Following a day on familiar and much loved roads on day two, our third day offered a chance to explore new roads and climbs, and everyone knows I love exploring. Being based further east and north along the coast, and without a range of hills in the way we were now offered the opportunity to sample what lay further afield to the north.
Roll-out
Slight downside would be the weather conditions. As, while it was set fair, sunny and warm, we’d face a nagging head/crosswind for the first hour or so as we took the direct route northwards. Much of this was through Denia and other towns on what would be A or B roads in the UK, but they were broad, not particularly busy and furnished with well-surfaced cycle lanes for the most part.
Still we could sit in the shelter afforded by Richard and Maddy for the majority, feigning ignorance of the road layout or simply lack of fitness until we were able to turn off into the relative comfort of the camis.
At Oliva we turned west and inland onto some distinctly more lumpy terrain, but we weren’t to hit the big stuff before finding yet another quiet town square complete with water fountain and a cafe. The young man serving us coffee spoke better English than most of us, but he couldn’t produce cake so we made do with packets of chocolate chip cookies.
Refreshment stop
Suitably refreshed, rehydrated and refortified we hit the main climb of the day – Villalonga. Richard had tried to describe it, but having now ridden it I understand why it was hard to describe as it has multiple personalities. Steep, smooth and suburban at the foot, before the scenery gives way to pine forest after a stoneworks. After that the gradient and surface fluctuated, a bit like Ditchling Beacon without the traffic, making it hard to get into any rhythm, but the summit afforded a chance to rest and regroup.
Not that we were now descending as having wended our way through a collection of houses, they, the forest and the lane gave way to a broad, 2-lane Armco-lined highway. It also began heading upwards again, similar to yesterday in a series of lumps, albeit not so extreme, but without the downhills in between.
At the true summit we caught our breath and prepared for what Richard had disturbingly referred to as “suicide hill”. It probably wasn’t that steep, but it sure was twisty and there was little besides large stone blocks to prevent a disappearance into a steep ravine for anyone foolish enough to take their hands off the brakes for too long!
Having all survived to tell the tale we wended our way back part way out of that valley via some beautiful orchards, then turned left onto a bigger road for a fast sweeping descent of many miles back towards our lunch stop.
Not before a slight detour, as we were passing the start of a climb due to be used for the first time in La Vuelta this year having just been resurfaced especially. Richard wanted us to sample a little of what the professionals would have to tackle. I winched myself up to the second 20% hairpin before my hunger for food overcame my curiosity.
Heading home
I’d stopped in Pego for refreshments before, but always approached from the other direction, had trouble with the one way system and never been blessed with sunshine before. It was a delight to find a quiet, sunny square with pollarded plane trees so typical to this region to sit and share our tostadas before hitting the ring-road out.
Just as on our previous two days there would be but one minor climb to conquer before we were back floating through the camis, this time enjoying the wind at our backs. Alas I had underfuelled for the day and we had long passed 100km by the time we returned to Denia. I thus joined Graham in trickling back up to the villa while the others stopped for a beer, or two, at the bar part way up the last climb. Still, another fabulous and memorable day in the saddle.