7/10/25 Granada to Ventas de Zafarraya
This morning I seemed to ride through endless vineyards. There were three or four long dirt road climbs to ascend and as I completed each one I could feel the commitment to finishing this route steadily growing. Unfortunately late in the afternoon I noticed that I had now picked up a puncture on my front tire. Probably from me being careless and taking my bike off the trail onto the thorns. I was in one of those situations where I did not want to commit to trying to fix it. I needed to keep moving forward. So every thirty minutes or so I would stop and pump it back up to something resembling a serviceable mountain bike tire. I realised that I was not going to have enough time, or energy to push on over the final climb that I had planned to Alfanate. Instead I looked on the map for any nearby villages where I could bail to for the night and fix the puncture properly.
Zafarraya looked like a suitable place. Not that far off route and small. At least it looked so on my map! In reality it was a sizable dormitory town for the workers in the surrounding farms. No bars. No cafes I could see. No hotels either. I rode around a couple of times trying to locate one place that Google Maps has suggested. By the time I found it darkness had fallen and the situation was starting to look ever so slightly sketchy. Nobody answered when I rang the bell. I then saw two mobile numbers with names, one for Spanish speaking and the other for English. I took my chance and someone answered. He explained that the house was closed and it would not be possible to stay there. I asked for help, any suggestions of somewhere to stay. The person at the other end said they would WhatsApp me a link to a nearby bar with rooms. By 8:00 or 9:00 pm I did not have a lot of choice so I followed the given route which included sneaking past a farm back yard to Ventas de Zafarraya.
The bar looked inviting. I stepped in and asked the barman if he had any rooms. When he answered yes I immediately shook his hand and asked for a beer! I then ordered a huge plate of food and another beer. The owner and his son were very friendly, as were the other locals there. Jules and Paul from England started speaking to me and they were delighted to give me advice about where I might get bike spares as well as telling me how much they loved living in this area now for twenty or more years.
The puncture repair was going to wait until the morning I needed sleep. I went to bed happy in the knowledge that I could be in Tarifa in a few days if I kept up my momentum and had a bike that worked…
8/10/25 Ventas de Zafarraya to Antequera
In the morning I had taken Paul’s advice and stayed on the pavement as much as the route allowed me. Riding was still nothing short of nerve wracking as the wafer thin, lightweight inner tube looked like it would burst if I sneezed whilst riding on it! Also it had taken me and one of the staff from the bar to get the tire back on the rim after putting it in. I was sure that we would rip the inner tube because of the force we were needing to apply in order to fold the tire bead in. At this point I realised that I simply would not have managed to do this on my own. Another puncture at any point on the route would have been catastrophic and I dread to think what the solution might be.
For almost the entire day I focused almost entirely on the immediate yard or so in front of me, looking for any stones, small potholes or any sort of sharp objects. Every hour or so I carefully pumped up my tires to maintain a healthy but not too high tire pressure. This was exhausting and incredibly stressful so it was a relief to pull into the friendly town of Villanueva del Trabuco for lunch. As I came out of the supermercado I spotted a local woman tearing around on a mountain bike with no seat! I managed to catch up with her and in between balancing my lunch on the bars of my bike asked her if she knew of any bike shops. Quick as a flash she ordered me to follow here. We nipped in and out of traffic and pedestrians then rode up a steep wee street to a couple of shops. My phone was half grabbed from me and used to check our location then she used it to try and phone the shop that we were standing outside. Her gestures confirmed that they were indeed ‘cerado’. I thanked her and she pretty much disappeared as quickly as she had appeared in the square!
After gathering up my purchases and finishing my lunch I started what I hoped was going to be a lush ride, downhill to Antequera. No such luck. After three or four miles I was back onto gravel and very soon pushing my bike through undergrowth on a hidden trail of singletrack. My Garmin and Komoot both confirmed that this was the way so I just got on with it. At one point I had to hang my bike on a woobly fence then get myself over it and extract the bike without ripping my clothes or causing another puncture. Shortly after this I topped out and then enjoyed a bumpy and swooping descent towards some very posh looking farm buildings. I was then confronted by a very substantial and locked gate right on my route. For less than two seconds I thought about what to do. I then proceeded to somehow get my bike hanging on the top strands of an 8 foot fence then get across it myself.
For a while I pushed through the vineyard parallel to the track I wanted to be on. There did not appear to be an access gate. Then I spotted a weakness in the fence where it looked like others had also had to get over it. This time it was a lot more difficult and I did end up ripping my windstopper. So I was riding again but what if I met a farmer, or another big locked gate at the end of it. Once I got to the main road I could breath a sigh of relief and I rolled into Antequera by 4:00 pm. Antequera was a lovely town and my hotel was near an ancient square and church. I had a few beers and enjoyed taking some photos with my RETO film camera. Over the last couple of years I have been having fun using compact digital cameras. Unfortunately I seem to have a tendency to rattle them into destruction! So for a change and to give my wallet a rest I thought that I would try out this little 35mm camera. It has fixed focus, no flash or battery so it is super light and simple to use for street photography and some landscape shots. On this ride I rationed myself to a couple of shots a day. I really liked the fact that you had to think carefully about composition and had no idea what the finished shot would look like.
Before heading for dinner I visited a bike shop to buy some ‘full fat’ inner tubes and three more tire levers. The owner was friendly and was interested in my route. When I told him I was heading for Ronda he did not give much away other than it would effectively be the crux… little did I know!
9/10/25 Antequera to El Burgo
This ride went as planned in the end. I had kept the option of pushing on to Ronda as an option but it was apparent in the afternoon that a good night of sleep was more important. I recognised Ardales from a family holiday to this beautiful region a couple of years ago. In the older part of this town I found some benches and actually managed to get a 20 minute nap after lunch. It was nice to meet some Spanish bikepackers who seemed very interested in the route I was following. Like so many other things in life, often when you are right in the middle of something you aren’t always aware of its significance. Riding from one end of a country to the other, through remote mountain trails, forest and farmlands is actually a long way!
The last big climb of 1500 ft over 5 miles was an absolute delight. The gradient was gentle, the trail smooth and the scenery beautiful. The sun definitely was lower in the sky these days so the light as I descended to El Burgo gave me a lovely feeling of contentment. I got a room in a lovely old hotel. There I did my usual things like resupply, laundry and I even had time to speak with my wife. Darkness was definitely coming in earlier now that I was in the far south of the country and it was not long until I could see the stars twinkling above me as I walked across the street to a bar for dinner. By now my ‘bar room’ Spanish was good enough for maybe three different sentences! The young bartender and his friend were very friendly and gave me lots of advice about tomorrow’s route as well as sharing stories of their adventures running and skiing in the mountains. By now I was totally used to the open, friendly nature of folk that I met on this wonderful route. I can only hope that a visitor to my home country of Scotland would also experience this in the way I had.
11/10/25 El Burgo to Jimena de la Frontera
Well this was a day to remember! I got away from my hotel well before sunrise and endured the usual dog barking until out of and above the village. Naively I hoped that this first climb was going to be like the delightful one I had yesterday afternoon - no way. After a couple of hours climbing above a dried riverbed the route diverted from a dirt road onto waymarked singletrack, or walking path. Everything was cool: I was on route, it was not raining, it was not windy and it was not too cold. However the way forward was completely unrideable. This was not Andy the event organisers fault. Simply the reality of linking up sections of a route in order to create a longer more memorable experience. All I can say is that I am going to be forever glad that I did not decide to push forward and attempt this climb in the dark!
There were sections where I had to push the bars with one arm and straight-arm the other one on my seatpost. I repeatedly had to lift my front wheel onto rocks that were the height of a kitchen table. Then hold it on the brakes. Then scramble up onto the rocks to get level and then push on. My upper body was knackered and my riding shoes were absolutely useless on the loose, rocky terrain. All the time I was aware that a puncture here was going to be horrendous. For the second time in my bikepacking I found myself actually enjoying this crazy situation because despite the difficulty I was making forward progress. These experiences are unforgettable and it is a privilege to be able to have them.
Before the blissful descent to Ronda I had one last fence adventure whilst crossing a pretty skanky farmyard. From a few hundred yards away I spotted the usual big, skinny, mean looking guard dog amongst a flock of sheep. The size of this mastiff's head made me decide to stay on the other side of the fence and walk around the whole farmyard. That seemed to be working until I started to hear the blood curdling roar of another dog but the problem was I could not see where it was. When I did spot it I realised that I had to cross the fence and risk being in the main compound. So over went the bike and over went Jim with a new rip in his top. I now felt vulnerable as I had the big dog and the possibility that the louder one would get in as well. When I saw the farmer tending the sheep I breathed a sigh of relief. He acknowledged me and even called over ‘Amigo’ when I tried to climb over the exit gate and motioned to one that actually had a latch!
Ronda was a complete 180 degrees from my morning. The CP was on the famous bridge and I did struggle to get my photo due to the volume of ‘Zombie-tourists’ lurching around. Around the corner I found a little oasis of peace and quiet where I could have some food, a few coffees and wifi so that I could wish my other daughter a happy birthday. My lunch was very enjoyable and the staff there were lovely. The waiter who was about my age totally understood my excitement of getting to speak to my family. The younger one behaved as if I was speaking a completely foreign language and as a result I had two glasses of the most expensive, freshly squeezed orange juice instead of Fanta!
The second half of my day simply had to work whether I liked it or not. Some of the most memorable parts were riding past ‘Cave of the Cat’ which I had visited previously with my family. Committing to the 5 miles of singletrack in the gorge above the railway where there were sections that I simply did not want to fall. Dirtbagging outside a supermarket by sitting on some pallets and eating absolutely whatever I wanted regardless of the time of day.
It was dark when I arrived at the campsite but not too late in order to have a mountain of food and some beers before retiring to a lovely camp spot surrounded by hedges.
12/10/25 Jemina de la Frontera to Tarifa
So I wanted a later start today as it was supposed to be a more straightforward one. The campsite cafe was absolutely rammed as they were hosting over 100 local hunters for an event. It felt quite bizarre to be there, on my own in my brightly colored riding kit amongst all these camo-clad hunters.
Unsurprisingly it felt SO hot! Every now and then the route would reach high points above the treeline and I would get glimpses of the iconic Rock of Gibraltar. It felt cool to finally be able to look at the Med.
A couple of times I found myself pedaling up climbs with road cyclists out for a day ride. They were friendly but one group did feel a little uncomfortable for some of them to have been overtaken on a road climb by this scruffy bikepacker on a loaded hardtail.
I deliberately did not look at my progress on my Garmin until well after lunch. An old trail built by WW 2 prisoners of war was the most challenging part of the afternoon for me as it was always just about uphill with very little flat.
Before I knew it I was riding on a cycle track in Tarifa heading for the sea shore. Way off in the distance I spotted the final CP which is a big sculpture of a tuna fish. The sense of achievement when I got there was incredible. I had managed myself, my bike and my gear to the best of my ability too. Right from the start I had been determined to finish this route and not go off too hard. Although the last rider in I had ridden faster than many it’s just that I did a lot of sightseeing too! This has worked and I was proud of this. I would like to thank my wife and family for giving me the support and encouragement all the way. Al and Ian for sharing their incredible biking knowledge with me in preparation, during and afterwards. Also to Jaime and his wife for their close care when in Spain and finally all the other friends of mine who kept me going whether it was a message to me or a link to a playlist.
The Iberica Traversa 2025
Irun to Pamplona 54miles/6650ft
Pamplona to Bardenas Reales 77/4850
Bardeas Reales to Moina de Aragon 177/14675
Molina de Aragon to Cuenca 119/10550
Cuenca to Castillo de Alarcon 50/2725
Castillo de Alarcon to El Cuartico 58/1630
El Cuartico to Gorafe Desert 195/20025
Gorafe Desert to Granada 87/8625
Granada to Antequera 93/9650
Antequera to Caminito del Rey 20/2925
Caminito del Rey to Ronda 42/6225
Ronda to Tariffa 106/7825
1075 miles/98425 feet elevation
18 days plus 2 zero days
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