Transpyr: A coast-to-coast adventure through the Spanish Pyrenees
As I mounted my freshly built bicycle in Roses, and darted off for a pre-challenge ride along the Catalonian coast, I knew I was in for a treat. My legs begged to differ as they were rudely awoken by coastal hills, but it was hard to worry when we arrived in Cadaques. The sun was setting behind stone walled houses and the sea rhythmically lapped pale, gritty shores. White boats rocked wearily at the edges as we gathered seawater in small bottles; a tradition of coast-to-coast cyclists.
Etappe 1: A game of two halves
The weather apparently decided that our first full day wasn’t difficult enough with a mere 149km ahead of us, so it kindly started the morning with 30-degree burning skies followed by a tropical storm of epic proportions on the last climb. Rain poured in sheets and lightning bolts hit mountains either side of me. The scenario was unnerving, but actually rather beautiful. Finishing up in the quaint village of Camprodon with a full river rushing through the center was something special, but negotiating wet cobbles in clipless shoes proved a little treacherous.
Etappe 2: Queen of the Mountains
Day two was hailed as the Queen stage for beauty and stature. The sun toasted our backs as we grimaced up the Coll de Pradell, a mountain 1,734m high with lingering 23% gradients. The climb teased us with false summits, but I found a rhythm and zigzagged my way up slowly. With every great climb comes a great reward, and for us that was the view over a single turquoise lake nestled in the mountains. A sight as breathtaking as the ascent itself.
When arriving in La Seu de Urgell, I was immediately grateful to be a part of the Transpyr Road experience. The food was laid out ready and my bags were waiting for me in the hotel. I stuffed as much food into my face as humanly possible and slipped off to bed before 9pm. I’d earned my sleep.
Etappe 3: Float like a butterfly
The third journey was along a stream of tarmac wrapped snuggly around four mountains. The roads dipped in and out of the rock via short tunnels and hugged the mountainside smoothly enough to make even the most inexperienced of descenders feel like they were flying. Vegetation was green and lush, and butterflies of all colours and sizes came to greet us. We were close to large roads, but felt a million miles away from civilization. That was until the final dip back into El Pont de Suert, where Evenia Olympic Park and Europe’s largest rafting river greeted us.
Etappe 4: Worlds apart
Out of the bustling metropolis we reached the mid-way point. The center of Spain is hot and dry and the scenery is less like the traditional green mountains of the Pyrenees and more like scenes from the Wild West. But the filmscapes didn’t end there. Out of the pale dusty plains and up Torrelisa we were greeted by dark grey lunar landscapes, and volcanic cliff faces as black as the tarmac we were riding on.
The mountains were much gentler here. Short undulations gave the legs and arms a rest from the long ascents and descent. The finishing line in Ainsa ended the day on one final film-like backdrop; an ancient stone cobbled village perched on top of a hill, overlooking a wide river that separated the mountains.
Etappe 5: Away with the Fairies
A short stint along the main road led us to a traffic-free route that meandered up Fanlo, my favourite mountain of the journey. The gradient was gentle and we skirted around the edges with raw chiseled rock faces on one side and a drop to crystal clear waters on the other. Round-leafed trees jutted out from cliff faces to offer twinkling protection from the sun. Butterflies frolicked gently in the breeze, with only the sound of our tyres and the river below us to break the peace. The warmth of the sun caused tubes of steam to rise from moss-covered bridges exposed to direct rays. I half expected to see some fairies and pixies around the next turn.
Pine forests and a few gritty, broken roads later greeted us on our journey to Jaca, a typical tourist destination full of cafes and bustle. A world away from the day we had just encountered.
Etappe 6: The Big Day
Out of the city, we were treated to a very rural beginning. Dipping into Bask country was like going back in time. The quaint villages and ancient languages amidst colourful fields reminded me of rural Wales, although on a much larger (and hotter) scale.
With 170km to ride and 3,100m of mountain climbing ahead, the day promised to be the hardest of all. We covered four mountain passes before hitting the biggest; Pto de Larrau. On the map, the profile of the mountain looked almost vertical. On the day, the gradient became an obstacle second to the weather. A cloud engulfed the top half of the mountain, creating a very chilly whiteout. Thankfully Transpyr were on hand at the top of the pass, dishing out newspapers to stuff down our jackets for the frosty descent ahead. At the foot of the mountain, we couldn’t resist popping into the town of Ochagavia to reward ourselves with a thick shot of molten hot chocolate to warm up before heading on our way to Roncesvalles.
Etappe 7: The Finale
The last day was spectacular. It certainly wanted us to remember what we would miss when we finished. We weaved in and out of Hobbit-like valleys, through patchwork fields draped over hundreds of mountains and through crowds of pretty beige cattle. We even popped over to France via Artesiaga, then cycled via the Harbour to catch a ferry back to Spain for the finish line in Hondarribia; an old town peppered with churches, littered with tourists and accented by a large castle looking out to sea.
As the lights dimmed and twinkled on the water, Transpyr treated us to barbequed sardines on the coast accompanied by local cider. We poured our small bottles of Mediterranean water into the Atlantic Ocean, and the challenge was complete. I’m not sure if I could have finished the challenge without the Transpyr organisers, but I definitely feel the urge to revisit at least a few of the locations we blasted through, and I recommend that you do too.
