It happens to all of us at some point – you realise that you have friends that you haven’t seen in ages and the bonds that help keep tightly knitted groups together start to unravel. Mark Livesey had a plan for preventing this though – he created a 700 km bikepacking route through southern Spain and then got the band back together.
Most adventures start with a simple idea. After the success of our "Three Amigos” ride from Bilbao to Barcelona last year, this year I decided to rope the same friends into another point-to-point bikepacking adventure in a different part of Spain. Spain has so much to offer to the bikepacking and gravel communities and I love exploring there. This would be my fifth multi-day adventure on the Orbea Alma hardtail MTB and I was excited to see what we would find this time, but I am not sure even I could have predicted the amazing route we ended up doing. When I pitched the idea to the other two “3 Amigos”, they didn’t hesitate. But this time our group grew to five when two more of our friends decided they did not want to suffer the same FOMO they had the previous year. Five guys with friendships spanning decades, friendships that have carried us through thick and thin in many different phases of our lives. It’s rare that we are all together, none of us could remember the last time all five had been in the same room. A shared adventure was just the excuse we needed.
I mapped out a roughly 700 km route on komoot from Málaga to Valencia: a meandering line that flirted with the Sierra Nevada, cut through the otherworldly Gorafe Desert, and stitched together countless kilometres of gravel, brutal climbs, forgotten railways through olive groves and orange fields. But a line on a map is just that. Photos that other cyclists have taken are useful, but cannot possibly prepare you for all that lies ahead when you take on a challenge like this.
I wanted the route to be tough. Long enough to be a stretch, wild enough to carry risk. I know my friends well, and having all come from both military and sporting backgrounds, this adventure needed to test both fitness and personal resolve. We all still compete in endurance events of different sorts, but bikepacking gives me something more. Something raw, unique, and testing that I can share with friends. Endless kilometres, laughter, struggles and ever-changing scenery - that’s what makes it truly special.
The plan
The idea was to ride roughly 100+ km per day - long days on mostly gravel while carrying 25-30 kg of kit. We planned to have the option for rough camping when we needed it, but to also stay in campsites and hostels along the way. We carried no cooking equipment, relying instead on cafés and shops en-route. We had learnt our lesson the previous year and as I would advise anyone going on a journey like this through rural Spain: always carry enough food and water for at least 12 hours. Opening hours can be notoriously unpredictable, especially towards the end of the summer season.
Our first two days were spent mostly riding on paved roads, winding our way north from Malaga toward the expanse of the Gorafe Desert. They were long days on beautiful smooth quiet roads, a chance to catch up and get into our rhythm before we hit the wilderness. As planned, on the second night we stayed in the beautiful village of Gorafe. Known to me from a few previous visits, including during The Badlands race, it had been a dream of mine to show this gem to my friends. In the event, our stay there was made even more special as we were hosted by Nico Valsesia at The Bike Cueva. This is a newly opened oasis in the heart of the Gorafe Desert, perfectly set up to host bikepackers and somewhere I will surely return to. Modest to the bone, it took a while for us to find out that Nico is a bit of a legend - he has taken second place in the Solo Race Across America among many other feats. His hospitality, stories and pasta dinner set us up perfectly for the next day’s dawn start.
The Gorafe Desert
Tucked away in the province of Granada, the Gorafe Desert is one of Spain’s most surreal landscapes. Its rugged canyons, jagged ridges and vast, arid horizons have long caught the eye of filmmakers - most famously Italian director Sergio Leone, who used it as the backdrop for many spaghetti westerns, including The Good, the Bad and the Ugly and Once Upon a Time in the West. But beyond its cinematic fame, the Gorafe is now a hub for bikepackers and host to gravel races including Utopia and Badlands.
One of my favourite moments of the whole trip came as I watched my friends roll into the desert for the first time. Sunrise was creeping over the horizon as the five of us pedalled up the canyon side and onto the ridge, our tyres crunching over the smooth gravel breaking the silence. The chill of dawn still hung in the air, casting long shadows across the untamed landscape. As we crested the canyon, the scene opened out in a tapestry that seemed almost surreal. For a few kilometres as we rode the first ridge, we all slowed, speechless, each taking in the majesty and sheer scale of this otherworldly place. After decades of friendship, it’s special to still find something new to share — to see wonder in each other again. That’s the true reward of an adventure like this and I was quietly proud to have played my part in enabling it.
The riding in Gorafe is not easy and it pays to give yourself extra time there for the distance you have to cover. The descents can be technical and once you are down in the river beds the sand slows your pace. It is also not a place to be when it rains, so it is important to have other route options in mind should the weather turn. The climbs are steep and unrelenting, but of course the rewards are endless. Smooth gravel roads wind their way through the canyons and it is some of the best riding I have done anywhere.
Sharing the challenges and triumphs of that long day with friends, surrounded by breathtaking landscapes, reminded me why we seek out these adventures. Though our bodies were weary, our spirits were lifted by the camaraderie and the unique experiences we had shared along the way.
Spain’s Greenways — A bikepacker’s dream
Luckily for us, Spain also boasts one of the largest networks of converted railway lines in Europe. After the rugged, leg sapping climbs of the Gorafe, it was with some relief that we stumbled upon the Vía Verde del Segura, cutting through olive groves and rolling farmland. Known as the Vías Verdes, or “Greenways”, there are now more than 120 routes in Spain covering over 3,200 km of former railway lines, many of which never saw a single train. These beautifully converted trails offer safe, car-free paths through mountains, river valleys, viaducts and tunnels - some with working lights, drainage systems and even drinking water stations.
On this smooth “champagne gravel” we ticked off kilometres without even realising it, admiring the engineering as we went. The work that was done is staggering: old tunnels, vast bridges and crumbling stations that seem frozen in time. It’s strange to think that due to funding issues, many of these stations never saw a single passenger.
A little Spanish goes a long way
Riding through rural Spain felt like slipping into a world time forgot. Out there, there are no crowds, no traffic, no tourist traps. Our route passed through tiny towns and villages that most travellers will never see. One such place was Alcaraz, its crumbling castle and stone walls whispering stories that reach back centuries, many to the era of the Ottoman Empire. This region was the last stronghold of Muslim rule in Spain, falling only in the 15th century, their influence still visible in the architecture today. You feel almost as if you have been the lucky winner of a secret Spanish tour when you come across such unique places. And in Spain, knowing a little Spanish goes a very long way. You’re met with warmth, smiles and curiosity. Locals would stop us, asking what we were doing in the middle of nowhere with our bikes. When I explained, they’d laugh, shake their heads and proudly tell us how beautiful their country is. I always replied with a simple truth — “España es muy bonita.”
Final thoughts
Adventures like this are far more than just rides, they’re mirrors. They reflect not only your fitness and resolve but also the strength of the friendships you bring with you. When you spend long days grinding through heat, dust, and climbs that seem endless, the true fabric of your relationships is revealed. A journey like this will either galvanise your friendships into something unbreakable or gently expose the cracks that were always there. That’s not a bad thing; it’s part of what makes the experience real. This ride brought out the best and worst in all of us, from flashes of frustration and periods of silence to long eruptions of laughter that echoed down empty valleys as we doubled over in moments of shared humour. Moments that will be remembered forever. By the end, we were tired, sunburned, a little broken, but all of us stronger for it.
Perhaps the endless kilometres, the mishaps and the scenery are just the backdrop. The real story is the friendships that survive it all. We are already planning for next year, wondering where the adventures will lead……
All images courtesy of Mark Livesey