutes. Prairie dogs let us know we are trespassing on their property. And Zoey eats one, or a mouse or something that squeaks while being chewed on. Back up Prime to Joe's, again on Joes. And a final slice of Joe's for photos. It's lunch time with a Sierra Nevada to quench the thirst. I've got the PROBFF. Post- ride- one -beer- food -funk. Sounds like a band..."We are PROBFF. We're from Finland". Pack up and a final-final run down Kessel where the van meets us. It's over, way too soon.

Back at OTE in Fruita, Skip gives us a farewell goodbye. A legend here. Skip Hamilton. RAAM record holder 10 years gone, when he was a youngster at 50.
The crew contemplates a beer across the street at The Tomato but we're about to head East to Grand Junction. All of the sudden, some girl rolls in with a six of PBR. Simon and I just look at each other. Problem solved. Cheers, mate!

Friday Night, Grand Junction

Andrew, Rock Springs, Dave, Aussie, Gregg, Jeremy and myself clean up and head downtown for some eats. It's sushi and it's good. Cal rolls, peapod thingys, Sake and big Sapporo's. We laugh and laugh. Next stop, Rockslide Brewery for some Kokopelli Cream Ale. The pitchers are flowin'! We head out to get some air and move on. We spot a place with a band and Stacey and I duck in before paying the $10 cover. Clapton fuzzes painfully from the speakers. As RS put it, "that crappy band playing a brutal rendition of..." Andrew yells, "I love cocaine" and I guess the bouncer had seen enough. We are being escorted or "slightly man-handled" out after 2 minutes in the front door. A new record. That's OK. The Blue Moon offered us a cool setting to laugh, eat and drink the night out. Cab ride home. Shoot some pool at CoCo's.

The plane ride home on Saturday was long and I had a sick, torn feeling in my gut. Half missing my family, half having to leave new friends I had just spent 5 days with in the desert. Gregg, a psychologist, says depression, a normal feeling. I say it is living life full-bore for a week and then having to stop abruptly and change direction. I hope to be back out West someday for more adventure.