I’d heard a lot about the ‘Gran Guanche’ ultrabikepacking event, but it was the trail version in particular that really caught my imagination: Several islands, linked by ferries, with gravel tracks and trails in between, overnight stays in the open air and a dash of unpredictability – exactly the sort of adventure I’d been dreaming of. After nights spent planning, my Christmas holiday itinerary was finalised: a personalised Gran Guanche trail tour across the Canary Islands. Not as a race, but as an expedition. With a focus on trails, but open to whatever might come my way. And I knew full well that there’d be plenty to contend with: the weather, solitude and my own physical limits would put me to the test. But that’s exactly why you go on a solo tour. It’s an adventure where every kilometre counts and every decision has consequences.
Lanzarote – where the wind welcomes me
Right from the start at Arrecife Airport, this trip feels different from a typical holiday in the Canary Islands. Whilst others wait for their bus, I assemble my bike right outside the terminal. There’s even a bike stand provided for this. An airport employee stops and asks, with interest, about my planned route. He proudly shows me photos of his own rides – a taste of things to come. Around midday, I set off. The track follows the east coast northwards, surprising me with more trail sections than I’d expected. Flat, flowing sections are repeatedly followed by deep sand that swallows up every pedal stroke.
To the right, the deep-blue Atlantic crashes against the shore, whilst out on the waves the surfers dance. A quick stop at a bar, then on to Órzola to stock up on provisions. In the late afternoon, I cycle up to the Batería del Río. The wind is blowing harder and the daylight is fading faster than I’d expected. I reach the spot I’d planned at home for my bivouac in complete darkness. It’s a strange feeling not being able to see what’s around you.
Golden Light & Lunar Worlds
I wake up with the sun – and to a panorama that makes it all worthwhile. The golden morning light bathes the coast and the sea in an almost surreal atmosphere. Lanzarote is one long balancing act: desert and ocean, rugged yet vibrant. My day is defined by the headwind. Trails, gravel and tarmac lead me past Caleta de Famara through barren, moon-like landscapes that withstand the roaring surf.
Later, Timanfaya National Park engulfs me with its lava fields stretching for kilometres. Everything is dry and devoid of vegetation. So I’m all the more surprised by a rain shower at the highest point. The temperatures take a sudden turn. So I decide to head straight for Playa Blanca, where I spend Christmas on my own, but in a luxurious hotel. With the Atlantic before my eyes, my thoughts are with my family. A quiet evening, before the next island calls.
Fuerteventura – Vastness, Hunger & Improvisation
I take the ferry to Fuerteventura, arriving in Corralejo around midday. A tailwind, sunshine – perfect conditions. Kilometres of gravel tracks stretch along the north-west coast, initially still quite touristy, then becoming increasingly deserted. It’s only later that I realise my mistake: I hadn’t planned to restock. When I arrive in Ajuy, there’s just one restaurant open – and every table is taken. After a bit of pleading, I manage to get a portion of lasagne after all. The waitress even recommends I spend the night on the beach. There are showers there. Small encounters that have a big impact. With a full stomach, I enjoy the sunset in the evening and plan the next day.
The ride to Morro Jable ferry terminal the next morning gets off to a relaxed start, until a sharp stone slashes my rear tyre. The tubeless setup is beyond repair. Reluctantly, I fit my only spare inner tube. The remaining kilometres to Morro Jable turn into a balancing act. I mustn’t risk another puncture, but I need to catch the 4 pm ferry to Las Palmas in good time. I’m lucky – no further mishaps. The ferry crossing to Gran Canaria goes smoothly and I still have enough time in the evening to sort out a new rear tyre in Las Palmas. If the whole thing had happened at the weekend, most bike shops would have been closed.
Gran Canaria – Mountains, doubts and a scare
Gran Canaria welcomes me with tarmac: 60 kilometres roll swiftly out of the city and into the countryside. Just before Maspalomas, the track veers sharply northwards and leads into the mountains. The barren mountain landscape is interrupted just once on this climb by a seemingly magical grove of palm trees. Fascinated, I savour this little oasis and can hardly believe that I’ve already almost reached the day’s 2,000-metre elevation gain.
As the sun sets, I reach San Bartolomé de Tirajana, where I eat the best oranges of my life and top up my supplies. But my campsite is on a ridge: another 300 metres of elevation gain that I have to cover, pushing my bike and using my headtorch. No sooner have I settled into my sleeping bag than a bright beam of light hits me. For a brief moment, the blood freezes in my veins. A figure emerges from the darkness, stops at a distance and says not a word. Only after a few tense seconds do we exchange a few sentences – where I’m from, where I’m going, whether I’m spending the night here. That’s all I find out. With a curt “Good night”, the stranger disappears into the woods, just as silently as he had appeared. I can’t get the encounter out of my mind. My mind is racing; sleep is out of the question that night.
Trails, Tejeda & genuine encounters
The sunrise dispels the night-time thoughts – at least gradually. The night-time encounter still stings like a thorn, but as I ride along the first flowing trails and secluded gravel paths through the mountains of Gran Canaria, it fades into the background. The clear highlight today is the trail towards Tejeda. After the long miles of gravel, it demands my full concentration once again. Yet I reach my pre-booked accommodation above Tejeda without taking a tumble.
A hostel run by an incredibly friendly family. I wonder if they’d mind washing my dirty clothes? At dinner, I sit with other travellers; we swap stories and have a relaxed evening. After all those lonely hours on my bike, this place feels just right.
Risco Trail & the dramatic coastline
Refreshed, we continue first along a short stretch of trail around Tejeda, then along a quiet mountain road towards Artenara. The views here are reminiscent of Monument Valley in the USA: rugged cliffs, deep gorges and the seemingly endless sea. Next comes the longest trail of the trip so far: from the summit of Risco Alto down to El Risco – a descent of around 1,300 metres through challenging, sometimes heavily bouldered terrain, tight hairpin bends, short climbs and then some flowing sections again.
The trail is solid, but not outstanding. It demands more concentration than it rewards with a sense of flow. However, the view of the Atlantic and the silhouette of Mount Teide on Tenerife makes up for the effort. After a well-deserved cappuccino break in El Risco, I carry on along an old coastal road – now closed to motor traffic – towards Agaete. This weathered, dramatic road looks like a post-apocalyptic monument – visibly threatened by decay.
On the ferry, I take a look at the stages still to come and decide to switch my set-up back to tubeless on Tenerife and also fit an enduro tyre at the front. Just to be on the safe side.
Tenerife – Expectations & Reality
The morning in Santa Cruz de Tenerife gets off to an almost suspiciously relaxed start. I take my time, stroll through the old town, sit down in one of the many cafés and order a hearty breakfast. After the past few days, city life feels almost alien. But by midday, I’m seized by a sense of adventure. My destination is the Anaga Regional Park in the north-east of the island. My expectations are high: lush vegetation, mystical forests, hidden paths.
In terms of scenery, you certainly won’t be disappointed here – the climb covers around 1,200 metres of elevation gain through an impressively green mountain landscape. However, this is the only road here, and you have to share it with day-trippers. The whole idea behind the Gran Guanche Trail – to stay as far away from traffic as possible – takes a back seat here for the first time.
Once at the top, Tenerife once again reveals its stunning scenery, though it offers few opportunities for serious riding: many of the trail options are off-limits to mountain bikers, so I combine gravel descents with short sections of trail.
In the afternoon, I reach San Cristóbal de La Laguna. The old town, with its lively bars and cafés, would be the perfect place for a longer break. But I still have a 600-metre climb ahead of me, and I need to stock up on supplies in La Esperanza before the shops close. Shortly before sunset, I finally reach the official, though unstaffed, campsite ‘Zona de Acampada de Las Calderetas’. No mobile signal, the toilet facilities are closed – but there’s pleasant company once again. Along with a group of walkers, Andrea and Florian from Augsburg arrive in the evening, and I sit and chat with them for a long time.
A mistake with far-reaching consequences
New Year’s Eve. The weather forecast is poor, so I want to make the most of the last good day to cross the Teide plateau. The first ten kilometres through the Reserva Natural Especial de las Palomas are absolutely stunning: dense forests, soft ground, tranquillity. Then I ignored the warning signs. What follows is one of the toughest stretches of the entire journey. Three kilometres, just under three hours. A former forest fire, followed by a storm, has knocked hundreds of trees across the trail. Still motivated at first, I climb over trunks, carry my bike and squeeze my way through the branches. But it never ends. Every metre costs energy, time and nerves.
In the end, my only option is to take a forest track that forces me down 700 metres in elevation – completely contrary to my planned route. Frustrated, exhausted and mentally drained, I take a long break and reflect on the day. I’d originally planned to spend New Year’s Eve at a campsite near Vilaflor, but after this detour, it’s clear I won’t make it there today. I’m left with two options: either I cut my stay on Tenerife short and take the bus to Los Cristianos the next day – or I give it another go and head up the park road to the Teide Plateau. I opt for the latter.
Shortly before sunset, I reach a rest area at an altitude of around 1,700 metres. Although I’m unable to enjoy the view of the coastal town of Puerto de la Cruz and the midnight fireworks, the spot does offer peace and quiet and crisp mountain air. I enjoy the quiet night and let the day’s experiences sink in at my own pace.
Snow & Storm
I set off the next morning before sunrise. The wind is icy, with temperatures just above zero. After climbing the first few metres, the forest thins out – and suddenly it lies before me: the snow-capped Teide, Spain’s highest mountain. Majestic, intimidating, beautiful. High up on the mountain, the wind blows brutally against me, tugging at the handlebars. It’s only on a gravel track that it eases off and I can enjoy the high-altitude volcanic landscape. Spectacular scenery, surprisingly fun to ride – even if the official park road offers the ‘greater’ volcanic experience.
At 12 o’clock sharp, just before Vilaflor, it starts to rain. Within minutes, the drizzle turns into a torrential downpour that even my Goretex jacket can’t cope with. I reach the village soaking wet, but I know there’s still a 1,500-metre descent to come. I decide to give the planned Supertrail a miss – it’s too dangerous in these conditions. Instead, I ride down the mountain road into the valley, arrive at my hotel half-frozen and spend what feels like an hour under a hot shower. It’s not until the evening that I sort out dinner and my washing.
La Palma – Fire in the night
Early in the morning, I cycle the last few kilometres to the harbour at Los Cristianos and take the ferry to La Palma. The crossing is rough, and many passengers are struggling with the heavy seas. It’s raining when I arrive, so I start with a break in a café before tackling the climb up to the hut at the foot of the Roque de los Muchachos. 1,800 metres of ascent on a 4x4 track, but: the hut is there – complete with a fire pit. I gather some wood and light a fire with some matches I’d bought especially for the occasion. A lovely, warm night. Alone at this altitude, lost in my thoughts, the adventure suddenly feels authentic again.
Wind, Rain & Lava
By morning, the warmth has vanished. The higher I climb, the stronger the wind blows. On the exposed mountain pass, I make a point of keeping my distance from the precipice – gusts are tugging at the handlebars. Shortly before the summit, the rain starts again and the view vanishes into the grey. Under these conditions, the planned La Palma Supertrail across several summits seems pointless. Instead, I plunge into an alternative trail descent. Unfortunately, it is badly eroded and scarred by gullies.
I reach Los Llanos in the afternoon. The petrified lava flows from the 2021 volcanic eruption still lie across the landscape like scars – impressive, yet harrowing. The weather forecast doesn’t bode well for tonight either, so, reluctantly, I book an overpriced flat and spend the night in the small town.
A fitting conclusion
The final day begins with a bit of sunshine. I cycle through small settlements along the lava flows towards the mountains. Above El Paso, a fairytale-like volcanic landscape opens up – but sadly, it is swallowed up by clouds again as the morning progresses. But the final stretch towards Santa Cruz makes up for everything: dense forest, almost like the Amazon, damp earth, perfect grip. Flow, rhythm. A final shower just before the finish – then I roll into Santa Cruz, soaking wet but over the moon.
My thoughts on the Gran Guanche Trail
The Gran Guanche Trail demands everything: fitness, kit, mental stamina – and, last but not least, your own expectations. The islands don’t always reward you with a perfect flow; many trails require your full concentration and a willingness to make compromises. That is precisely what gives this route its character.
When you’re on the move, your perspective on things changes – on your own expectations and on what really matters. And yet, for me, the Gran Guanche Trail isn’t over yet. Standing barefoot in the sand at Santa Cruz, with my bike beside me, it dawns on me: Between road closures, storms and sensible decisions, I’ve missed out on quite a few sections. There are still plenty of trails on the islands that I wasn’t able to ride on this tour. The route ends here – but my curiosity about what remains unfinished lingers on.
Information about the Gran Guanche Trail
Weather and equipment
Although the Canary Islands are considered a year-round destination, it can still get surprisingly cold and rainy, particularly in winter. Warm and waterproof clothing is therefore an absolute must in your luggage. On La Palma and Tenerife, the route takes you through areas at altitudes of between 1,000 and 2,000 metres. Snowfall is possible in these regions during the winter.
Accommodation
The Canary Islands offer accommodation in almost every price range – from simple guesthouses to upmarket hotels. If you’re flexible with your travel plans, you can usually book accommodation without any trouble a day in advance via booking platforms. However, the choice of popular or remote locations is often considerably limited.
Safety on the road
The Canary Islands also have some very remote areas with limited infrastructure and little traffic. A sat-nav with live tracking and automatic accident detection can be particularly useful for solo travellers. This ensures that emergency contacts back home are kept informed of your current location and can respond more quickly in the event of an emergency.
GPS data
The GPS data for the tour is available at granguanche.com
Information on current trail conditions
Before setting off on long hikes or bike-packing trips, it is advisable to check the current trail and route conditions:
- La Palma: Information on road closures and restrictions can be found at visitlapalma.es/la-palma/estado-incidencias/
- Tenerife: Up-to-date route information at tenerifeon.es/en/routes
- Gran Canaria: Official information on the current condition of the trails is limited. General information on walking trails is available from grancanaria.com/turismo/en/nature/mountain-sports/trekking
- Lanzarote & Fuerteventura: Unfortunately, there is no official, up-to-date information available here regarding road closures or road conditions.
It is still advisable to check the local conditions on all the islands, as weather events or landslides can lead to closures at short notice.