Albarracín

October 12, 2023

Today’s ride is considerably more interesting than yesterday’s. I start out the day anxious about it though because I’m feeling somewhat light-headed in the morning after breakfast. I had a mild arrythmia episode last night, the first in two weeks, so I wonder how the ride is going to go. We start out slowly and cautiously though, and I’m fine. Maybe too much coffee?

The ride begins by backtracking the final six miles that we rode yesterday, but when we reach the spot where the road construction project concerned us yesterday, we turn west toward Albarracin. At first we’re still in the campos and biking across the plain again, but gradually climbing as we head toward the mountains. I love the dramatic feeling of rides like this where the high country gradually swells in front of you as you approach it.

Heading west toward Albarracín. The mountains in the distance are the front edge of the Iberian System, the irregular, complex formation that extends south from Burgos to Valencia.

The Teruel airport reminds me of the Boneyard in Tucson, with all those planes densely clustered in the desert.

As yesterday, overpasses give us our best view until we reach the mountains.

The view north back toward Monreal del Campos, too far distant to see from here.

Another sheep drive, the third in three days. This one is huge, a three dog drive.

After thirteen miles of steady but easy climbing we finally top out and stop to admire a dramatic view before we plunge down into it. We’re looking down into the canyon of the Guadalaviar River, which we’ve been following at a distance all morning. The river rises about 20 miles west of Albarracín near the border between Aragón and Castile-La Mancha. The border is more or less a continental divide, with the great Tajo River originating just a few miles south of here and beginning its long journey west to Madrid and on to Lisbon and the Atlantic Ocean.

A fantastic view down into the Guadalaviar Canyon. That’s our road cutting across the center of the frame. We’ll enjoy it considerably more today than when we bike back to Teruel, I’m sure.

It’s a wonderful descent down to the river, and then we gradually start climbing again as we follow it through its twisted gorge for the rest of the way to Albarracín. It’s a beautiful ride and we see many bikers going the other way, likely day riders out from Teruel. The big surprise though is the traffic, which is much heavier than we’d expected until Rachael reminds me it’s a national holiday.

The traffic discourages us from stopping too frequently, but the other thing that keeps us moving forward is the fact that we’re time boxed by a restaurant reservation Rachael made for us. And it’s a good thing we have a reservation, because with all of these cars streaming toward Albarracín we could have trouble finding an empty table.

Up the Guadalaviar. Dramatic every mile of the way to Albarracín.

The scenery gets more dramatic the further into the mountains we bike.

This is one of the most evocatively horrifying memorials I can recall seeing. I speculate on what might be happening here until I look at the plaque next to it.

It’s a memorial placed about a decade ago to men shot by Franco’s forces ninety years ago. There must be countless sites like this around Spain, places people could only whisper about for decades.

The ruins of Santa Croce Castillo (13th century) rise right from the road. It would be a short but steep climb to it if we had the time.

Video sound track: The Best Is Yet To Come (feat. Patti LaBelle), by Grover Washington Jr.

When we round the final bend and get our first view of Albarracín, it’s obvious why so many people have been streaming up here. Albarracín has a reputation as one of the most scenic towns in Spain, if not the most scenic.

Albarracín. We’ll see much more of it later, but this will give you a flavor.

So that’s one thing that’s quickly obvious. The other thing that’s obvious although most folks probably won’t pick up on it is that it’s a pretty terrible place to bring a bicycle. It’s all cobblestones, steep streets, stone staircases, and confusing navigation problems that are all the worse for pushing your loaded bike up a steep alley through a crowd, trying to decide if we’re really supposed to be going up those stairs in front of us or not.

Parts of it possibly will qualify as Type 2 Fun, and we’ll enjoy reflecting on them some year far in the future. Possibly; but the least bad parts only though.

Does this count as Type 2 Fun? Time will tell.

We arrived in Albarracín with plenty of time to make our lunch date, or so we thought. We’re only about three blocks from the restaurant, but it takes us twenty difficult and stressful minutes finding our way there. It’s just opening when we arrive, lean our bikes against a stone wall outside, and are seated just as the cathedral bells chime out that it’s one.

So that was difficult. Finding our room is worse. As it turns out, even though the restaurant is only three blocks from our B&B it’s no small challenge finding our way there. At one point I watch the bikes while Rachael climbs the stairs to see if she can find our room. She finds it, and then phones me with a somewhat panicky sound to her voice because she can’t find her way back because the Garmin isn’t tracking well. But then suddenly, here she is popping out of the lower street. No stairs required!

Until we push our bikes up the street, stopping finally because we can’t find the place again and then realize we’re standing exactly in front of it, down at the bottom of a double set of stairs. Good news, bad news. So we unload the bikes and I carry them down the stairs while she brings the luggage.

Our host is in fortunately, but it’s awkward because we have no common language. She gets out her phone as a translator though, and starts by assuring us that there’s a place for the bikes. Another good news, bad news story, because the access to it is through the back side of her house - meaning we have to carry the bikes back up the stairs we just brought them down, wheel them around the corner, and then take them down a different set of stairs.

So is our room up those stairs, or down the lower street? Our Garmin has a terrible time navigating through here.

Finally though, we’re in. We’re staying in a remarkable spot with a stunning view across the canyon, with tables and chairs outside where I can sit, recover, and wonder if all those raptors souring above the cliffs are all just Griffon vultures again or if maybe one’s a golden eagle.

But that’s it, for the moment at least. Albarracín itself can wait just a bit.

The approach to our room, in that structure just beyond these rickety planks.

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Keith AdamsThat profile looks like it'll be (mostly) a treat when you're headed the opposite direction in a few days.
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6 months ago

Ride stats today: 24 miles, 1,400’; for the tour: 1,080 miles, 38,000’

Today's ride: 24 miles (39 km)
Total: 1,070 miles (1,722 km)

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Suzanne GibsonWhat an ordeal getting to your room! If we ever follow your route, I know where not to sleep. I'm sure Albarracin is going to be worth the effort,though.
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6 months ago

Rachael AndersonTo Suzanne GibsonActually, the town itself is beautiful but being here on a long weekend is a bad time. It’s very crowded and hard to find a restaurant. Also the walk we took from here was very disappointing. Today I’m going the other direction toward Gea de Albarracin where the colorful rock is. Hopefully that will be better hiking. The most colorful area is on the busy road into Albarracin.
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6 months ago