Fruita. Sounds delicious just saying it. But when you venture westward, go there and place your feet on the pedals, wheels in the track and ride; when you feel the moisture sucked out of your body; when the dust creeps in and the taste of the trail permeates your entire being; when you find yourself alone at twilight with the western desert on fire before your very eyes and a few miles of beautiful, empty trail still ahead; when you replenish at days' end in the company of friends old and new AND the next day presents a chance to…