From Tumbleweeds to MTB Destination

Westwater, UT 1999

 In March 1995, I emigrated from North Carolina to Western Colorado in search of dry air and new places to ride bicycles. I rented an apartment in the sleepy boom-bust town of Fruita and on my first trip down Aspen Avenue, saw an almost empty downtown and tumbleweeds blowing down the street. Truthfully, the town seemed to be forlorn at best. The surrounding landscape however, appeared limitless to the imagination.

 Within a couple of months of residing in Fruita, a former honey factory on the SE corner of Mulberry and Aspen opened as a bike shop. I made it a point to pedal over on a day off to see what was happening there and was pleased to see it had the makings of a solid LBS. This fact was confirmed after I tore up the rear wheel of my primary MTB and brought it in for repair. Friendly, Fast, Proper and Great Pricing were all present. It was nice to have Over The Edge Sports as my LBS, even having no idea of what was to come.

 The first Fruita Fat Tire Festival came and went without my participation due to my work schedule. In the interim between the first two FFTFs, I met a couple of characters who were running multiday supported Kokopelli Trail trips and they hired me as a guide. When the second FFTF approached, it was determined that volunteering to guide rides under the banner of their tour company would be a good idea and we hosted rides daily during the festival. The vibes and multitude of volunteer perks confirmed that we had made the correct choice in participating. This set the foundation for what was to follow in my progression on two wheels in the dirt.

 Shortly after that second festival, my friends and I were riding trails in the "open travel" designated Bookcliffs one day and saw a few people on a faint cattle path just off of a main route. We stopped and called out to them and they motioned us over. We recognized them as core members of what was happening out there and were invited to join in, putting tracks down to help compact the faint path. This is when acquaintances became friends and from then on I was fully involved.

 The ringleader of the movement that was happening in Fruita had decided to go forth with it in early 1995, opening Over The Edge Sports with a few business partners who also saw the potential. What attracted me to it most was the enthusiasm to create something for everyone to enjoy and have fun while doing so. It was already evident before really knowing any of the OGs and after joining in to ride with them, the level of energy, skills, and comeraderie were the perfect formula to compliment morphing from being a casual enthusiast to living a lifestyle. This was facilitated by everyone who came and went while I was present for the next eight years. Everyone brought something to the table and we all realized it began with the the ringleader's notion that Fruita, CO had the potential to be a World Class MTB Destination, even being as close as it is to Moab, UT. One of the primary differences between the two locales was the emphasis of mountain biking responsibly, which was led from the top in Fruita. This is still evident today in many ways, including the inception of The Fruita Lean, which is the proper method of yielding on any singletrack trail, but especially in desert environs. We strived to keep Singletrack *single* and single it remained due to both education and diligence. Again, it all began at the top.

  The cat was let out of the bag very rapidly, assisted by the burgeoning internet, but primarily through word of mouth. The FFTF grew every year, as did the amount of visitors during the shoulder seasons in Colorado. During the Summer and Winter, the core group road tripped around the West to ride bikes and have fun. The carefree style accompanied by the relentless pursuit of smooth that in turn begat skill and speed,  garnered the attention of those who recognized and appreciated what we were doing. They in turn realized that this was attenable to anyone who applied these basic tenets in lieu of attempting to force themselves into the lifestyle by careless aggression that the trails still suffer to this day. It wasn't merely about mountain biking, it was also about being stewards of the lifestyle and yet again, this all began at the top.

 I departed the Grand Valley, yet never lost touch with many of those who were there from the beginning to the end of my tenure in Western Colorado. Over the years many more flowed in, some stayed and others moved on. Many made fantastic contributions and some are still doing so. Few however, have made claims of having been there from the start, or fed notions that Fruita blossomed largely or even solely by their doing. While contributions to the area have been made by many, every little piece of the puzzle was crucial, especially in the late 1990s. The ringleader did an interview in the past few years, which is posted up on yewtewb. In the comments section, most responses were positive and deservedly so. One commenter decided to lambaste the ringleader, accusing them of being egotistical and not giving credit to anyone else. Had this comnenter actually listened, credit was given without having to name names. Names are for tombstones and besides that, those I knew and befriended from that bunch still let their actions do the talking for them.

 After 20 years of not hanging out in Fruita or with the esteemed ringleader, we recently had the opportunity to catch-up and ride a bit there. Being thick as thieves for about eight years, we picked right up as if we had hung out just a few weeks prior. Life for both of us had gotten in the way of communicating much, or meeting up and we had always remained friends contrary to that. On both rides we took on the West side of the Grand Valley, we encountered another OG Fruitian (native, actually). Again, old friends picking right up where we left off. Fruita has changed a bit more, but mostly in population and an improved service industry. Yes, many are responsible for this transformation from Tumbleweeds to MTB Destination, but it all began somewhere and ignoring those origins is too Orwellian for me to not have a say about it. No shit, I was there.

Riders Come and Go, Kooks Accumulate

It's A Gas!

  

With the current petrochemical energy issues the planet is experiencing, the mass-media chirpings about the price of gasoline are currently omnipresent. What those chirpings seem to exclude every time the price of gas rises in this fashion is how a bicycle can save many from this perceived financial "disaster". Individual citizens have once again slurped up the media fool-aid and taken their "fight" to the interwebsz antisocial media with the usual virtual fist-shaking and blame games. This always makes me ponder just how many of these fist-shakers turn the key to an internal combustion powered conveyance to complete the simplest transportation tasks via any alternative, but especially with a bicycle. This parade of self-inflicted victicrats seems endless, though it's all very entertaining to those of us who already know and practice the easiest answer to their transportation woes. As such, I'd like to dedicate this next number to those who are unknowingly (due to their own ignorance) a gas:

It's A Gas!

eCycle + Old Manchild = Trail Mayhem

 I'm not going to ask if I can get a witness because I was the witness to the acts of the witless in this case. This particular 50/60something Colorado manchild ran amok on a trail, leaving a trail of destruction in his skidiotic wake. Not only was he skidding into almost every turn, but blowing corners and crosscutting turns were also included in his repertoire of lame. A small sampling is pictured below because a full documentation would have taken hours. 

The manchild in this case seems to have recently acquired a motorized device that now allows him to access terrain he obviously doesn't know how to handle properly. Before his recent acquisition, the damage created by his lack of skills and non-existent etiquette was very confined. Now he has the ability to get in way over his head and the immediate results are obvious. There are three likely scenarios to develop in this case; serious injury or death caused by ineptutude and/or lack of fitness, public shaming, or scaring themselves into taking up another hobby. I'm hoping for the latter of the three, don't go away angry, just go away.

Riders Come and Go, Kooks Accumulate

Desert Dickweeds

 With all of the information available to anyone with a connected deevice in their grimy paws, how does one not know the rules of any pursuit? Recently I took Backgammon back up after many years of not playing and read the rules before proceeding. It took all of about five minutes. Why then do people run amok on their mountain bikes with an inexcusable disregard for proper etiquette and denegrate the environment with their blatant ignorance? There appears to be a myriad of reasons and pointing a finger at entitlement is probably the easiest cover-all, however sloth and other negative aspects of the inhuman condition are complicit as well.

 Though the IMBA rules of the trail cover the basics well enough for anyone beyond a third grade reading comprehension level, it's too basic to explain a few details that are especially important in desert environs to those who found themselves sat in a corner with a dunce cap on. The most important item of note is the base of all life forms in many deserts, Cryptobiotic Soil. The microorganisms contained within Cryptobiotic Crust are ground zero for all desert life where they occur and when they are damaged and eliminated, they take decades or even centuries to recover. A saying to bring awareness to this that isn't used enough anymore is, "Don't Bust The Crust". One irresponsible person on a mountain bike in the desert is bad enough, but when others of the same ilk see tracks and convinces themselves that it's not bad form, life disappears in the desert.

 Riding wet trails in the desert is largely based on soil composition. While riding trails that have high sand content allows for more more moisture content without damaging the tread, many desert trails have a combination of soil types. Once the loam runs out and shale takes over the trail bed, those with a self-imposed cluelessness and deep wallets to replace drivetrains can utterly destroy a trail. Sensible trail users turn around at this point and cause no harm, whereas the DGAFs continue on in their blissful ignorance.

 When land managers are made aware of damages caused by such rampant disregard, they have a tendency to be less supportive of the user group(s) responsible. It's easy for anyone with one iota of common sense that if wanton destruction such as this is going to create fiscal strain to their lands, the damages may not be repaired and future facilities would get reduced consideration.

Riders Come and Go, Kooks Accumulate

Flo and Mountain Biking

 The advent and continuing creation of machine built mountain bike trails brought a "new" buzzword into the mainstream vernacular, flow. The concept of flow is not a new notion, however building it into the trails is rather new in a historical perspective. In the days of yore, if one wanted to flow down a trail they had to create it themselves with learned skillsets. Nowadays, those skillsets are not necessary if one seeks out machine built flow trails and that seems be causing a myriad of issues that feed my notion of degradation beyond the general lack of skills these trails require.

 The most glaring issue with those firmly attached to modern flow trails is the apparent inability to turn without being aided by a berm. I was fortunate to be patiently shown how to look for hooks and use them, which is highly applicable in both technical trail riding and on machine built flow, especially at speed. The most common miscue witnessed in this light would be flow disciples attempting to bomb the lines that are optimal for slower speeds. On wide machine built trails, this causes cut corners, skidding and blown-out turns when the turns are not on a bench cut. If one is looking for and using the hooks at higher speeds, they are not cutting corners but instead hitting the hook, which could be as simple as the cup in the middle of the tread, or as unapparent as a notch in a boulder.

  The ability to keep oneself in the trailbed on a singletrack is touted by advocacy groups with the common tenet of "Control Your Bicycle". With most flow trails, this should be an easy task as they tend to be well over a foot wide, however the aforementioned inability of some to adhere to staying in the trailbed (especially on trails that are not a bench cut), those cut corners and blown-out flat turns tell a story of ignorance and/or entitlement. There are countless trails where the inability to stay in the trailbed have dire consequences to those not adhering to one of the most basic rules of the trail. Riding out of the trail bed on The Portal in Moab can lead to a 600' cliff dive, which has occured before and will do so again. Riding within ones limits and respecting the trails creates a true advocate, whereas those of a hypocritical nature who may claim that title are only fooling themselves and their sycophantic virtual and personal acquaintances. When a rider is controlling their bike, their tracks stay in the tread.

 The last item of observation is the Vanillafication that these trails appear to be creating. The designs of machine built flow trails are very similar across the board and this is especially true where soil conditions are the same. The berms, bumps, jumps, etc. tend to be carbon copies that create what flowficionados crave, the safety of Vanilla. Putting Rocky Road in front of those used to Vanilla can cause a variety of issues, though self-preservation is most likely high on their list and they will not want a taste. Another factor that keeps flowficionados away from different flavors is ego, but that's a topic for another day. Of course when some with the afflictions in question do attempt a different flavor, it can be disastrous to the environment and/or themselves. While Rocky Road isn't for everyone, there are still many who crave variety, as it's proverbially The Spice of Life.

 The burning question remains, is this curmudgeon against machine built flow trails? The answer is no, in fact I feel it's a great way to get people turned onto the lifestyle and get some exercise. The side effects (both beneficial and destructive) are part of the human condition, though with the narcissistic tendencies created by various antisocial media platforms, the destructive aspect is worsening. Destructive is unfortunately what we get from the few who don't wish to adhere to the most basic tenets of the trail. If there's a cure for selfishness beyond those of that ilk on the trails deleting themselves by their own misdeeds, I'd really like to know. There is a certain comfort in all of this to Riders though, the truth is out there on trails where one must bring their own flow.

Riders Come and Go, Kooks Accumulate 

Mister Miyagi and Mountain Biking

 Mister Miyagi got things right in so many of his principles in reference to the MTB realm. His eternal cinematic wisdom may be applied in sports realms well beyond Martial Arts if one was to ponder this in their chosen sports pursuits. I've only chosen two of these to ponder in recent months, however I'm certain most of his wisdom is also applicable.

Must Have Balance

 Balancing one's life is wise throughout, being something that will always be necessary in order to live life to the fullest. In the MTB realm, it has many forms. My lifelong desire to explore new places has fueled my life balance on two wheels since childhood. Having a myriad of skillsets on two wheels is essential for this, with abilities allowing me to go places and see things that have a lifelong imprint on my mind. The pigeon-holing of oneself into a media-created realm of a lifestyle such as MTB prevents this, though if this is what one seeks, then one is simply doing what suits their idea and that's fine. Though this may lack balance, some may have other pursuits that balance their lives in lieu of solely identifying as "mountain biker". In my experience, many who hang their hat solely on one aspect of any recreational pursuit while using that as their identity are largely fraudulent and when they do decide to venture beyond the "safety" of their chosen realm, they can be a danger to themselves, others, and the integrity of the environment.

No Such Thing as Bad Student, Only Bad Teacher

 The term "teacher" in this instance is being utilized to represent those who actually teach, those who have either a community or self-imposed leadership role, or are the "old guard" and should be setting good examples irregardless of whom they are with or where they are riding. Monkey See, Monkey Do can be a benefit, or a hindrance in the teacher/student relationship. If the student observes the teacher performing proper etiquette on the trail, they usually respond in kind, especially if discussed previously. An example of hindrance would be the teacher stopping in the middle of the trail with their student and effectively blocking the trail to other users, should another trail user happen along. The student may now be under the belief that stopping and blocking a public right of way is acceptable, when it's not and is actually contrary to the vehicle code in some states. This instance is the tip of the proverbial iceberg, practiced by the Indignantly Ignorant, who are largely responsible for the degradation of trail systems around the globe. Bad Teachers creating Bad Students tends to lead to ignorant and destructive behavior such as this ridiculously long skid:

 While I'm alright with those who lack balance and don't destroy public resources, my disdain for bad teachers remains because their students literally destroy public trail systems. Even so, bad students from bad teachers will most likely remain unbalanced and tether themselves to three or four trails, keeping their destructive ways away from the remote places that don't find their way onto bucket lists or the like. If the unbalanced from bad teachers do venture out of the safety of their chosen realm, it's usually to an a-technical marquee trail that media-fed zombies tend to flock to.

Riders come and go, Kooks accumulate.

Before and After

This Schwinn Excelsior head badge was acquired a few years ago and partially restored at that time. I dug it out and put a couple of hours into it, finishing with a coat of high quality Carnauba Wax. Elbow Grease is so analog and thus, quite rewarding in this digital age.

As soon as the Round Tuit gets my 1940 Schwinn Pullman BMX Style Restomod into the stand for some head tube rehab/prep, I'll drop a few pics of where it's supposed to be.