The third day promised to be action-packed — nearby was the Akamas Peninsula, which was the very reason we came to the north-western edge of the island. Good thing Sashka dragged me out there (at the cost of several bus rides, admittedly), otherwise I would have just kept riding around Troodos all day long, and those days would have been numbered, because the mountains there are exceptionally mountainous. I was convinced by an article in The Guardian, where Akamas is praised to the skies.
Akamas is not just a cape, but a national park with numerous endemic plant species, and, luckily, almost no trace of humans. Which plays right into our hands as lovers of escaping civilization. To map our route, we used tracks created by the Cyprus Tourism Organisation (CTO), which are pretty decent. Though at times it feels like the track descriptions were written by someone with a big, malicious sense of humor (like many of my friends, so I can appreciate it). Far too often they throw around phrases like “a pleasant and easy route, nowhere does it have an elevation drop of more than 400 meters.” Maybe there is no drop, but the total elevation gain can easily be well over a kilometer, if not two. None of our friends have ever ridden that much — a 1.5-kilometer gain, especially if half of it is on dirt roads, is already considered very respectable, 1.8 is the ceiling, and anything over 2 is called “we sing a song to the madness of the brave.”
However, as is my nature, I’m getting ahead of myself — we still have a hell of a lot of pedaling to do to reach two kilometers.
A bit more about tracks — sites like https://gpsies.com and https://everytrail.com also served as sources. It's also very convenient that in Google Earth (where I usually lay out the route) you can instantly plug in the layer for the https://wikiloc.com site, which also has a ton of useful tracks. It once again confirmed the idea that it's not just the distance that matters, but the elevation profile too, so you don't end up having to storm the heights off-road at the end of the day. For this, the Google Earth software is an excellent assistant.
This concludes the portion of useful info, and starts what you love so much — emotional chewing gum and pics.
The day must begin with a hearty breakfast
Continue with a selfie against the mountains
The brutal Rybakov is ready to ride even on water
Grabbed lunch at the “Bake & Take” bakery
The views are instantly gorgeous
Sasha and I got to talking about how as soon as you get to new places, everything is so beautiful and interesting, and the further you go, the more beautiful it gets. But you get used to it instantly, your eyes get jaded, and the landscape no longer sparks the former delight — you have to look for something even grander again.
Blasting operations in progress
For gravel mining
Staring at the peacock, I forgot to unclip from my clipless pedals and landed sideways on the asphalt
Looks like they care about tourists, you can replenish your fluid supplies
But no, it's just an elegant joke, because there is no water supply at all (see the pipe in the back)
At this spot, by the way, the asphalt ended, but we had relatively little uphill riding left to do, otherwise it would have been tough. CTO routes are smartly planned — uphill on asphalt, and downhill on rocks and sand, just the way we, bike maniacs on rad bikes, love it. More than once or twice on this trip I was glad for our bikes — a supermarket shitbike would have fallen apart in half a day, not to mention that with the brakes of such a contraption, it's a surefire way off a cliff.
Beauty!
Rock textures are excellent
The last day with clouds
In Cyprus, sunny weather begins in late April and lasts all summer. During this time, there's sometimes not a cloud in the sky, let alone precipitation, and the temperature keeps rising and rising until it hits an unbearable forty degrees. We, thanks to skillful planning, arrived right in the season when the rains are gone, and the heat is still tolerable — 20 – 25 degrees, although thanks to the merciless southern sun, it turns into an infernal scorcher anyway. If you forget sunscreen with an SPF of at least 30, tomorrow you'll look like a zombie with chunks of skin falling off.
A little bit of aggressive me
Without persistence and determination, you can't conquer routes like this
Due to the abundance of flies, glasses are a must-have accessory
Sashka is pedaling into the unknown
Finally made it to the authentic pines
The nature in the park is sparse, but still quite interesting — there's a pleasant smell of pine needles, all around are spreading, stocky pines draped with some incredible amount of cones. The cones, by the way, grow right on the trunk (courtesy of Rybakow).
Since we were mostly busy trying to keep the bikes on the road and not fly off the mountain down into the abyss, there are almost no photos from the more forested area.
Eventually we reached an ancient lighthouse, which is just a rectangular shack, which is why I'm not even showing it to you. A hundred versts is no detour for a brave lad — although we had to climb 50 meters up, by that point it had become such a routine thing that nobody objected. When I say “50 meters up,” it's obviously hard for you to picture. Well, the height of a five-story building is about 17 meters. Turns out that 50 meters up means walking up to the 5th floor three times. From now on, picture it that way.
View of Akamas Bay from the ancient lighthouse. The cell tower is powered by solar panels — convenient and cheap
All sorts of wildlife inhabit the island, goats and mouflons, snakes and lizards
Posters like the one on the left are plentiful in Cyprus — apparently, there's no shortage of people wanting to shoot some things
But the funny poster on the right I am seeing for the first and last time in my life. Fortunately, not because I touched “military debris”.
While we were at it, Sashka suggested visiting the westernmost tip of the island. Rolling there is extremely uncomfortable — rocks and potholes, but upon arrival the view is beautiful, albeit marred by the omnipresent Christian symbolism.
As you know, all religion is poison for the mind, replacing sober judgment and rational thinking. I'd much rather think with my own entirely imperfect head than rely on a set of superstitions and prejudices.
Dipped the wheels in the Mediterranean Sea
We don't ride on other roads — too boring
Someone sees Jabba from Star Wars here, someone sees a frog, and people with an IQ of 40 see a pile of rocks
Blue Lagoon bay is nearby
The third day promised to be action-packed — nearby was the Akamas Peninsula, which was the very reason we came to the north-western edge of the island. Good thing Sashka dragged me out there (at the cost of several bus rides, admittedly), otherwise I would have just kept riding around Troodos all day long, and those days would have been numbered, because the mountains there are exceptionally mountainous. I was convinced by an article in The Guardian, where Akamas is praised to the skies.
Akamas is not just a cape, but a national park with numerous endemic plant species, and, luckily, almost no trace of humans. Which plays right into our hands as lovers of escaping civilization. To map our route, we used tracks created by the Cyprus Tourism Organisation (CTO), which are pretty decent. Though at times it feels like the track descriptions were written by someone with a big, malicious sense of humor (like many of my friends, so I can appreciate it). Far too often they throw around phrases like “a pleasant and easy route, nowhere does it have an elevation drop of more than 400 meters.” Maybe there is no drop, but the total elevation gain can easily be well over a kilometer, if not two. None of our friends have ever ridden that much — a 1.5-kilometer gain, especially if half of it is on dirt roads, is already considered very respectable, 1.8 is the ceiling, and anything over 2 is called “we sing a song to the madness of the brave.”
However, as is my nature, I’m getting ahead of myself — we still have a hell of a lot of pedaling to do to reach two kilometers.
A bit more about tracks — sites like https://gpsies.com and https://everytrail.com also served as sources. It's also very convenient that in Google Earth (where I usually lay out the route) you can instantly plug in the layer for the https://wikiloc.com site, which also has a ton of useful tracks. It once again confirmed the idea that it's not just the distance that matters, but the elevation profile too, so you don't end up having to storm the heights off-road at the end of the day. For this, the Google Earth software is an excellent assistant.
This concludes the portion of useful info, and starts what you love so much — emotional chewing gum and pics.
The day must begin with a hearty breakfast
Continue with a selfie against the mountains
The brutal Rybakov is ready to ride even on water
Grabbed lunch at the “Bake & Take” bakery
The views are instantly gorgeous
Sasha and I got to talking about how as soon as you get to new places, everything is so beautiful and interesting, and the further you go, the more beautiful it gets. But you get used to it instantly, your eyes get jaded, and the landscape no longer sparks the former delight — you have to look for something even grander again.
Blasting operations in progress
For gravel mining
Staring at the peacock, I forgot to unclip from my clipless pedals and landed sideways on the asphalt
Looks like they care about tourists, you can replenish your fluid supplies
But no, it's just an elegant joke, because there is no water supply at all (see the pipe in the back)
At this spot, by the way, the asphalt ended, but we had relatively little uphill riding left to do, otherwise it would have been tough. CTO routes are smartly planned — uphill on asphalt, and downhill on rocks and sand, just the way we, bike maniacs on rad bikes, love it. More than once or twice on this trip I was glad for our bikes — a supermarket shitbike would have fallen apart in half a day, not to mention that with the brakes of such a contraption, it's a surefire way off a cliff.
Beauty!
Rock textures are excellent
The last day with clouds
In Cyprus, sunny weather begins in late April and lasts all summer. During this time, there's sometimes not a cloud in the sky, let alone precipitation, and the temperature keeps rising and rising until it hits an unbearable forty degrees. We, thanks to skillful planning, arrived right in the season when the rains are gone, and the heat is still tolerable — 20 – 25 degrees, although thanks to the merciless southern sun, it turns into an infernal scorcher anyway. If you forget sunscreen with an SPF of at least 30, tomorrow you'll look like a zombie with chunks of skin falling off.
A little bit of aggressive me
Without persistence and determination, you can't conquer routes like this
Due to the abundance of flies, glasses are a must-have accessory
Sashka is pedaling into the unknown
Finally made it to the authentic pines
The nature in the park is sparse, but still quite interesting — there's a pleasant smell of pine needles, all around are spreading, stocky pines draped with some incredible amount of cones. The cones, by the way, grow right on the trunk (courtesy of Rybakow).
Since we were mostly busy trying to keep the bikes on the road and not fly off the mountain down into the abyss, there are almost no photos from the more forested area.
Eventually we reached an ancient lighthouse, which is just a rectangular shack, which is why I'm not even showing it to you. A hundred versts is no detour for a brave lad — although we had to climb 50 meters up, by that point it had become such a routine thing that nobody objected. When I say “50 meters up,” it's obviously hard for you to picture. Well, the height of a five-story building is about 17 meters. Turns out that 50 meters up means walking up to the 5th floor three times. From now on, picture it that way.
View of Akamas Bay from the ancient lighthouse. The cell tower is powered by solar panels — convenient and cheap
All sorts of wildlife inhabit the island, goats and mouflons, snakes and lizards
Posters like the one on the left are plentiful in Cyprus — apparently, there's no shortage of people wanting to shoot some things
But the funny poster on the right I am seeing for the first and last time in my life. Fortunately, not because I touched “military debris”.
While we were at it, Sashka suggested visiting the westernmost tip of the island. Rolling there is extremely uncomfortable — rocks and potholes, but upon arrival the view is beautiful, albeit marred by the omnipresent Christian symbolism.
As you know, all religion is poison for the mind, replacing sober judgment and rational thinking. I'd much rather think with my own entirely imperfect head than rely on a set of superstitions and prejudices.
Dipped the wheels in the Mediterranean Sea
We don't ride on other roads — too boring
Someone sees Jabba from Star Wars here, someone sees a frog, and people with an IQ of 40 see a pile of rocks
Blue Lagoon bay is nearby
Sage grows here too, though not the junkie Diviner's Sage (Salvia Divinorum) but the regular one, Greek Sage
The day went well, within our limits, the Akamas park is highly suitable for mountain bikers. Rybakov did complain that we encountered few cyclists, only three or four, and those weren't even in the mountains, whereas I had promised swarms and herds. On the other hand, this is exactly what we were looking for — the silence of pristine, untouched nature, if you will.
In the end, we rode 80 km (20 km of which was the round trip to our lodging) and gained more than a kilometer in elevation, which is decent, though not extreme. We were pretty damn exhausted, and the next day called for some rest, considering that an unprecedentedly massive mountain assault awaited us. But people with ants in their pants just can't sit still, so even on the third day we managed to pedal hard in the heat. Though, more on that in the next episode.
P.S. If there are too many pics for you — just know that I deleted three times as many.