Great rides: Atlas to Sahara

“Just one more like this?” My cycling companions asked as we crested the top of another 1,100m-long climb. “I’m not so sure,” I replied, voicing my suspicions.

We were nearing the end of our third day of cycling on a tour through the Atlas Mountains to the Sahara Desert. “Just four short, sharp climbs to the end!” Abdel, our guide, had reassured us. “Only about 1km long.”

We set off again and almost immediately my Garmin was leading me into our first climb: 650m and not too steep. We got to the top with little effort; if it’s all like this, it’ll be a breeze, I thought to myself as I went swooping down, the descent my reward for the climb.

We were cycling on well-tarmacked, largely deserted roads through stunning mountain scenery, and it wasn’t long before the next climb was in sight. At 1,100m this was going to be tougher. It was about this time that I started to suspect that first climb wasn’t one of the four.

As Abdel joined us at the top of that third – or was it second? – a few voices called out: “Just one more?” “No, two more!” came the response.

At least it wasn’t a shock to me. All four climbs done, and a massive sense of achievement, it was just a short descent to the rural village where we would be spending the night in the most basic accommodation you can imagine. The toilet was a whole in the ground; the shower a hosepipe.

Mountain biking in Morocco

The trip, which started in the Moroccan capital of Marrakech, was a present for my 50th birthday. We were riding from Telouet, a village in the High Atlas Mountains, just outside Marrakech, across the Atlas Mountains to the Sahara Desert for a night in a Bedouin camp.

It was my first time on an overseas cycling tour, my first time mountain biking and my first time taking part in an organised group trip.

Day one was arrival in Marrakech. A non-cycling day, I met the other seven members of the group and our guide for the first time.

Most of the group knew each other: four Canadians who regularly tour together – Murray, Allan, Jim and Harold, and Allan’s son Ian. Then there was Ritchie, another rider from the UK, plus Simona, the only other woman on the trip, from the Netherlands.

Never having been on a trip like this before I didn’t know what to expect. Luckily everyone was friendly and easy to get on with.

The next day brought our first day of cycling. Following a three-hour transfer by 4x4 to Telouet, we were united with our bikes. After a bit of time getting them set up, we set off. This was one of the least challenging days to ease us in: just 46km with about 500m of climbing, with the first few kilometres on tarmac before heading onto gravel.

However, part of the track had been washed away and what should have been hard-packed gravel was loose stone and sand with several huge craters in the road that we had to dismount and climb over. After quite a rough descent we found ourselves on a well-surfaced lane through rural villages.

On the up

We were about 1,800m above sea level and I found myself short of breath even on the gentlest of climbs. The struggle was more than rewarded by the stunning mountain scenery and picturesque villages.

As a climbing newbie I was also attacking the ascents with too much vigour. “Calm down,” my fellow Brit Ritchie advised. “Take it more slowly.” Following his advice on the next climb, I found it much easier.

We arrived at our hotel with just enough time for a shower and change of clothes before heading off for a walk across a very dusty dry riverbed to Ait Benhaddou, a ksar (a fortified village) on a former caravan route between Marrakech and the Sahara.

Today it’s a UNESCO World Heritage Site and considered a great example of Moroccan earthen clay architecture. It’s also a location for several films including Jewel in the Nile and Prince of Persia. One of group had a close encounter with a desert lizard. Then it was back to the hotel for a tagine dinner and sleep.

After breakfast on the terrace the next day, we climbed into our 4x4s for a transfer to the start of three days of cycling through the remote Jebel Sirwa region of the Atlas Mountains. The terrain was a mix of winding tarmac roads and loose gravel and sandy trails.

We really were in the middle of nowhere. Lunch was taken in a wind-swept field sheltering behind boulders and our support vehicles.

The food – here and at all lunchtimes – was impressive. Salads, roasted vegetables, pasta, plus skewers of chicken and lamb for the meat eaters, all prepared by our personal chef from the back of his 4x4. The leftovers were put out for the many dogs in the area.

Saffron cultivation is a key source of income for local families, and as if on cue, a farmer walked past our group, allowing our guide Abdel to grab a bag of this delicate flower, showing us the precious stamens that are used in cooking.

First major climb

The route ended with a 5km climb up to the plateau where we would be camping for the night. At times the gradient was up to 12%, although the average was 7%. The surface was loose gravel and sand. Most of the group decided to take the support cars up to the top.

Three of us, plus Abdel, opted to cycle. There was a lot of walking, pushing our bikes through soft sand. It was hard but riding into camp that evening to the cheers of the rest of the group felt triumphant. It was also a relief to find they’d used their time productively and set up tents for all of us.

We were camping in field bordered by a stream on a high plateau in the mountains. As the sun set, the temperature dropped and we wrapped up in our warmest clothes. We huddled around the campfire our chef had made to cook that night’s meat skewers.

After breakfast and breaking down camp the next morning we set out across the plateau. Abdel described the grassy terrain as “undulating”. My legs and lungs disagreed. But I was starting to get used to the elevation.

A steep descent took us to a tiny village where the main drag was a rocky dry riverbed populated by chickens and small children wanting high-fives and asking for “stilos”. They want the pens for school. We stopped here for tea, served with bread and honey, at the bottom of our next climb.

This one was 6km. While it wasn’t as steep as the previous day’s, the start looked practically perpendicular. I took one look and lost all confidence. I took the car to the top. Once there, I was reunited with my bike and set off again.

With hindsight I wish I’d tackled that climb. But my self-belief was gone. There’s a huge psychological element to these challenges and while physically I could have done it, my mind just wasn’t there. The day’s cycling ended with those four ‘short, sharp climbs’ of Abdel’s.

Down to the Draa Valley

The next day was the second-longest ride of the trip but with significantly less climbing than the previous two days. We covered just under 50km, but 16km of that was an epic and steep descent to the Draa Valley.

For a mountain-biking newbie with a fear of heights this was challenging: a fast, twisty downhill in soft sand, gravel chips and rocks, often with a sheer drop to one side. I had my brakes covered at all times and was concentrating hard on avoiding the biggest rocks and finding the smoothest path down.

It was a moment of great satisfaction when Allan told me he was following me as seemed to find the best line.

After about 8km off road, we got onto tarmac, with switchbacks and blind corners. “Keep to the right, there might be cars coming,” Abdel warned us. With a sheer drop on the right, I found this advice hard to follow.

There were times when the road straightened up enough to let go: 40+kph with a sheer drop to one side was certainly exhilarating. I’d never had so much fun, but it was still something of a relief to hit the valley floor.

The final kilometres were cycling through a vast oasis that’s home to millions of date palms. This offered up some stunning riding to the hotel. That night we enjoyed a stay in a luxury former casbah complete with hammam, a Moroccan steam bath, where some of our party treated their tired muscles.

We had a late start the next day to make the most of the hotel. I enjoyed a cup of Moroccan tea on the balcony while watching the sun rise over the date palms.

We were nearing the Sahara Desert now, with just two days left of riding through the Draa Valley’s extensive date palm groves lining the dry riverbed. The palms were heavy with dates and Abdel informed us that each one could produce up to 10,000 dates and these are a key source of income for the area.

Into the Sahara

Our last hotel before our night under canvas was another gorgeous former kasbah. We enjoyed a dip in the pool before drinking delicious orange and strawberry juice as the sun went down and then a tasty tagine dinner before heading off for another early night in anticipation of heading into the desert the next day.

With just 27km on the clock the riding was quickly finished that morning and we transferred to the 4x4s for the final leg to the Sahara.

The journey was delayed somewhat when we stopped and piled out of the cars for encounters with a Common Ostrich and an Addax. We also saw our first camels – a taster of what was to come for the handful of us who booked the camel ride.

The camp, when we arrived, was amazing. Huge tents with proper beds, electric lights and even charging points for our phones; a shower block with hot running water; a comfortable seating area; and a restaurant.

We had an hour or two to relax with glasses of Moroccan tea before being introduced to our camels for a ride up the sand dunes to watch the sun set over the desert.

That night I had one of the best night’s sleep I’ve ever had and was up early to star gaze – as a Londoner stars aren’t something I see much of. The sky was filled with tiny pinpricks of light. That day we drove back to Marrakech for a final dinner together before going our separate ways the next day.

I can honestly say this was one of the most amazing experiences of my life – a fitting way to celebrate half a century on this planet. I challenged myself, learnt new skills, made new friends and thoroughly enjoyed myself.