Day 1

I decided that to truly know what I what getting into, I should plan this out day by day to make sure there are water stops and if there are not, be able to plan for the specified amount of time without water.  Carrying enough calories is not really an issue, my main concern is water.

Day 1.  I have ridden this entire section before, and then an additional 20 more miles in one day before (last year), so I am not concerned about the distance.  This will be 58 miles in total, from the Kokopelli's trailhead in Fruita to the Fish Ford campground on the Colorado River.  Some guidebooks state there is water there, some say no.  Either way, there is the river and I have the filter.  Sounds good to me, and its not a "normal" campsite so it shouldn't be busy.

I haven't yet figured out exactly what I am doing in regards to getting the bike to Colorado, or how to get it put together and get to the trailhead.  So an early start may be out of the question.  This is why I chose to take a slightly lighter mileage the first day since I am not sure I will be able to start with the sun.  Also, this is a fun trip, not the failed attempt of last year trying to ride 10,000ft of climbing in one day.

From Desert Solitaire by Ed Abbey, specifically the chapter "water":

There are rumors that when dying of thirst you can save your soul and body by extracting water from the barrel cactus.  This is a dubious proposition and I don't know anyone who has made the experiment.  It might be possible in the Sonoran desert where the barrel cactus grows tall as a man and fat as a keg of beer.  In Utah however, its nearest relative stands no more than a foot high and bristles with needles curved like fishhooks.  To get even close to this devilish vegetable you need leather gloves and a machete.  Slice off the top and you find inside not water but only the green pulpy core of the living plant.  Carving the core into manageable chunks you might be able to wring a few drops of bitter liquid into your cup.  The labor and exasperation will make you sweat, will cost you dearly.

When you reach this point you are doomed.  Far better to have stayed at home with the TV and a case of beer. If the happy thought arrives too late, crawl into the shade and contemplate the lonely sky.  See those big black scrawny wings far above, waiting?  Comfort yourself with the reflection that within a few hours, if all goes as planned, your human flesh will be working its way through the gizzard of a buzzard, your essence transfigured into the fierce greedy eyes and unimaginable consciousness of a turkey vulture.  Whereupon you, too, will soar on motionless wings high over the ruck and rack of human suffering.  For most of us a promotion in grade, for some of us the realization of an ideal.  

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