The vista was so majestic that I needed to hit the brakes: the jagged limestone peaks of Mallorca’s Tramuntana Mountains tumbled all the way down to the cobalt-blue waters of the Balearic Sea, like a type of hyperrealistic laptop computer wallpapers. Snaking its method throughout this UNESCO-protected valley was a ribbon of asphalt, forming excellent switchbacks for a gradual trickle of muscular cyclists zipping by on their $10,000 carbon-fiber bikes.
I lastly understood why Sa Calobra, a route that hugs Mallorca’s northwest coast, is taken into account by critical cyclists to be one of many world’s most epic rides. Along with the chic views, it climbs a gradual 7 p.c gradient up 2,358 ft, with 26 hairpin turns culminating in an iconic 270-degree loop generally known as the “Knotted Tie.” No surprise skilled cyclists practice right here.
However I’m no professional. Positive, I bike to work in New York Metropolis, however I had by no means carried out a correct trip earlier than—the sort folks put up about on Strava, the social community for cyclists and runners. So as a substitute of a regular two-wheeler, I deliberate to sort out Sa Calobra with the help of an e-road bike. Not solely that, I used to be driving with my buddy Mark, a hardcore bike owner who logs round 150 miles every week and even despatched me his 10-page bike match report back to go alongside, in order that the biking tour guys had his precise saddle top and angle.
Avid cyclists are likely to look down their noses at e-bikes, however that’s beginning to change. E-bikes have made troublesome trails extra accessible to informal riders. Might in addition they bridge the divide between rookies and highway warriors, permitting them to trip collectively? That is what I aimed to seek out out.
We needed to go car-free, which meant beginning at our lodge, the Jumeirah Mallorca, a cliff-top resort overlooking the horseshoe-shaped Port de Sóller Bay and the Tramuntana Mountains. It’s one of many a number of luxurious motels on the island that cater to so-called Mamils (middle-aged males in Lycra), with facilities like customized excursions, bike concierges, high-end leases, assist vans, and cleansing stations. The total journey—there and again—would span 50 miles and climb a complete of seven,100 ft, throughout two camel-like humps.
To beat the June warmth, we awoke at 6:30 a.m. to fulfill Adrian Casanova, the enterprising co-founder of Medfeel, a biking outfit that companions with Jumeirah and different prime motels. He introduced two bikes: Mark would trip a Trek Madone SL 6 Gen 8—a featherweight machine with high-tech shifters; I’d trip a Trek Domane+ SRL6—an e-bike that regarded surprisingly regular with its compact battery and motor discreetly hidden within the glossy body. After a fast tutorial on methods to set off the pedal help with my thumbs, we have been off.
The morning air was a tad nippy as we glided previous the empty seashores of Port de Sóller and rumbled alongside a classic trolley observe. After exiting a site visitors circle, the highway tilted upward at a gradual 5 p.c grade. To keep up their tempo, Casanova (sure, that’s actually his title and what I referred to as him) and Mark started driving “out of the saddle”—that’s, they stood up on their pedals to generate energy with their higher physique. I activated my pedal help. As a substitute of a jolt, the increase felt easy and pure—as if my legs had joined a gymnasium with out telling me. I coasted up the hill, soaking within the stunning surroundings, listening for birdsong, and respiratory within the pine-scented air.
An hour in, Casanova stopped to examine my battery. It was already all the way down to 80 p.c and we nonetheless had a really lengthy option to go. He appeared involved. We discovered a free outlet behind a Coke merchandising machine and plugged in for quarter-hour whereas learning the route. At first, I believed the problem was whether or not I may sort out two of Mallorca’s largest climbs. (“We might by no means advocate this route for a newbie,” Casanova informed me earlier.) However the actual query turned out to be: who would run out of power first—me or the battery?
We pressed on. The panorama saved shifting: craggy white peaks of the Tramuntana Mountains drew nearer, pine forests grew sparser, and we dodged the occasional sheep. We reduce via a pair of windy tunnels, paused for gel-pack breaks, regarded out over shrub-covered valleys, and filmed video selfies alongside the emerald waters of the Gorg Balu reservoir.
Round 9:30 a.m., after driving about 17 miles and ascending 2,850 ft, we reached the precise begin of Sa Calobora—an in any other case unremarkable intersection close to an aqueduct with a concession stand. We refilled our water bottles. My battery was at 60 p.c. “You’ll need to preserve the battery right here,” Casanova stated, as we hopped again on our cycles.
The highway began flat however rapidly tilted uphill. The solar had burned off the morning clouds simply in time for the toughest a part of the trip. By the primary hairpin flip, the grade hit 11 p.c. I had no alternative however to crank the pedal help to Degree 3, the best setting. To maintain up with Mark and Casanova, I even discovered myself driving out of the saddle, too. And so it went for the following 2.5 miles: a relentless grind towards gravity and fatigue, till we lastly reached the two,238-foot summit, adopted shortly by the long-lasting 270-degree loop. We have been so excessive up that after I re-applied sunscreen, the lotion spurted from the bottle.
The remainder was all downhill—in the event you don’t rely the dozen extra hairpin turns and some too-picturesque-to-pass-up stops, together with a slender, cathedral-like passage referred to as Sa Bretxa. Following Casanova’s lead, I hit a prime velocity of 35 m.p.h. That gained’t break any information, but it surely felt exhilarating to fly all the way down to Port De Sa Calobra, the small village on the path’s finish.
Then got here vary anxiousness—my battery was all the way down to 42 p.c. We discovered a free charging station at a self-service cafeteria and plugged in. To go the time, we snacked on Iberian ham sandwiches and hiked via a slender tunnel to succeed in a secluded pebble seaside, framed by clear waters and towering cliffs on one facet, a dry riverbed on the opposite. I needed to leap into the ocean, however my Rapha biking bib wasn’t precisely swimwear.
By the point we received again to the cafe, the battery was at 95 p.c. Would that be sufficient to get again to the lodge? I had two strikes towards me: the noon solar and 25 miles already behind me. I hopped on and pushed ahead. Climbing up Sa Calobra from sea degree was brutal. I attempted to preserve power, however this was precisely after I wanted my robotic legs essentially the most, particularly round these tight hairpin turns. I used to be again all the way down to 42 p.c by the point I reached the 270-degree loop.
James Osmond/Getty Photographs
“Another massive climb to go,” Casanova stated, referring to Puig Main, which Strava customers price as “HC”—essentially the most troublesome classification. I gained’t lie; this half was a slog. It wasn’t a lot fatigue or my seat (a top-notch chamois pad helps!). It was the repetitive pressure on my shoulders after 5 hours of biking. However the actual punishment got here after the summit. Somewhat than pedal, I needed to clamp the brakes the complete method down. That most likely will get simpler with apply, however I needed to cease a number of instances. Good factor Mark had biked forward.
Casanova and I rolled into Port de Sóller round 3 p.m., simply as a warning mild began blinking—9 p.c battery left. After weaving via the beachfront crowds, I noticed Casanova had overlooked one last element:. the Jumeirah sits atop a 300-foot-high cliff, with some sections as steep as 20 p.c. I cranked up the pedal help to full energy and pushed my method up, arriving on the lodge’s round driveway with solely 7 p.c remaining. We have been each drained.
The valet took the bike to cost, whereas I joined Mark by the pool for a glass of champagne, earlier than heading to the spa for a deep-tissue therapeutic massage, adopted by an extended soak in a hydrotherapy pool with unobstructed views of the Tramuntana Mountains. No, I didn’t trip like a professional bike owner—however I recovered like one.
