Today’s plan was for another ride along one of Andalusia’s many Via Verdes, the Via Verde del Aciete. In 2017, different sections of greenway along the former Oil Train route between Jaén and Puente Genil, including the Via Verde Subbética, were combined into a single 120 km greenway known as Via Verde del Aceite. It is now the longest greenway in Andalusia, and with surface of of asphalt and compact gravel, the Via Verde del Aceite has received generally favorable reviews from the CB touring cyclists.
My experience with Via Verdes in Andalusia has been mixed - I thoroughly my short time on Via Verde de la Sierra, but struggled with the less well-known routes between Seville and Cordoba. Although I’d come to Martos with the intent of cycling the Via Verde del Aciete all the way to Zuheros, I was concerned that riding on a dusty trail might further aggravate my lungs, now suffering from a full-blown cold. I’d plotted a second, paved route to Zuheros and asked for advice from my host in Zuheros, herself an avid cyclist. When she encouraged me to take the greenway, I opted for local advice and CB reviews and made my way to the start of the trail.
Martos is located at the highest point on the Via Verde del Aceite and the first twenty miles were generally downhill through a landscape dominated by olive groves. Once again, I found great delight in how a seemingly one-note landscape can display wondrous variation in patterns and colors. The greenway surface was excellent, with surprisingly long sections of asphalt. In fact, I found the most challenging surfaces to be the long viaducts, comprised of old railroad ties anchored between two concrete strips – the options were a very bumpy ride atop the ties, or a somewhat anxious trip along a “narrow sidewalk.” I chose the bumps, but my bum was none too happy.
Vivien George enjoyed the Plaza de Toros memorabilia during her overnight stay in the Hotel Hidalgo dining room
I was comforted by the fact that no guns are allowed on the trail, unlike one of my local greenways in Raleigh, NC where a mass shooting occurred last year
One of the 13 viaducts from 19th century. The concrete-paved borders provide a smoother ride, but I felt more secure bouncing across the very uneven railroad ties
After almost 20 miles, I neared the crossing of the Ría Guadajoz and the lowest elevation of the day’s ride. I stopped for a snack at one of the many picnic tables spaced out along the trail and then began the 10 mile gradual climb to the Zuheros turn-off. Though it barely registered as a climb, I was beginning to tire and was glad to pull over for a cold drink and a more extended break at the restaurant located at former Luque rail station. A few other cyclists were there – the couple I’d leapfrogged most of the day as well as Karel, a chap from Switzerland who’d cycled from Merida and was heading to Baena.
Picnic tables spaced along the greenway offer nice spots to sit a spell and perhaps have a bite to eat
The turn-off for Zuheros was only a few miles past the Luque station, and I was heartened to see that both the city and I were at roughly the same elevation. But I was sorely mistaken in assuming that not much climbing remained. The route swept downward past the once-visible part of town and circled around to the back where I faced a quite steep climb to my lodging. I made a brave effort, garnering a smattering of applause from a few onlookers, but shortly thereafter I caved. It was a somewhat long and very steep hike up to my lodging and I was pretty bushed by the time I arrived and figured out all codes and locks required for entry. But my spirits were lifted by the warm greeting from Uta, the female half of the German couple I’d been leapfrogging all day. They were staying in the upstairs unit of this wonderful two-apartment house - I was downstairs, in El Hechizo Del Bailón unit. It was a great one-bedroom apartment with many thoughtful touches and supplies, such as chocolates, a small bottle of wine, coffee and bread. And fantastic views.
Though I’d taken a short rest before my online French class, I was still too bushed to go out to eat. I had earlier run into Uta carrying a sack-full of supplies she’d bought at the local food store, and so I headed over to the small market for some provisions – not much, but at least a few items to get me through the evening and tomorrow morning. It had been a wonderful day along the Via Verde del Aciete and I went to bed with a smile on my face and olive trees dancing in my head.
Seeing eye to eye with Zuheros, I did not notice that the route ahead went down and to the right - seemingly in the wrong direction
