Mounting Mountains

The very hot weather at Agdz was alleiviated by riding down to the palmery and cycling amongst the shaded vegetable plots where broad beans we had seen being planted only two weeks ago were now 2 feet high. As at the Auberge a pump was delivering huge amounts of water to the network of irrigation channels and the locals were hard at work. It was still Ramadam so no drink or food was being consumed during daylight hours - a very tough call - and the town was less lively as the cafes were closed. My rear tyre began losing air and proved impossible to inflate as the side wall had worn through and back at the campground I wasted two tubes trying to fit them before resorting to fitting a new tyre - this then required a trip in to town to use the garage air supply to seat the tyre - something I must find a work round for, once home. Anyway all was well again but now I have no spare 29'' tyres left until I can replace them in Italy in 8 weeks time.

 

I decided heading to Tazzarine and Camp Serdrar would be a chance to get laundry done so moved off there after a very relaxing stay. Serdrar was much much quieter than it had been a month ago - the large French vans with quads on trailers had all gone - most are overwintering French who only get the same 90 days as the rest of us so have presumably headed north. Ibraim suggested I took a spot in the corner with its own sun shelter and I enjoyed a leisurely afternoon undertaking domestic chores. An early departure next morning saw me avoid the heat with a ride on the back tracks in to town to get my phone topped up before returning via other tracks and passing through a very humble settlement with a surprisingly large mosque.

The following day as it felt a little cooler I set off on a route that took me along the track back towards Ait Ouili where we had ridden to the rock carvings but taking a turning south just before the village that picked up a rough track leading to the Taghbalte road after almost 20 miles. The track became more and more remote with a superb mountain range on my left and the route descending in to a dry, bouldery river bed at times. I persevered though and after a couple of lonely hours began to see signs of cultivation with water reserves, boreholes and plastic piping followed by a few houses and eventually tarmac. The return back seemed to go on a bit but at least I had avoided any mechanical issues which back along the route could have entailed a long hot walk out. A number of 4x4s on a rally roared past heading the other way but as before I figured they were not really getting a true hardcore experience. Somewhat knackered after 65 miles I took a long shower and retreated to my sun shelter for a much needed doze.

Strong winds the following day were whipping dust in to the air and reducing visibility so I decided to move  on back to Nekob and see what developed. Gas and food supplies were topped up and I drove down the now resurfaced road to the Auberge that was also empty of other customers. I had a good chat with the gardien and then settled in as the winds blew and an orange and red haze hid the normally crisp outline of the Djebl Saghro. This set the scene for the following day so I remained indoors as it was pleasantly cool and could keep most of the dust at bay until things died down and I rode in to town for some cash and to watch the local football teams in a fast moving game.

Despite the hazy conditions I moved on after 3 nights and found that there is indeed a good road over the Saghro towards Ikniounn which climbed steeply with many hairpins and some astounding mountain scenery discernible through the haze. I stopped to help a guy on a moped who had run out of fuel, giving him a nip of two stroke oil as well and passed a couple of places that would be amazing to stay at high up in the range - these will be for another time as the dust was still taking the edge off the spectacular tops and gorges.

Turning off before Ikniounn I soon reached Boumalne du Dades, stopped for fruit and veg in the market and then headed up the Dades gorge enjoying the multiple hairpins once more. Passing ever more desolate and remote villages I finally reached Mesmrir where I had turned back a decade ago and far below where we had turned back on the other side a few weeks previously. The tarmac finished in a small hamlet and then began to follow a valley floor clinging to the side beneath huge rocky overhangs. Then the climbing began in earnest and I chugged steadily for many miles up to 8,500' meeting some rather surprised adventure bikers on Africa Twins who were inching down on the loose scree covered route. I also met two mountain bike tourers and ensured they had plenty of water as they still had a way to go - mostly downhill but with great care needed. Having peered in to vast deep gorges and admired still snow covered ridges I eventually reached a flatter section which after a few miles reached the top of the pass where the tarmac began again. It was an amazing spot and having seen a flat area a mile or two back I retraced my steps and pulled off a good distance from the road. That evening I teased the heater in to working at altitude and enjoyed a hot shower as the wind howled and sleet fell. For the first time in weeks I deployed the silver screens and thermal covers for the other windows and slept soundly after an exhilarating day. Next morning the sun was out and the wind had eased so I took a walk up to the ridge finding the ascent noticeably harder as the air was thinner. From there looking out northwards over the spartan summits of the High Atlas I was amazed to spot a shepherd perhaps a 1000' below grazing his goats on goodness knows what. With binoculars I could make out a cave shelter under a low cliff and a  rough walled animal compound but as for water - nothing.

 

A few bikers and 4x4 groups plus some local pick ups and surprisingly quite a large lorry passed as the sleet returned but yet again quite remarkably there was a good 3G signal and I enjoyed catching up and reading the UK paper in a remarkable location. After another cosy night I was back to Auberge Tislit by the Lake at Imilchil having passed the point where we had turned back surprisingly close to the col but I think the descent would have been foolhardy, and the two small camping areas that are also on the list for next time. A lovely young guy called Bader was looking after the place and confirmed as we had suspected that his uncle had died a few years ago leaving his aunt to run the place but since our last visit she had required hospital care and was in Casablanca. Anyway I settled in having remembered to stop for bottled water and a couple of other vans turned up later in the afternoon. I walked round the lake noting that the snow was absent from all the surrounding peaks and was somewhat irritated by the young Spanish woman who disrobed right in front of the van to enter the water and retrieve her lad's football - a disrespectful act here in a very traditional rural community and particularly during holy month. Next day I saddled up and dropped in to the village before taking a long side valley stopping to talk to friendly villagers hard at work digging and irrigating and passing through some remarkable mountain scenery on a largely flat valley road with a good surface. This finally finished at a small village but I could see from my maps that the valley continued west for many miles and would ultimately lead to the remote area above which I had camped a couple of nights previously. Bread was available late afternoon as I cycled back and I joined a Spanish couple for tea in the house next to the quirky wood burner with Bader who turned out to be a very skilled portrait artist. I wish I could help him earn a living from his talent - any ideas .......

 

Leaving the beautiful lakeside spot was a wrench but I had plans to head east on a remote back road through the valley that contains the upper reaches of the Ziz river which disappears under the desert south of Merzouga and is lost under the Sahara in Algeria. It was a decent enough road compared to recent ones and took me through simple quiet villages and past humble pise homes, most sporting a dented satellite dish and the odd solar panel. I found a good place above the dry riverbed to park up and was rewarded with a magnificent night sky.

Down at Midelt I bought some food, got out the cash to pay for my impending trip and then spent some time exploring the possibility of tackling the Cirque De Jaffar, another long and demanding off road route. However I don't want to ask too much of the van and it was further than I would have liked, to cycle in, so decided to leave it for another opportunity. Near Itzer I stopped at a souk being held largely within a walled compound as it was a windy and exposed place and bought fruit and veg before taking the back road towards Khenifra. Midelt and Zaida lie on the plain between the High and Middle Atlas with Itzer marking the point at which the Middle Atlas start to rise with their cooler slopes allowing the huge Western Cedars to flourish. Local agriculture is centred on apple production and there were many new orchards setting up. The tarmac gave way to gravel as I climbed and passed through the forests looking for a place to stay. After passing through a wide valley with many nomadic Berber families around for the summer grazing I found a perfect spot off the road on the side of a clearing beneath some of the huge trees. The Berber tents and shelters were very simple and of course easily moved although in many cases this is by pickup now rather than mule. At around dusk a well turned out young Moroccan guy rolled up on a moped and indicated his flat rear tyre so I produced first the track pump and then hitched up the electric one but to no avail as he either had no tube or the sealant was long gone. We tried stuffing long rags between the rim and tyre wall but couldn't quite make a seal so feeling rather deflated I apologised and wished him well. However he indicated that he would like to borrow the pump so I let him disappear in to the darkness confident that it would return the following day. Two hours after sunset a feeble yellow light appeared through the trees and the guy was back with a friend and the pump and a repaired tyre - much handshaking and chokranning followed before they purred off to god knows where. It was a supremely peaceful night with a magical dawn chorus after which I moved on only a few miles to the large level area near Aguelmame Azigza that we have used before. The sinuous track that led there plunged in to a valley where by a wrecked bridge I realised it was a route I had attempted in 2013 but been defeated by heavy snow. I met two French adventure bikers and then Russ an American working in Casablanca, on a month's mountain biking in the area. We had a good chat and as he was heading to Imilchil eventually I suggested he stay with Bader as his lack of French was proving a hindrance. Soon after I noticed a lot of cows individually tethered to trees along the road and wondered if a livestock lorry was coming as Eid is imminent when a lot of meat is consumed. In fact further along there was a Ministry vet and his entourage administering vaccines and issuing cattle passports - as Morocco wishes to export to the EU it has to comply with traceability  regulations but I couldn't help wondering how these largely illiterate (absolutely no criticism intended - it is just the way out here) people with no acces to IT systems felt about this mysterious bureaucracy. 

 

Anyway at the park up all was quiet and I settled in to what is a very beautiful spot despite the disappointing amount of rubbish and broken glass - I have also noticed large piles of soiled nappies outside some villages, not an obvious feature of other visits and a sad development - Morocco will have to address its waste management as there is a sea of plastic spreading through the countryside and fouling the riverbeds. I guess perhaps like the Baltic states once its collection can be monetised the issue will slowly erode. Two people in a Moroccan plated Dacia wandered over later and said they had seen me a week ago - it turns out they had coaxed their hire car above the Dades gorge and seen me parked high up on the pass . Curly from the Netherlands and Helly an American were great company and had travelled widely but were now considering a camper to do Europe and beyond so as they were planning to stay the night I invited them over for a meal at dusk. This led to a memorable evening followed up by star gazing by the fire before we all retired to bed. They had a cold night in the car and were even more enthused by van life as I'd had the usual warm and cosy night so they left with much to consider. I set off on the bike to take rough tracks through the forests meeting the odd faintly surprised shepherd before dropping in to the largely red and brown buildings of Khenifra after passing small fields of wheat dotted with poppies and olive groves that made everywhere look almost European. It was a long climb back in to the hills passing some very stylish properties up in the foothills and I relaxed with the place to myself that evening other than a few monkeys in the trees and a pair of donkeys that enjoyed the pea pods.

Down at Khenifra I filled up with water at a public font where the Berber nomads were filling all manner of containers to take back in to the hills and then turned south once more heading for El Kbab and the mountain roads across towards Azilal. More amazing scenery, vibrant fields and tiny hamlets passed by before high up late afternoon I found a good pull off to stay the night. A local shepherd passed by and we exchanged simple pleasantries - I would love to have offered him a tea and some food but of course it is Ramadan for a final week so we just had a chat.

A long descent towards the Bin El Ouidane reservoir brought me in to Ouaouizahrt where a small shop had bread and other items to see me right and I bought some bottled water as I wasn't too sure about another font I had used en route. I then pitched up on what would normally be an island high above the depleted water's edge with superb views in every direction. There was one other van - a Belgian family - parked up and we all enjoyed one of the best locations of the trip as a cool breeze kept the heat at bay. I had taken advantage of the shade of one of the few trees and spoken to a shepherd lady and her grandson. Below us on the shore line a few tents were in situ - the lake is a popular carp fishery and the relevant website has photos of some remarkable specimens. An evening under the stars was enjoyed before I slept well but with all windows and vents open as it was so warm.

Yesterday I rode the 6 hilly miles back in to the village to get my phone topped up - two 50 dirham cards but I've no idea how much actual data that is! Back at the van I uploaded the photos below and enjoyed finishing Jay Blades' autobiography and made a start on James Dyson's. This follows the recommendation of Mike from Talybont to join Powys library online, download the BorrowBox app which along with the Libby app now means I have access to thousands of books, magazines and audio books - ten of each at a time downloaded for 28 days : brilliant.

 

I was about to leave shortly but two Belgian ladies have lost their cat and so have left its travel basket and lead with me whilst they drive off in search of it. They're also going to get food and water and if necessary stay another night in the hope it appears - another possibility is that it has jumped in to either of the French or German vans that left earlier so I shall linger in case they return until the Belgians get back.

Extra pics here as per usual , next post pre or post Toubkal ; there is a hint of showers and thunderstorms in the forecast over the next few days but at the moment the sky is cloudless so we'll wait and see......