Experiencing life on a bicycle is something different. Turn nature into a playground where one, even for a brief moment, goes back to childhood, that magical and lucid moment where humans retain the wonderful ability to enjoy things by the fact of doing them. A sense of omnipotence and freedom encourages you to immerse yourself fully in the addictive world of exploration. Everything is faster, more immediate, more intense ... It is the cheapest adventure and the simplest way to feel alive.
The Ara Valley
The jubilation multiplies if you are also lucky enough to do it in the Ara Valley.
Located in the Sobrarbe region - which occupies the north of Huesca to the border and whose population density is slightly higher than that of Lapland - The valley is a landscape of medieval reverie. The mountains are covered by a dark and thick mantle of black pine, carrasco, beech and birch forests from which only some abandoned villages quietly emerge.
The threats of a dam emptied them back in the 50s and now, while the brambles and the land from which they once emerged call them back, they seem to wait expectantly and melancholy for the return of the inhabitants that someday lit them. Perhaps today only witches and fairies keep them company.
Route 1: abandoned villages, Romanesque villages and green forests (Torre de Morcat - Jánovas - Fiscal - Boltaña)
We climb the winding track in search of the morcat tower that is presented to us as a distant promise high in the valley. I go peacefully uploaded to my electric bicycle. This wonder, demonized by purists, opens the gates of paradise to apostates. The mountain is reserved only for titanic athletes and the pleasure that its slopes offer welcomes everyone. With 4 different levels of help you choose how much you want to suffer, and the energy saved is transformed into an eagerness to explore the places that open to the step in the tireless search for exciting descents.
Upon reaching the summit, ten centuries of history prostrate before us. The Romanesque church of Morcat It still boasts of figure. Within its ruins centuries-old rites reverberate between the columns and vaults in perfect condition. In the background the Pyrenean peaks, crowned by Lost Mount, They watch us motionless. The landscape is overwhelming.
From the bucolic meadow where you rest, this forgotten village begins the descents between meadows and trails pulled by the Pyrenees, always decorating the scene. You scream with joy while the fresh air hits your face.