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