There live among us some misguided souls who tire of mountain biking.   For riders who grow  jaded with mountain biking, there is simply no excuse.  Not in a universe that includes Fruita, Colorado.  I just returned from my fourth visit to this mountain bike wonderland where the Book Cliffs meet the Colorado River.  The trip was a revelation.  Indeed, visitors see overwhelming evidence that Fruita represents All That Is Right, Just and Good About Mountain Biking.

Once they rode the roller-coaster trails of the Book Cliffs, jaded riders immediately shed their, uh, Jade.  Granted, "roller coaster" is an overused word to describe undulating singletracks, but it truly applies to Fruita's trail system, where 200-foot granny-gear ascents curve right into 300-foot plunges.  Ups and downs living together.  It's not advisable to hold you hands above your head and shout "Whee!" – handlebars still demand attention, so most Fruita riders simply giggle.

Before they die, all mountain bikers should check out the Edge Loop.  This 300-plus-mile epic starts with an energizing dose of the aforementioned roller coaster trails, then segues into a nicely pitched, sceanic fire road where you gain most of your elevation and civilization seems a distant memory.  From the top drops a steep singletrack that twists and turns like a snake with Parkinson's disease.   Just when your braking hands get tired, it flattens out in a quintessentially Western arroyo; swerve through its boulders for awhile until you get to the dried up waterfall.  Here you have to grab a fixed rope and rappel down a granite chute.  When you re-mount your bike at the bottom, ask yourself why folks ever pedal paved bike paths.  

What's more, Fruita exemplifies the ideal mountain biking town.  You can camp in a multitude of free spots, whether overlooking the river near the Kokopelli Trail or on the edge of juniper-festooned ravines near Bool Cliffs.  The restaurants are simple and on one's idea of gormet, but the prices seem like they haven't changed in 20 years.  The coffee shop does a good job.  Most importantly, the town is anchored by Over The Edge Sports – a sizable, knowledgeable, hardcore bike shop that could have chased dollars by channeling all its resources into running tours for beginners and tourists.  Indeed, its small staff builds wicked trails and has made singletrack its mission in life: It repeatedly reminds bikers to ride just one side of doubletracks so the trails will evolve into 15-inch-wide ribbons of ecstasy.  

Not that Fruita lacks singletracks.  They abound here.  And because western Colorado looks a helluva lot like eastern Utah, the result is sublime: Moab scenery with trails instead of ragged jeep roads.

One of the finest Fruita singletracks is brand spanking new: the Moore Fun Trail in the Kokopelli Trail System west of town.  It's a technical masterpiece that noodles through sagebrush and clings to the sides of precipitous drainage.  It contains about as many straight-aways as a Slinky.  You aim your front tire through fist sized slots and float the back wheel over umpteen rocky ledges.  And why is Moore spelled with two O's?  Because Moore Fun honors Bob Moore, a mold-shattering BLM authority who has long worked to ensure mountain bike access in this charmed part of the West.  Where else in the country could you find such an amazing trail honoring such a great man?  Nowhere.

Rob Story  (November 2001)