If we are in Tafalla—one of the few passing points on the main rIBERIA track with a city "vibe"—we could practically say we are in the capital of the so-called Zona Media de Navarra (Middle Zone of Navarre). This toponym, applied to our route, helps define the territory's cycling profile: during the 80 kilometers that the track runs through it, the difficulty also remains "medium"; there are no major mountain passes, but it is by no means flat.
We could have also opened this text in nearby Olite (just 4 kilometers from Tafalla), though in that case, we would be speaking of a capital from a tourism standpoint, as we would find ourselves in one of the towns that has rightfully become one of the most visited in Navarre.

The towns that will emerge along our path once the ride begins will almost all be strategically perched on elevated promontories with a clearly defensive character, overlooking cereal fields and scrubland occasionally dotted with vineyards and olive groves. It will be common to put some serious effort into the pedals when navigating their steep, cobblestone streets.

Between Puente la Reina and Estella—optional points along the route—we will share geography and occasional track sections with the Camino de Santiago and its pilgrims. You will undoubtedly notice this if you stay overnight in any of the villages that the route crosses in this section.
The "medium" difficulties end when the track begins to climb towards the Sierra de Andia in the town of Arínzano. Although administratively it remains the Middle Zone, for our bikes it is already the "High Zone."
We leave behind the banks of the Ebro's tributaries—the Cidacos, Arga, and Ega rivers—between which we have been hopping until now, to plunge abruptly into the world of sierras and mountains.

It is worth noting this piece of data: the difficulty of this first ascent sets the tone, to some extent, for the rest of the major climbs in rIBERIA. The road we encounter during the climb, which we follow for 2 kilometers to the Lizarraga Pass, acts as a dividing line between the Andia and Urbasa mountain ranges—two different names for the same geological unit.
During the 115 kilometers of the "High Zone," the common denominator will be the intense green of the vegetation. The vast Urbasa Meadows will be broken up by the "cliffs" of Ubaba and the extremely solitary Sierra de Lókiz.

The track has already turned southwest, and green continues to paint the landscape when, in the town of Kampezu, we enter the Autonomous Community of the Basque Country and the region known as the Montaña Alavesa. The stay will be brief: with barely any rest, the climb—not as demanding as the previous ones—to the Sierra de Cantabria will begin. For our bikes, this mountain range will be a simple gateway to the "universe" of La Rioja, but in geographical terms, it forms a long "spine" that connects the mountain chains running completely across the north of the Iberian Peninsula, serving as a link between the Pyrenees and the Cantabrian Mountains—1,500 kilometers of peaks between Cap de Creus on the Mediterranean and Cape Finisterre, the ancient "End of the Earth" on the Atlantic Ocean.

We can assure you that our entry into the Rioja Universe will be "in grand style." The pass-village of La Población—once again in Navarre—at an altitude of 987 meters, becomes a privileged viewpoint ushering in a new setting for rIBERIA. Emerging before our wheels is the great depression carved out—this time indeed—by the Ebro river between the Sierra de Cantabria to the north and the Sistema Ibérico with the Sierras of Cameros and La Demanda to the south. We enter La Rioja.

The most logical line to follow is the road, perfectly adapted to the folds of the sierra, which we will practically not leave until reaching the walled town of Laguardia. Here, the past is palpable and somehow highlighted on every side... if you follow the sequence, it will lead you step-by-step all the way back to prehistory.

In Laguardia, we are in the heart of Rioja Alavesa. We are wrapping up the 45 kilometers of the track that, administratively speaking, correspond to the rIBERIA kilometers in the Basque Country.
Viticulture is the almost absolute ruler of the landscape; no matter where we look, there will be a vine nearby. And always, not far off, some winery standing out against the scenery—sometimes avant-garde and seeking to make a statement, other times traditional and occasionally even wanting to hide beneath the earth. It will be difficult to remember them all.

After crossing the medieval town of Elciego, the track dresses up in style at the Guggenheim-esque Marqués de Riscal winery and guides us to present ourselves, for the first time since the beginning of this text, before the waters of the Ebro—the River of our Gravel.
Once the introductions are over, we will continue along the solitude of the left bank until the bridge at Lapuebla de Labarca allows us to cross the river, enter what is now formally the Community of La Rioja, and begin to climb almost stealthily up the slopes—still close to the river but already part of the foothills of the Iberian Range.

The first towns we cross in these opening kilometers through Rioja Alta will bring us back to the medieval atmosphere we experienced earlier in some of the Navarrese towns traversed by the Camino de Santiago. That atmosphere will not last long: as the wheels begin to descend toward the Iregua Valley and the track undulates, now adapting to the folds of the Sierra de Cameros, we will have entered Rioja Oriental. Vineyards will cease to be hegemonic, and rIBERIA will begin to acquire its more austere character.

We have plenty of Rioja Oriental ahead... after the first few kilometers skirting Logroño, where we pass through different towns across typical riverside territory, the track leads us into the Jubera Valley and begins to climb—first gently, and then relentlessly—toward the Sierra de Cameros. Here we travel through a territory that, due to its isolation, is beginning to be known in literature as "the Riojan Alpujarras," home to some of the highest inhabited settlements in La Rioja, such as Zenzano (1,003m) and Santa Marina (1,248m).

In sporting terms, we are in demanding territory: from the 1,330-meter altitude of the Zenzano Mountains, the track drops to 575 meters at the bridge crossing the Jubera River and climbs back up to 1,333 meters on the slopes of Cabizmontero, now in the Sierra de La Hez. From here, a comfortable descent drops us off at 680 meters in Arnedillo. As you can see, the elevation changes are significant...
In the process, we have changed geography and entered the Cidacos basin, where the characteristic, intense orange rock walls paint a landscape that is hard to forget.

The Cidacos Valley, with the nearby industrial town of Arnedo, provides the route with a welcome respite filled with comforts and services before we submerge ourselves once more into the mountains of the Iberian Range, through what we could informally call "The Rioja of the Dinosaurs."
The region treasures a vast variety of remains from that geological era, something we will see indicated and explained on various signs and information panels. But information aside, the territory at times takes on a true "Jurassic Park" atmosphere where, in the absence of dinosaurs, you can be sure that from afar, some wolf is watching us.
It is in this setting that we cross El Hocijo, the final demanding climb of the route through Rioja Oriental and a pass that connects Préjano with Muro de Aguas and Villarroya—villages where the human presence somewhat softens the harshness of the terrain.

For 40 kilometers, we travel at mid-altitude along the southern slopes of the Sierra de Yerga, thus staying away from the "excessive" wind turbines that saturate the mountain's crest line. This mid-altitude journey through terrain relatively close to inhabited areas gives rise to a sequence of settings where a harsh terrain base—that of the dinosaurs—is occasionally made gentler by almond trees, olive trees, some cereal fields, and occasional vineyards.

In sporting terms, during the final kilometers of the track in Rioja Oriental between Grávalos and Valverde, the route becomes less demanding. There are no longer any climbs significant enough to earn that label. For a few brief kilometers, we re-enter Navarre at the town of Fitero, and once again, without warning, we return to the most undiscovered La Rioja along the Alhama River before positioning ourselves at the base of the Montes del Cierzo.
Here begins the rIBERIA of Aragón—200 kilometers of track where the Sierra del Moncayo stops being a distant horizon and becomes a constant presence.

The Montes del Cierzo are not too demanding a barrier in sporting terms. A 200-meter climb and an 18-kilometer ride separate us from Tarazona, a settlement with the "vibe" of a small city and an almost mandatory intermediate milestone between stages in rIBERIA.
They are, nevertheless, the hills that give the wind its name in this part of the Ebro Valley when it blows cold from the north... "Sopla Cierzo" (The Cierzo is blowing), they say. An honor for them, a punishment for us when it starts up.

Thirty kilometers separate Tarazona from the Sanctuary of the Virgen del Moncayo. All of them, except for a brief descent of barely 2 kilometers, are uphill. If we stick strictly to the numbers, it packs 1,355 meters of accumulated elevation gain, making it the most demanding mountain pass in rIBERIA. The reality, however, is that the route is manageable, featuring good road surfaces and a steady, moderate incline except for a few specific moments. The climb to the very top can be bypassed, as a 12-kilometer section with 550 meters of elevation is shared on both the way up and down—but skipping it means removing the "lighthouse" of the route. The decision is entirely up to each rider.

Once down from this "colossus," and for the next 70 kilometers, the track follows the folds of the Sierra del Moncayo in a constant rolling terrain across its slopes—with moments of considerable physical intensity—passing through small towns that emerge quite regularly: Litago, Trasmoz, Alcalá de Moncayo... Although it runs at a lower altitude than the preceding section, the route becomes somewhat wilder and more solitary, if that is even possible. This is felt with greater intensity once we clear the Collado de Añón and navigate the somewhat rough tracks between Talamantes, Tabuenca, and Fuendejalón.

We are now in the territory known as Campo de Borja. The demanding passes are behind us, though that does not mean occasional climbs up minor hills have disappeared. Before our eyes, the now classic—because they are so common—fields of cereal, olive trees, vineyards, and wasteland unfold.
When we leave behind the welcoming town of Magallón and, after a brief effort, come to a halt at the viewpoint of the prehistoric hillfort of Cabezo El Burren, we will look toward the east. The vastness of the plains stretching out before us signals that we are at the eastern boundaries of rIBERIA. The Iberian Range, which has been our constant guide, veers south here... bidding us farewell. We now set our own course, seeking out the Ebro River once again to start closing the route's loop.

Nevertheless, there are 60 kilometers between Cabezo El Burrén and the moment we cross the Ebro in Ribaforada. In the interim, we cross the town that gives its name to the Campo de Borja region, and between the slopes of the Sanctuary of Misericordia and the "once again excessive" wind turbines of El Puntal, we find ourselves at the top of the El Buste Viewpoint. From here, if we look north and the atmosphere is clear, we can already discern with some clarity the singular landscape of Las Bardenas of Navarre and Aragón, which our track will traverse entirely from south to north.

The terrain is fast and relatively comfortable until crossing the Ebro for the second time. We have ridden 400 kilometers since we first crossed it in Lapuebla de Labarca, in La Rioja. This time, the bridge that allows it is located between Ribaforada and Fustiñana. Right after the latter, the climb to the first of the Bardenas begins: La Bardena Negra.

It is not easy to strike the right balance when speaking about the Bardenas and cycling. If we complete the ride without detouring to spend the night in one of the "Desert Cities" located on its perimeter, the track section between the entry point in Fustiñana and the exit point in Carcastillo spans 76 kilometers.
If the weather conditions are good, the route is not far from being considered something of a "greenway." The catch is that along these 76 kilometers, there are no villages or inhabited places, there is no water, and mobile phone coverage can be unstable or directly non-existent. There is no need to exaggerate the risks, but we cannot ignore them either. If it is very hot and a problem arises, you have a real problem... We must plan to be completely self-sufficient.

The 400 meters of climbing to La Plana de la Negra are, as we will see, more of an orange desert than a black one, but colors aside, they plunge us without hesitation into the heart of the Bardenero universe and its hidden corners.

A simple stretch of road, the NA-125, separates the two Bardenas. Crossing it is all it takes to enter the second one, La Bardena Blanca.
Weaving at times through Navarre and at times through Aragón, the track heads northward with little hesitation. It becomes somewhat more "humanized" near the military bombing range and, more permanently, when we reach the Monument to the Shepherd, the official northern entry point to the Bardenas Reales of Navarre.

After the "oases" of Carcastillo and Murillo El Fruto, and with the Bardenas now behind us, we return to the Zona Media of Navarre. We do so by climbing what, in sporting terms, we could well call the Ujué pass, as it is a demanding ascent. What we find at the summit is a semi-walled medieval village perched on a hill and visible from all the surrounding territories. We could say it stands as another "lighthouse" for rIBERIA, and it is undoubtedly one of the most spectacular villages in Navarre.
From the top, 20 descending kilometers separate us from the starting point of this text in Olite. Mid-descent, the wine-producing village of San Martín de Unx grants us a brief moment of relaxation.