And yet, much of Catalina remains wild. More than 165 miles of trails and roads unspool in loops and spurs across the 22-mile-long landmass. With its craggy terrain and ocean vistas — to say nothing of its fauna, including foxes, bald eagles, and 120-odd bison — the island feels nothing like nearby Los Angeles.

All of which contributes to Catalina’s reputation as a paradise for outdoors enthusiasts. With restricted car usage, biking is one of the best ways to explore, and whether it’s cruising Avalon’s scenic, paved waterfront or tackling stony fire roads, there’s something for cyclists of all levels. To access the trails outside of town, a $35 Freewheeler Bike Pass can be purchased through the Catalina Island Conservancy. But don’t expect any of SoCal’s notorious traffic, unless it’s a line of golf carts in town or a herd of bison in the backcountry.

Beginner/Overnight

Avalon to Little Harbor Loop
Distance: 32 miles
Elevation gain: 4,400 feet

Depart Avalon and begin the relentless climb to Airport in the Sky. After 10 miles and almost 2,000 feet of elevation gain, you’ll arrive at the quaint aerodrome where you can take in beautiful views, fill up water, and grab a beloved “Killer Cookie” from the on-site cafe.

Sufficiently refueled, you’ll be ready for the pleasant 6-mile descent into Little Harbor Campground, a beachfront oasis on Catalina’s remote “backside.” It may be secluded, but it’s got plenty of amenities, including picnic tables, barbecue grills, bathrooms, and staggering ocean sunsets. Be sure to reserve your site through the Catalina Island Company well before your trip as sites can fill up months in advance (see below). And if you want to lighten your load — literally — you can arrange for your camping gear to be delivered to your site for $40 per bag round trip. Complete the lollipop loop by following Middle Ranch Road back to Airport Road, which you’ll follow back to Avalon.

Intermediate/Multi-Day

Trans-Catalina Bikepacking Route
Distance: 70 miles
Elevation Gain: 8,520 feet

For this intermediate ride, you’ll follow the first leg of the beginner route to Little Harbor. But instead of pitching your tent, you’ll ride another 6 miles north to Two Harbors, Catalina’s second, less touristy port. Grab a bite before setting out for 7 miles of a zig-zagging gravel road to Parsons Landing Campground, the most remote tent sites on the island. It may be Catalina’s only bivouac without potable water, but it makes up for it with dramatic cliffside vistas and near endless stretches of deep blue water right out your tent door.

The next day, retrace your ride back to Two Harbors for breakfast, then keep an eye out for — and your distance from — the grazing bison as you pedal back to Little Harbor. Strong cyclists could head straight back to Avalon, but why not take your time and enjoy another ocean sunset before drifting off to the crashing waves at Little Harbor Campground? For your final day, you’ll pick up Middle Ranch Road, where you’ll spot horses, foxes, and, if you’re lucky, a few bald eagles as you loop south around 2,097-foot Mount Orizaba to rejoin Airport Road. Not ready to return to town? Pick up Divide Road just west of Avalon to tack on a 10-mile, counterclockwise loop around the island’s southern end and up 1,563-foot East Mountain.

A word of warning: The packed gravel quickly turns to steep, loose, and rocky terrain with possible hike-a-bike sections. If this sounds appealing, consider bringing a more capable steed. Most gravel bikes likely won’t make for a comfortable ride, and you may end up fishtailing or even walking much of final descent. Whichever route you choose, celebrate with a cruise around Avalon, where the isolation of the wild side is again traded for the crowds of an energetic port.

Go and Stay

Two companies provide transport to the island: The Catalina Express ferry leaves from San Pedro, Long Beach, and Dana Point ($92 round trip, $7 bike fee), and the Catalina Flyer departs from Newport Beach ($94, $20 bike fee). Avalon has several posh hotels, starting at $200 per night. For panoramic views and historic elegance, book the four-star Mt Ada Hotel. Airbnb and VRBO options abound, and you’ll find Hermit Gulch Campground just a mile outside of town. There are four other campgrounds on the island, and all five must be reserved in advance through the Catalina Island Company (visitcatalinaisland.com; $35 per adult and $24 per child per night; reservations open every year on January 1). Camping add-ons, including water, firewood, and other essentials can be purchased — and delivered to your site — for an additional fee.

Arts and Culture

The Catalina Museum for Art and History features permanent and rotating exhibits detailing the island’s 7,000-year-history of inhabitation. On the north side of Avalon Bay, the famed Catalina Casino, one of the first theaters specifically built for “talkies,” is a showcase of art deco architecture and murals. The island is also a hub for film, music, and wine festivals. Check out the events page at visitcatalinaisland.com to see if one happens to fall on your chosen dates.

Groceries and Food

Avalon is full of restaurants catering to tourists. Check out NDMK Fish House for seafood, Catalina Coffee and Cookie Co. for something sweet, and Catalina Island Brew House for post-ride pints. For a SoCal-style beach party, head to Descanso Beach Club, the Island’s only beachfront restaurant and bar. (Don’t skip the signature Buffalo Milk cocktail, a frozen concoction of vodka, ice cream, banana chips, and coffee, banana, and chocolate liqueurs.) Stock up on camp food at Vons grocery store prior to departing for the more remote parts of Catalina, but don’t worry too much. There are plenty of places to refuel in the hinterland, including Two Harbors’ Harbor Reef Restaurant and Bar or Two Harbors General Store.

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After research and recommendations, the route I decided on began in Barcelona, along EuroVelo (EV) 8, the Mediterranean Route. It followed the coast north to Montpelier, France, where the route then switched from EV8 to EV17, ViaRhona. From there, I followed the route north to Lyon, then northeast to Geneva, Switzerland. After a few rest days and exploration, including a hike in beautiful Chamonix, France, I headed south for Italy. The Italian portion included EV5, Francigena from Milan to Parma, followed by more riding in the Emilia Romagna region. The EuroVelo website was a great starting place to help me choose a few broad areas that I wanted to explore. However, the most useful resources were fellow cyclists I connected with mostly through Facebook groups: Women’s Bikepacking & Bike Touring, Bicycle Touring for Beginners, and Bicycle Travelers. 

This was an absolutely fabulous tour, with a mix of landscapes, terrains, cultures, and climates. However, as with any tour, there was a huge learning curve. Some days were phenomenal, with perfect weather, easy-to-follow directions, delicious food, and kind hosts. Other days were less than ideal, faced with sketchy strangers, non-bikeable roads, unappetizing foods, and headwinds. The good experiences far outnumbered the bad, but a deeper understanding of this route would have made traveling a bit easier. Thus, I’ve created a guide of the best and worst of my experiences in hopes of increasing other riders’ positive experiences and decreasing unpleasant ones.

Road Conditions

No matter what country I was in, I faced a wide variety of road types. Paved, gravel, cobblestone, dirt — these were just a few of the possibilities. One minute, I was on a main highway and the next, a dirt and rocky road where I prayed my tires would make it through without puncture. 

Generally, I found that France had the highest percentage of bikeable roads. Most importantly, much of France was designated bike trail or bike lanes. Unlike other EuroVelo routes, I found the majority of ViaRhona to be a designated bike path. While the Mediterranean route portions in France were not designated to bikes only, there tended to be bike lanes on roads with clear signage for drivers to keep watch for cyclists. Additionally, the roads were well maintained, with smooth surfaces and few instances of cracks or holes.

Italy’s roads were challenging. Beginning in and around the cities, they are often made of cobblestone, which may look charming but are not very functional for bikes. The large tracks of the trams were also problematic; I took a fall on one when my tire hit it at the wrong angle. Outside the cities, the roads were crowded with bumps, cracks, and holes. While I was able to see some beautiful towns and cities in Italy, I wouldn’t recommend this route for a tour due to the poor road conditions.

Signage

Along the ViaRhona in France, I had the least amount of route-finding issues. Whether along the trails or on roads in cities, there were numerous clear signs indicating the route. The Mediterranean route in Spain was not as simple. I was often faced with several road choices without a single sign. This slowed me down, as I was constantly referring to my phone for directions. 

Google Maps was the least helpful in keeping me on or near the EuroVelo routes. Komoot and cycle.travel tended to be the most helpful. While cycle.travel isn’t very user friendly, it was the easiest way to determine where I was in relation to the EV routes.

Weather

Pinpointing the best weather can be difficult. The month of May mostly proved to be lovely in all regions I ventured. The first half of May was slightly cooler, making midday riding much more enjoyable. Toward the end of the month, it was more important to plan the day’s ride around the heat, starting earlier in the morning and resting in the afternoon.

Arles, France, had the worst weather, lasting a few days until reaching Lyon. The winds in this region are known as the “Winds of Mistral” and are known to blow strong and cold from north to south along the Rhone River. In this section of the route, the ViaRhona (EV 17) followed the river almost directly north, making the ride very difficult. The weather app Windy proved to be somewhat helpful, as it was quite accurate in predicting the time, speed, and direction of the wind. However, the gusts were still largely inescapable. For this reason, many people prefer to complete this route from north to south.

Food

For me, Italy easily wins this category. Specifically, Emilia Romagna is known to be one of the finest regions in Italy for its delicious cuisine. It is the birthplace of well-known fan favorites, including Parmigiano Reggiano cheese, prosciutto di Parma, pasta bolognese, and tortellini. It is also famous for the production of balsamic vinegar, which I was able to see firsthand during my stay outside Modena. Other honorable mentions include pinchos from Barcelona, which are similar to tapas but always served atop a slice of bread. I also never met a crêpe, croissant, or pain au chocolat I didn’t like in France — and trust me, I met many.

The food in Lyon, France, was unique, and I am typically an adventurous eater. However, I had difficulty embracing the local fare, like quenelle, a mixture of puréed fish and egg formed into a football-like shape and baked. My lovely hosts made this for me, which I graciously ate despite the odd texture and taste. Other popular items, pâté en croûte and saucisson en brioche, are pâté and sausage, respectively, stuffed inside of a bread, typically brioche. I am generally not a fan of pâté to begin with. I do, however, enjoy sausage, but I found this kind to resemble more of a hot dog. A few other staple foods in Lyon included gateau de foies de volaille (chicken liver), tête de veau (calf brains), groins d’âne salad (donkey snout), and various meat gelatins.

Interactions with Strangers

As a young female riding alone, my family and friends were concerned for my safety. I, for one, never had any hesitation. The EV routes are well populated and bike friendly. However, it is always smart to be prepared and to have a plan for how to deal with difficult situations.

In France, I was on a low-traffic but somewhat large road surrounded mostly by farmland. A truck with three men pulled over and dropped off a young female dressed in high heels and a dress. It was about 10:00 AM, and they pulled over to me. One man began speaking to me in French. I kept riding but quickly said I didn’t understand French (I really don’t, so I can’t recount exactly what was said). He attempted to exchange a few more words with me, but this time, I didn’t respond. The car continued to drive at my speed while the man tried one final time to speak with me. I gave him a look of displeasure, and he proceeded to blow me a kiss. Finally, they drove off. I had no strategy or protection if the situation had escalated but luckily it didn’t. Though rare, uncomfortable and potentially dangerous situations are top of mind, particularly for women, people of color, and the LGBTQI+ community. 

Planning Tips for LGBTQ+ Cyclists

I also had many positive experiences with strangers, one, in particular, leaving a deep impression on me. I had strayed far off route and was taken to what Google thought was a backroad but was actually a rest stop next to the highway. I tried to problem solve on my own but realized the mistake would have cost me at least 30 miles of rerouting. I attempted to seek help from numerous people but was having no luck. Eventually, a family on holiday traveling in a camper van approached me. They went above and beyond to comfort me, give me food, and lift my spirits. 

The three children, all under the age of 10, took part in helping me too, which really showed what a caring family they were. They decided the best solution was to drive me back to the proper route, 45 minutes out of their way. They helped disassemble my bike and fit it in the back of the loaded RV. On the drive, I got to know the family; I practiced English with the kids and we took many selfies together. Someone recently said to me, “It’s not the places you go, it’s the people you meet.” This day, I truly felt that.

Research Specifics

While the locations I’ve touched on in this article are specific, the topics can be applied to anywhere in the world. Look into the road conditions you will be experiencing so you know what types of tubes/tires will be best suitable, as well as the general safety and comfort of your riding. Find out how well the trails are signed. Check for weather patterns ahead of time.

Research the area’s foods to see what they are known for and make sure you give them a try. And remember that, at the end of the day, you are responsible for your own safety. While there are wonderful people in the world who might bail you out of an uncomfortable situation, always try to ensure that you’ll be able to problem solve without assistance. Going into a solo tour with that mindset will help you feel more self-sufficient, confident, and prepared for anything that comes your way.

The post Spain to Switzerland on the EuroVelo appeared first on Adventure Cycling Association.

I’ve wanted to ride in Spain for some time now, attracted by the beautiful countryside, challenging hills, quaint pueblos, passionate people, and exquisite cuisine, to name a few. When Adventure Cycling recently published an article listing Sevilla, Andalusia, on the top 10 bike-friendly places in the world, I had the extra motivation I needed to book a trip there, my first time in Spain. Being someone who enjoys both backcountry riding and cultural immersion, I opted to incorporate some time for sightseeing, museum-going, tapas, and cervezas when out of the saddle. My time off the bike brought me to Madrid, Granada, Malaga, Sevilla, and Merida. Still, it was no surprise to me that my five days spent riding in Ronda was by far the best part of the trip. 

Ronda is a magnificent, charming city a little over an hour from Malaga. The small city is situated practically on a cliff, with houses built to the very edge and hills being a daily requirement for getting around. The cobblestone streets, breathtaking views, and architecturally brilliant bridges add to Ronda’s charm. I stumbled into discovering Ronda through Google searches linking me to a few local bike touring groups in the area. After some more in-depth online research, I discovered Andalucian Cycling Experience, a bike shop and touring company operating out of Ronda. The company provides several options depending on your experience, time, and budget. These options include guided rides with accommodations in villas, guided rides without accommodations, or bike rentals. Lori, my friend and adventure buddy, and I opted to rent bikes so that we were able to explore and ride at our own pace. Ashley was nice enough to also send some popular Strava routes, and there were plenty of other resources available to outline a few others. 

A quick word on bike rentals. Since the cycling portion of our trip was less than a week, renting bikes was the economically friendly option. Although it always feels a little better to be on your own bike, the cost and hassle of packing and flying with our bikes for this specific trip didn’t seem to make sense. Ashley’s company offers Orbea road bike rentals for €25 per day or €125 a week, which we thought was an excellent investment. 

Our first day of cycling was a route called Puerto de Las Palomas. The difficult portion of the ride begins from the town of Zahara de la Sierra and extends up the north side of the Sierra de Grazalema Mountains. Our total planned mileage for this day was about 50 miles, but this climb alone was 4,000 feet of elevation gain over approximately eight miles. In our preceding portion of the ride, we could see the Castle of Zahara from miles away, perched on the top of a mountain overlooking the pueblos below. Upon our arrival, we took extra time to hike to the castle and then grab a coffee in town. The steep hills and Moorish architecture of the town were picturesque, and we were glad we stopped to admire it prior to our never-ending climb. 

Switchback after switchback, the winds gusted a little more and the temperature dropped, but the views somehow continued to get better. The peak finally came and led us into miles of downhill bliss. Soaring by, we saw glimpses of the beautiful town of Grazalema as the sun set. As we stopped to recuperate, realizing the climb had taken much longer than we’d hoped, we questioned whether it was time to stick out a thumb to get ourselves safely down the rest of the way before dark. Just as the thought struck us, a camper van with two women around our age passed by, and we flagged them down. Though they hardly spoke English and we hardly spoke Spanish, we were able to communicate our need to get down to the next town before dark. Reluctantly at first, but then graciously, they cleared some space for us in the back as we sat amidst our two bikes, their mattress, and four dogs down the rest of the mountain. While I would have loved completing the ride from start to finish, meeting a few local Spaniards was possibly the best part of our day. We discovered laughter, smiles, and sharing food as a universal language. We thanked them at our destination with cervezas and tapas before they departed. I know that we will remain lifelong friends with them. 

While our Las Palomas ride was difficult to match, our other days of cycling were close contenders for their beauty, excitement, and sights. One day led us north toward a town called Setenil de las Bodegas, which is in the providence of Cadiz. Our route was a combination of gravel and paved roads over rolling hills, much less intense than the Grazalema Mountains. The town is known for its houses built into the encompassing cliffs. Like many of the nearby towns and cities, it is also topped with a fortress, with a long history of battle between Moor and Christian occupants. The cuevos, or cave buildings, were astounding to see. What a quaint place to relax with an espresso after a day of riding. 

Another ride worth mentioning was to a town called Juzcar, better known as “Smurf Town.” Unlike the white villages that fill Andalucia, the houses of Juzcar were all painted blue in order to promote the Smurfs movie beginning in 2011. In addition to the bright blue color, you will find murals and statues of Smurfs all around town. Lastly, another day led us to a breathtaking olive farm that we couldn’t pass up. We were treated to a tour of the farm as well as olive oil samples presented in small shot glasses. This was followed by cured meats, Spanish omelets, and fresh tomato salad. I can say for certain that we ate well throughout our time in Spain, which I think we can all agree is critical after a long day on the bike. 

Overall, pedaling in Andalucia was an unforgettable experience, and I highly recommend it for bike travelers of any style and experience level. A hybrid trip like mine was perfect for the amount of time, my budget, and my travel style. I was able to see Spain from different perspectives, gaining insight on the history, city life, culture, food, and people. Specifically, what I gained from the bike portion, as I feel I always do when I tour, is a deeper connection to my surroundings and to the local community. When you stroll up on a bike, you are just greeted differently. Warmly, and perhaps a bit inquisitively, but cordially nonetheless. Throughout our five days riding in Andalucia, we made connections with locals that we will have for life. Despite my original reservations about a hybrid trip, I wouldn’t change a thing.
 

The post Ambling Through Andalucia appeared first on Adventure Cycling Association.

Then I met a patient at the hospital where I work who inspired me in other ways. Every day she rode to and from her chemotherapy and radiation treatments. Her reasoning was simple: “It makes me happy. All good things in my life have come from bikes.”

I was fascinated by how this two-wheeled contraption could create so much joy in different people for completely different reasons. When I decided I was ready to embark on my first bike tour, the easy parts were doing the research, planning the route, and buying the necessary gear. The hard part was finding someone to do it with me. 

I began by searching my phone contacts. I asked some friends who shared in my love of the outdoors and exploring new places. No luck. The most frequent responses I received were people telling me I was crazy, that it was a stupid idea for a vacation, or that I was in over my head. While I’m not easily discouraged, the constant rejection was a bit demoralizing. 

After spending a few weeks asking around, I thought of one more person who might be interested. It was a guy I met in Switzerland when I took a solo trip to Europe a few years ago. He was also traveling alone, and we met at our hostel. We ended up doing some epic hikes together in the Swiss Alps that were some of the best experiences of my life. We kept in touch but never saw each other again. I figured it was worth a shot. I sent him a message asking if he’d be interested in a bike tour from Missoula to Jackson Hole. His response: “I don’t have a bike, and what’s a bike tour?” 

Ugh. 

That same week, I stumbled upon Adventure Cycling’s Companions Wanted. I scrolled through to find that most people were doing trips way above what I felt my experience level at the time could handle. I was hoping to plan a trip that was two to three weeks, but it seemed like most of the posts were generally three months or more. 

I was nervous to write a post, like I was putting myself out there on a dating app. I worried people would laugh at my measly idea of a tour. Ironically, while I was intimidated by Companions Wanted posts for its 3,000-mile rides, my friends thought I was completely out of my mind for wanting to ride 500 miles. 

I bit the bullet and wrote a post, explaining my plan to complete Section Four and part of Section Five of the TransAmerica Trail. I’d begin in Missoula, Montana, and end the trip with Yellowstone, the Grand Tetons, and Jackson Hole, Wyoming. I made sure to preface that I was a beginner.

I received a response three days later from a 19-year-old college student. She had completed four bike tours, one of which included South Carolina to Los Angeles in 42 days. She explained that the trip, timing, and mileage were exactly what she was looking for. Not to mention, she was happy to share her love and knowledge of bike touring with a novice like me. 

Things were looking up. I had one successful recruit for the trip simply by typing up a short post that I was almost too intimidated to write. 

That same day, about a week after I had last talked to my Swiss Alps hiking buddy, I received an unexpected text from him. “Hey. I bought a bike. I’m in.” 

I couldn’t believe it. So now it was really happening. No turning back. 

I arranged for the three of us to meet via Zoom. Before the group meeting, I figured I should do a little more research on our route. It was a rude awakening when I realized it wouldn’t be a ride in the park, if you will. 

Mountain passes? I don’t even know what mountains are here in Pennsylvania. 

It could snow in June?! I thought this was summer …

Bears. 

Fifty miles with nothing but cows and grass? We are definitely not in Philadelphia anymore. 

My carbon fiber racing bike can carry all my gear, right?

What did I get myself into?

I was completely terrified. But an even more terrifying thought was letting down my newfound bike mates. I couldn’t quit now, no matter how scared I was. Then again, that’s the power of community and accountability. 

Fast forward past this panic: it was time to craft a solid plan. I ordered the TransAm maps, used Komoot to more easily track our daily mileage and elevation gain, and made frequent trips to REI. I even called Adventure Cycling headquarters several times with questions, where I spoke to the same man each time. Although I’m sure he didn’t recognize my voice (or maybe I hoped he didn’t), his voice became a source of relief to all of my anxious thoughts. 

When the day finally came to depart for the trip, I felt much more relaxed than I believed possible. Rich, Lyric, and I met in the Missoula airport. It was the first time the three of us had ever been together, but we had an instant connection. In many ways we were completely different. Lyric is a college student studying film. She’s a creative free spirit, still figuring out her place in the world but unafraid to leave her comfort zone in her search. Rich is a 52-year-old web designer. He is intellectual, methodical, and inquisitive. And I’m a 27-year-old occupational therapist, the planner of the group, and cautiously adventurous in that I can do anything or go anywhere as long as it’s strategized. We were different but now so much the same, connected by our one goal: to tour 500 miles self-supported.  

The trip ended up being absolutely everything I could have imagined and more. The vast landscape of green valleys surrounded by snowcapped mountains was like nothing I’d ever seen before. The small towns each had their own personalities, like Virginia City, for example. It was a ghost town where gold was struck in the late 1800s that brought us right back into the Wild West. The mountain passes, though excruciatingly difficult to climb in 90°F heat, led to the most magnificent descents I’ve ever experienced. The people we met — locals, Warmshowers hosts, and fellow cyclists — showed nothing but kindness and hospitality throughout our entire trip. 

Of course, problems arose throughout the vacation. Bikes being lost in the airport, our Pocket Rocket stove breaking at dinner time, 30 MPH headwinds kicking in mid-ride, and encounters with wildlife to name a few. But everything that we faced, we got through it together. We were three strangers now forever connected by an unforgettable trip. 

My suggestion for anyone new to bike touring or just lacking adventure buddies: don’t get discouraged. There are thousands of people out there willing to adventure with you. You just have to find them. Companions Wanted is an amazing resource for this. Don’t be afraid to put yourself out there. You may end up having the trip of your life by connecting with the least likely cycling partners.

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