Nervous anticipation, cinching up the bags at the shared Airbnb before the start on day one. By day eight, it’s old hat. Everything is a bit more worn and weathered. My skin included. The Andalusian mountains and desert feel the same. Old and worn-down from centuries of oppressive heat, ripping winds, and the storms that pop up out of nowhere. These lands feel tired and barren. But somehow riding here feels like a favorite pair of broken-in jeans. From the first day I can already tell I’m gonna love this place. This is Badlands.
Throw your leg over the bike. Pedal. The usual eat, drink, navigate. Smile; we get to do this.
Every day was something new. Every 40km we’d roll through a different landscape. Forever long climbs, and sweeping descents. They all weave together as some of us plot our way along the route and others off. The nature of the choose your own adventure rally gives way for natural separation and modification. For me, I wanted to stay as true to the route as possible. Knowing how hard David and the Badlands race crew work to scout, create, and link together these tracks, and the modifications they made for the rally, I didn’t want to deviate.
Any one of these days would’ve been a top 10 day on the bike. But seven strung together? It was just epically mind blowing. This has absolutely been my favorite life experience thus far. Thankful for the opportunity and for the 75 other humans who I got to share this adventure with.
——
The energy at the start was quickly quieted with the steeeeeep climb out of Granada. And it just kept going and going. And going. I stopped to help with a derailleur issue on the way up, and with a flat tire on the next descent.
Day one and we’re already modifying due to a nasty thunderstorm. Hunkering down in a bar with an overwhelmed owner, we plot our next move. A few of us coordinate an accommodation 19km further down the route. Riding in the tail end of the storm to a cave hotel, we arrive, wet rats, and work on ourselves and our gear to prepare for tomorrow. The owner gives us a ride to town for dinner.
A brisk foggy morning kicks off day two, where Diana, Sara and I stop early on for a coffee and tostada from a nice bar owner and his dog. I embrace the chill, knowing we are heading to the desert. I embrace the road, knowing we’re heading for chunk. And most of all, I embrace the company. We roll into Gorafe and fuel up for the challenge ahead. There’s a steep road climb out of the city and up to the top of the Gorafe desert canyon. We see this little finger on the large map and calculate there’s probably less than a km between the start and the finish.
“Let’s ditch the bags behind that antenna area. It’s only 3 hours on a Sunday, no one will notice.”
And it was glorious. We got to rip the descents, carve the dry riverbed single track and not totally hate our lives on the climb back out. Noodle back to the stash pile, cinch up and roll out.
Following the stunning desert loop was the best techie single track of the route! The remainder of the day led to some proper Kansas suffering – 2% uphill grade on an old railroad with loose crushed gravel in the heat of the day. Oh and don’t forget about the headwind. But yet my smile persisted. A smile as bright as the sun. So many flashed during the day, I’m sure to get tan lines in my dimples and wrinkles.
We arrived to the city of Gor; a site for sore eyes. I recognized the area from the Badlands race coverage and it totally lived up to the hype. Enough so, we ended up staying an extra day due to another dangerous storm rolling on the upcoming ridgeline and high point of the route. The rally organizers told us to take a rest day down low. A zero day on day three wasn’t on the list of expectations, and I was a bit nervous about the condensed schedule and how much more daily mileage we’d need to average to make it to Felix on Friday night.
We fed ourselves, and secured our accommodations from the same person. Gaetan aka The Mayor. He loves his town and he loves the Badlands race. His bar serves up warm food and cold drinks. Coffee too. Diana, Sophie and I all manage to stay at his home, for €20/bed. Sold.
The zero day was filled with fun activities, an alley cat race, resupply at the grocery store, Collin’s birthday festivities and sadly for the girls staying in the bar, a late night for the locals.
The following day had the longest climb, and also reached the highest point on our route. We woke early, gave one last farewell to The Mayor, filled up at the fountains and headed up. And up. And up.
I had 3L of water strapped on for the long haul between resupply. Chop wood. Carry water. Up and across this beautiful mountain ridge line. To the observatory we go! Even after an asthma attack and 3 hours of climbing, I’m shocked my spirits are so high. We reach the top, bundle up, and head down a fun gravel logging road.
What unfolded below us was the greatest perfectly paved winding descent I’ve ever witnessed. And we got to absolutely rail it. Car free?! How is this real life? We reached the bar at the bottom and just basked in the glory of the morning, refueling for the push ahead to knock out some more mileage on the condensed schedule.
It was nearing sunset when we reached our goal destination only to be disappointed to find the bar was closed. A nice man opened his tiny ice cream stand and we got some snacks as we attempted to figure out our next move. After speaking with some locals, we were guided to the town’s 1923 bath house. A modern roof and three walls were recently added and thus, our sleep spot was secured! We all bathed in the freezing trough water, shared a bottle of wine, and cooked our random camp dinners.
A downhill start to second breakfast, a mid-morning snack, fun photos with Ashley Gruber, and a long afternoon lunch in a seaside town made for a long push on day four. Helped another gal with my chain breaker and spare quick link while we ate.
We roll out with a little less pep in our step. The hot climb to the lighthouse destroyed me. My lungs were suffering from the day two desert sand and day three mountain assent. The views were breathtaking, and so too was my asthma.
I got to the top, collapsed into a corner of shade, took a puff of my inhaler along with a mini pity-party. If I had a low moment on the trip, this was it. Two minutes. Got up, mounted my bike, and descended to the beach, with my friends. We had a hoot-hollering time rolling into Cabo de Gato. We’d been dreaming of jumping in the sea all day. Dropped the bikes, stripped down, and ran towards the refreshing Mediterranean waters.
*****
Going from such a low moment, to one of the best on the trip is a fascinating transformation of emotion. “This too shall pass” is accelerated on tour. Yet it feels almost impossible to reach a low, low. Resupplies appear. The views are incredible. The surfaces are varied. The company is lovely. The variation from moment to moment makes boredom seem impossible. There just isn’t time for your brain to check out.
****
We set up camp at a closed down beach bar, seemingly perfect. Pitched the tents on the beach and patio, and pushed together the tables for a festive group dinner. Unfortunately our new home was also the residence of a feral cat colony and a few of us had our shelters sprayed. A very noisy cat fight, right as we were going to bed, was quite the nighttime entertainment. Suffice to say, none of us slept well.
Day five started slow, with the infamous Badlands beach walk and then a stop for more caffeine and second breakfast. As we said goodbye to the sea, we said hello again to the mountains and a big climb back inland. One solid resupply before a massive push. Coke, bananas, my leftover sandwich, a water refill and off I went. My pace. I was solo by this point and in a groove.
Who am I, enjoying climbing? With a self-diagnosed allergy and aversion to climbing, this was a new feeling. I got to the top and was just so thrilled. I experienced an elation similar to the ones I get descending. I used to say I only go up so I can go down. Now, instead of dread and pain pushed into every pedal stroke, it’s love and strength.
Mia, Isabel, and I rolled into Santa Fe and to a hostel we had booked by calling ahead from the previous town. We got an actual home for €15/person and it had a washing machine! What a luxury on day five. I was happy to not pull out the cat pee bivy and sleep in a bed.
I woke eager to get rolling. The condensed schedule made for a long last push on the final full day of riding to get to Felix. There was talk of short cuts, but as we headed into the second desert and final major climb, I knew I had it in me to finish this route as written. It still felt unbelievable that my spirits were so high, considering how low my TrainingPeaks fatigue score was. (Hello -133!)
The heat of the day will come, so I just embraced the solo cool quiet morning miles, heading up a sandy canyon. Another resupply, tostada, coffee, coke and water refill and out for another canyon climb loop and then a super fun sandy canyon descent to ice cream and a Fanta and friends! Maybe I should’ve eaten more, and actually looked at the profile ahead, but also the blind approach somehow worked.
Pam, Collins, Emily and I rolled out together and up the final major climb on the route. We were with Rue for a bit, winding our way up this beast. It was hot and dry and should’ve been life sucking. But with each pedal stroke I felt stronger. I didn’t question why, I just kept smiling and embracing and thanking my body and mind for what we were accomplishing. A quick stop at the top and down I went. Descending into Felix and the final night on tour.
We were welcomed with lukewarm showers and a delicious food and snack spread from the Komoot team. Dinner followed and most of us piled into the community center for a final night of sleep.
One more climb. One more descent. The chunkiest of the trip. Not intended for loaded gravel bikes. Would’ve been fun to rip on a full suspension mtb. Stopped midway to pump my rear tire as I felt a couple rim shots too many. Helped another pump her’s too. Isabel destroyed her rim, and a few others had multiple flats. When we thought it’d be an easy day into Almería, the route bit back. There is no easy day in Badlands.
We were greeted to ripping winds and a sandblasting at the beach. Not quite the (second) jump into the sea we all dreamed of. Got the bike packed up. Took a quick sink shower, had one last goodbye drink with a few friends, and headed to the airport.
****
What an incredible journey. So daunting and overwhelming. Lots of prep work, a little training, and a trusty steed. Just pedal, eat, and drink every day. Smile. We get to do this. Thankful. Grateful. Heart FULL. (Legs empty but that’s okay.) This is my Badlands experience.
Here’s my bike setup if you’re curious!
- Frame: 3T Exploro Ultra – size 51
- Drivetrain: SRAM AXS Force/Eagle mullet – 165 crank, 38T, 10-52 cassette
- Wheelset: HUNT – Front – Carbon 25 w/ SON+ Dynamo hub, Rear – 42 Limitless
- Tires: Schwalbe G-One RS 700×40
- Saddle: Fizik Vento Argo R1
- Handlebar Tape: Fizik Microtex Classic 2mm – Honey
- Handlebar/Stem: 3T 38c-c Bar, 80×6 stem
- Pedals: Shimano XTR
- Shoes: Fizik Ferrox & Birkenstocks!
- BAGS: All are Apidura – Bolt-On top tube pack for snacks. Expedition Full Frame Pack – 6L for stove, gas, toiletries, repair kit, first aid kit, and 1.5L Apidura hydration bladder. Expedition Handlebar Pack – bivy, sleeping pad, liner. Accessory Pocket – electronics, food, cooking gear. 2x Backcountry Food Pouch – one for a bottle with electrolytes. Another for random things. Expedition Saddle Pack 17L – All the clothes / kit and down quilt.
- Helmet & Glasses: Kask Protone Icon, Koo Alibi w/Magenta photochromic mirror lens
- Kit: Velocio Luxe bibs x3, Velocio Concept Merino long and short sleeve jerseys, 2x wool socks, 1x winter wool socks for sleeping. Velocio Trail Access Hardshell jacket. Velocio Rain Gloves
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