Gravel biking in Morocco: 1,001 metres of altitude

We both just stood there, slightly perplexed and almost naked, crammed into a hot, dark, stuffy room. The steam was so thick that you could barely see your hand before your eyes. A short, round Moroccan woman came in and gesticulated: ‘Bathrobes off!’ Luca had insisted on keeping his boxers on. I – clueless as ever – had thought to myself: ‘It’s definitely going to get wet, so I may as well take them off now.’ Slightly embarrassed, I turned around and took off my bathrobe. Suddenly there was a scream behind me: ‘No, no, no!’ Luca looked at me, shocked and embarrassed. The sight of my bare, pale bottom made the poor woman flee the steam room. Then, the door opened a crack and a hand shoved two small pairs of briefs into our hands. We put them on and the hammam treatment could finally begin. First, we were smeared and rubbed down with a brown, sticky soap paste using sandpaper-like gloves, then rinsed down with hot water. Luckily, this was followed by the well-deserved massage that we had so been looking forward to: almost 500 kilometres and 7,000 metres of altitude spread over six wonderful days had brought us back here over dusty slopes, high pass roads and through magnificent landscapes. Back to the Medina (old town) in the middle of Marrakech, from where we had departed.

A father-and-son adventure

Sunshine, barren landscapes, empty roads, adventure – these were the ingredients that my 15-year-old son Luca and I were looking for on our winter trip together. We wanted to get away and escape the winter for a cycling adventure. I’m very lucky that my son enjoys cycling as much as I do. Last year we explored the wild west coast of Scotland together for ten days, also on two wheels, and with very little luggage. When Luca was eleven, I took him out of school for six months and we went on a trip around the world, taking only two backpacks, my camera equipment and Luca’s school books. Two years ago we started riding racing bikes and quickly discovered bikepacking, but mostly on gravel bikes. These are essentially bikes with racing handlebars, thick tyres and large gear ratios. What’s important is to travel as light as possible – the less you bring, the faster you can ride.

We had packed everything we needed for our bike tour in Morocco – a tent, sleeping bags, cooking equipment and clothes – in several bags attached to our bikes. I also had a heavy camera backpack on my back. Our bikes, including the luggage and a litre of water each, weighed just 16 kilograms. We have never travelled lighter. However, travelling so light also means having to make compromises: we only had our bike shoes with us, as there was no space for another pair. When it came to clothing, we followed the onion principle: two pairs of cycling trousers, short-sleeved jerseys, a light, long-sleeved jacket and a lined cycling jacket each, as well as a wind and waterproof GORE-TEX® jacket for the coldest days. We also took a few leg warmers and a pair of long GORE-TEX® trousers to protect us against the wind.

Bikepacking is the perfect way to get around a country: you see a lot, you can cover a lot of distance and you also get your money’s worth in terms of sport. And you can be completely self-sufficient by taking only a few things.

Morocco’s strenuous side

After the first night in Marrakech we finally set off: I had outlined a rough route, but we wanted to be flexible and able to adapt and change the plan at any time. Marrakech, located at the foot of the Atlas Mountains, seemed to me to be the best starting point for the tour when I was preparing. The idea was to cross the mountains in a southerly direction from there. We wanted to visit some cultural highlights via less travelled routes, places like Telouet and Ait Benhaddou, once important trading centres during the times of the caravans between the legendary Timbuktu in Mali and the Sahara. From there, we wanted to continue towards the desert and then ride north-east along the other edge of the Atlas ranges and complete the circle back to Marrakech. The route would take us over the remote pass road – the Col du Ouano, at 2,910 metres the highest passable road over the Atlas mountains – and through a more than impressive gorge, the Gorge du Dades.

Having felt quite relaxed after catching our first glimpse of the initial ascents from the Medina on the first day, Morocco showed its strenuous side on the second day with a gruelling ascent at a constant 13 percent gradient! Luca and I swore as we tried to make headway in the lowest gear. As strenuous as this day was, the landscape was just as impressive, with the snow-covered Atlas peaks all around us, completely deserted roads and sleepy villages dotted here and there. No matter how small they are, they all have a little minaret. The drudgery was followed by a rapid, winding descent. For lunch, we had a wonderful lamb tagine (traditional Moroccan dish), which strengthened us enough to tackle the first big pass: the Tizi n’Tichka – up to 2,260 metres over 30 kilometres uphill on the main artery crossing the Atlas mountains. Our destination for the day was the village of Telouet with its architectural landmark – the magical Kasbah. The fortress sits in the middle of a beautiful plateau.

Telouet was once one of the most important trading centres on the caravan route and the seat of one of the most influential and wealthy Berber families in the country. Unfortunately, the building is almost completely dilapidated and neglected, but a local organisation was able to save the dining room and harem from decay. I had to convince my grumpy teenage son to visit the ruins with me. He actually wanted to move on immediately, but was happy about the cultural detour: the building, though dilapidated, is extremely impressive, especially the harem, where every square inch of the walls and ceilings is covered with intricate mosaic decorations.

A pleasant travel destination

Our route that day was the second highlight: almost 80 kilometres of descent over deserted, winding roads and through spectacular landscapes. Nothing but red earth, blue sky and the occasional medieval-looking settlement, also in red and beige to match the landscape.

The roads are deserted away from the main traffic routes – some tarmacked, some sandy, and perfect for cycling. We had chosen our daily stages, mostly between 70 and 130 kilometres long, perfectly. On some days the altitude was a real challenge, but other days when the going was flatter and easier made up for it. In general, travelling in Morocco is very relaxed; you can communicate almost everywhere with a little knowledge of French. The people are very welcoming and hospitable. What surprised us was that the locals weren’t particularly interested in us two guys in tight bike clothing on weird-looking bikes, even though we didn’t meet any other cyclists.

The sudden end of the tour

Unfortunately, on the sixth day, after almost 500 kilometres, we were stopped in our tracks: Luca had probably eaten something bad and was suffering terrible stomach cramps. The extreme cold bothered us, especially in the freezing morning hours. The long, hard days in the saddle had done the rest. The second crossing of the Atlas Mountains was actually on the agenda that day. Rich with new experiences and happy with what we had achieved, we decided with a heavy heart to cancel the tour and take a rickety taxi back to Marrakech. Someone told us before we set off that the hammams there are excellent...