The rides one takes on ones own are always different from any ride in a group. This is true not only in the atmosphere on the ride and the thoughts the riding inspires, but also in terms of the kind of route one picks for riding alone. I choose smaller roads for solo rides: such roads with their twists, turns and perhaps a poorer surface might be more trouble than they’re worth for a group ride, but on my own these are small inconveniences, and the joy of the more interesting sights, sounds and smells make it well worth the extra attention I have to give the road.
Here is typical Mallorca quiet-roads cycling route—over roads that I would recommend to riders going out in ones or twos, but not to groups bigger than four: it uses the small, quiet lanes that criss-cross Mallorca. Leaving Cas Canar (a hamlet south of Sencelles), I headed south this morning after coffee but before breakfast at 7.30; the sun had risen but not yet appeared over the little ridge to my east that would be my return route. Randa ahead of me dominated the horizon beyond the morning-misty plain. Crossing over the main road to Sineu, I headed through the Hamlet of Ruberts on towards Lloret (or to give it its full name: Lloret de Vista Alegre); before the village the road cuts through the Lloret woods, and it’s unique herby smell greeted me as I entered (together with warmer air—off came the gilet and arm-warmers though it was only 7.45). Thanks to their cow-bells I only heard (or is it herd?) the sheep in the woods this morning, but last time we passed they showed their faces for a photo.
Lloret itself is a great place to stop for a coffee; we’ve seen these local club riders here in the square a couple of times, but today all was quiet, and I headed north without stopping. Leaving Lloret to the north crosses a small plain, then up a small 10% rise of 30m or so onto the ridge; at that point the view changes as the Tramuntana mountain range comes into view, dramatically lit by the now-risen sun. When I hit the Sineu road it’s left then right in a staggered crossing; as you can see from a careful look at the map, I went wrong and did a 100m right before spotting my mistake—I was not thinking, perhaps distracted by the draw of those mountains or daydreaming about writing up this ride! The road up to Costix is quieter still, but still good to ride as it’s flat and straight for the first, narrow part, but then it widens as it starts to wind and roll up and down a little more. Costix café often has cyclists sitting outside—we’ve talked to many Brits here, and is an old haunt of ours as it’s the nearest town for a café-run: 5km, then coffee, then 5 more km home is a common leg-stretcher for us on lazy mornings. Click ‘download’ at the bottom of the page for the gpx file of this route—it’s the kind of route one could get lost trying to find on a map, so sat nav-ing it is a good idea.