Yesterday, I walked from the boundary of the Las Cañadas National Park to the red volcanic cone of Montaña Colorada. The walk descends on forest trails giving excellent views of the surrounding forests of the Ifonche region and also the Adeje Mountains. The weather was very hazy, which restricted the views to a degree but I was still able to get some reasonable shots during the walk.
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| El Sombrerito at the start of the walk, near the entrance to the Las Cañadas National Park. Pico Viejo and Mt.Teide can be seen in the background. |
Walking to Montaña Colorada, Tenerife.
Walking in the Teno Mountains
I have been busy guiding recently and as I sat having a post walk drink and chat with one of the walkers, I realised that one of the things that gives me most pleasure when showing people around this wonderful island is their reaction to some of the stunning scenery.
This was brought home to me particularly this week as I led a walk in the Teno Mountains on a route above Masca. I have walked this route many times in the past and although I never tire of the superb views into the Masca Valley, it was nice to have my eyes 're-opened' by the reactions of those seeing them for the first time.
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| Masca from the summit of Pico Verde |
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| The Teno Mountains |
Upon reaching the vertiginous summit of Pico Verde, we enjoyed spectacular aerial views down to Masca hundreds of feet below, while a strong wind made us ever mindful of the narrow ridge we were perched on. Later, we climbed to the summit of Pico de Gala, which is a much more sedate affair as an access road leads all of the way to the communications aerials and fire tower adorning the summit.
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| The Palmar Valley |
From here there are more stunning views to Masca and also the Palmar valley, as well as La Gomera and the coastline of Tenerife. Later, as we emerged from a magical section of laurisilva forest, we were greeted by the sight of the majestic peak of Teide and it's near neighbour Pico Viejo.
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| Teide & Pico Viejo |
Although I never tire of this view, it was nice to hear the enthusiastic comments of others to remind myself just how lucky I am to be living here on this beautiful island.
Walking to The Deserted Village in a calima
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| The Deserted village of Las Fuentes |
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| Cave house in Las Fuentes |
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| Finca Montiel |
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| The Island of La Gomera from El Choro |
Walking from Tenerife's National Park to it's highest village
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The Parador with Tenerife's 2nd highest peak, Pico Viejo, in the background  Leaving the Parador, I headed towards Montaña Guajara, Tenerife's fourth highest peak at just under 9,000ft. .  After forty minutes of walking, I was on the summit of the pass, where I stopped briefly for a snack and to enjoy the stunning views of the National Park and the Parador below, now reduced to the size of a dolls house.  From the pass, the route tracked diagonally below cliffs towards the summit, although from here, the path was not immediately obvious.  The climb involved some minor scrambling over boulders with sheer drops hundreds of feet to the caldera floor below.  After one hour thirty minutes of walking, I reached the summit of Montaña Guajara, where I stopped for a short break to enjoy the views of Teide and the National Park.  Gran Canaria apparently floating in the sky from the summit  The Ucanca Valley from the summit  The east coast and Gran Canaria from the GR131  The Barranco de Las Arenas from the GR131  Descending from the summit, I joined the European GR131 route and began descending towards Montaña Arena, a black sand volcanic cone below Montaña Guajara. Here, the path becomes a boulder-lined route across this surreal black 'beach'  Descending swiftly, I joined the path to the Lunar Landscape, a valley of wind and rain eroded pumice pinnacles.   After a steep descent, the outlying houses of Vilaflor, the highest village in Tenerife, came into view.  After just under five hours of walking and jogging, I arrived in the centre of the village and one of the most welcome views on the whole walk! |
Walking Tenerife's Royal Roads
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| Ruins of San Jose Chapel |
Before the arrival of the TF1 motorway and the TF28, the old high level road it replaced, travel across Tenerife was along the camino real, or royal ways. These old trade routes linked towns and villages across the island and many of them are still in existence today. Lately, tourist authorities on Tenerife appear to have realized that attracting walkers to the island is good for tourism and a comprehensive program of path restoration and signposting has been undertaken in the last few years. One of the problems I have found however, much as I welcome this initiative, is that the authorities seem a little shy in promoting their work. It is often difficult to find any literature at all relating to the new network of paths and when I have found any, it is usually so poor that it is of limited use.
Today, I decided to walk a section of the southern camino real that extends from El Escobonal to Fasnia and passes through the Barranco De Herques, using directions taken from a website of footpaths in the area. I had printed off a short walk that utilizes part of this five kilometer path between the villages with the intention of exploring the ravine.
The walk directions advise parking on or around the TF28 road bridge across the barranco, and although there are spaces on the bridge where it would be possible to leave a car, I felt uncomfortable with this idea so drove to La Escobonal where I located a camino real signpost. Parking nearby, I set off downhill on a narrow metalled lane following the green and white signposts and paint markings. The scenery in the Agache region is not the most picturesque, being a very arid, desert-like area but I was hoping that I would find something of interest to compensate for the lack of scenic splendor and I have to say that with the help of the superb waymarks and information boards, the walk proved to be a delight.
Initially, I descended on narrow, tarmac lanes and dirt tracks to the Casa Del Cura, an old 17th century house and birthplace of José Castro, founder of the San Joaquin church in Fasnía. From here, I followed more signposts to the wonderfully preserved ruins of the San José chapel, which has the partial remains of walls on three sides and a simple wooden altar and benches on a wooden floor. Mass is held here on the last Sunday of every month in spring and summer.
Behind the altar, on one of the remaining wall sections, is a crude wooden cross and the whole 'building' is reached by steps leading up from the narrow Camino Real. The chapel, which is located in a lofty location with the sea forming an impressive backdrop, was destroyed by a storm in the Agache region in 1927 and a new church built in the higher part of El Escobonal
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| Beñamo Mountain |
Close by is Montaña Béñamo, a sacred Guanche site where once existed a tagoror, or circle of stones on the peak, where the community leaders held meetings. The hill was also reputed to have had trees growing on the summit which were cut down and used in the building of the original chapel. From here, I followed a track passing terracing to arrive at the Barranco De Herques, an impressive example dividing the municipalities of Güimar and Fasnía.
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| Herques ravine In 1770, naturalist José de Viera y Clavijo discovered a high ceilinged cave in the ravine and wrote that it was ' full of mummies, counting no less than one thousand'. The location of the cave appears to have since been lost in time once again, despite subsequent numerous attempts to re-locate it.
Reaching a rural road I followed it back up to the TF28, which I followed across the Barranco de Herques once again, before eventually arriving back in El Escobonal.
Once back in El Escobonal, the directions I had obtained from the internet advised me to pay a visit to the Archaeological and Ethnographic museum in San Jose plaza. Unfortunately, when I got there, it was closed for 'reforms' and I had to chuckle quietly to myself as the completion dates for these 'improvements' was February 2011! It seems that the somewhat haphazard approach to promoting tourism on the island extends beyond walking. |
Walking in the Afur Valley
Despite having lived and walked in Tenerife for three and a half years, the island continues to surprise me. Yesterday, as forecasts promised temperatures rising to the mid-
thirties by the early part of this week, I set off for the Anaga Mountains from the south with the temperatures already nudging the high twenties. As I drove north, the whole island appeared to be quietly simmering in the heat, with the haze as evident over Santa Cruz and La Laguna as it had been in Los Cristianos in the south. Turning off of the TF5 autopista, I headed for the mountains and was surprised to see a white topping of cloud slowly tumbling over the summits and hanging over the nearby valleys as I headed towards the village of Las Mercedes. Climbing up into the Anaga Rural Park on the steeply winding road, the atmosphere changed abruptly as I passed through laurisilva forest, the wet roads evidence of the moisture laden cloud drifting through the branches and condensing on the leaves before dripping onto the tarmac below. Soon, I was forced to turn on my headlights and slow my speed considerably as I was having difficulty seeing more than a few yards ahead in the gloom. Arriving at the Casa Carlos restaurant, I parked and surveyed the scene, or I would have had there been one to survey. Normally, from the restaurant there is a fantastic view into the Afur valley, which was my destination for the day but now all that was 'visible' was a swirling white blanket hiding everything apart from the nearby flora. Setting off, I followed the steep path in eerie silence down towards Taborno as it passed through tree heather dripping with condensation from the moisture laden clouds. From Taborno, I followed a contouring path through giant ferns and brambles, the wet ferns soaking my shorts as I pushed through them before arriving at a house that abruptly materialised from the mist. A woman brushing the path outside the house wished me 'buenos dias' and I replied 'mucha bruma', which in the circumstances probably didn't need saying and as I continued downhill, pungent smelling woodsmoke from a nearby bonfire mingled with the fog, as more houses materialised out of the mist before de-materialising just as rapidly .
thirties by the early part of this week, I set off for the Anaga Mountains from the south with the temperatures already nudging the high twenties. As I drove north, the whole island appeared to be quietly simmering in the heat, with the haze as evident over Santa Cruz and La Laguna as it had been in Los Cristianos in the south. Turning off of the TF5 autopista, I headed for the mountains and was surprised to see a white topping of cloud slowly tumbling over the summits and hanging over the nearby valleys as I headed towards the village of Las Mercedes. Climbing up into the Anaga Rural Park on the steeply winding road, the atmosphere changed abruptly as I passed through laurisilva forest, the wet roads evidence of the moisture laden cloud drifting through the branches and condensing on the leaves before dripping onto the tarmac below. Soon, I was forced to turn on my headlights and slow my speed considerably as I was having difficulty seeing more than a few yards ahead in the gloom. Arriving at the Casa Carlos restaurant, I parked and surveyed the scene, or I would have had there been one to survey. Normally, from the restaurant there is a fantastic view into the Afur valley, which was my destination for the day but now all that was 'visible' was a swirling white blanket hiding everything apart from the nearby flora. Setting off, I followed the steep path in eerie silence down towards Taborno as it passed through tree heather dripping with condensation from the moisture laden clouds. From Taborno, I followed a contouring path through giant ferns and brambles, the wet ferns soaking my shorts as I pushed through them before arriving at a house that abruptly materialised from the mist. A woman brushing the path outside the house wished me 'buenos dias' and I replied 'mucha bruma', which in the circumstances probably didn't need saying and as I continued downhill, pungent smelling woodsmoke from a nearby bonfire mingled with the fog, as more houses materialised out of the mist before de-materialising just as rapidly .
Descending to the 1,400ft contour, I was suddenly treated to a superb view into the Barranco de Guardoz and as I continued, the village of Afur came into view below me. 
Descending further, I reached the outlying houses of the village clinging to a ridge and followed a paved path down into the bottom of the the valley. 
The fertile valley is known for it's stream and as I crossed the bridge to the village it was clear the flow of water, which in the winter months almost becomes a river, would soon be reduced to a few rockpools until the winter rains returned.
The main part of the tiny village consists of a few houses and a church haphazardly arranged along the valley road and 
often, when arriving in places as remote and isolated as this, I feel a little like an intruder, so I didn''t hang around long before locating the path out of the village. 
Climbing steeply, I arrived at a ridge and the amazing site of abandoned cave houses hanging precariously in a cliff-face, a wall built in front of these dwellings being all that stood between the original occupants and the valley floor several hundred feet below. Having passed this awe-inspiring sight, I re-entered the mist and climbed to the tiny hamlet of Roque Negro, where I located a relentlessly steep path up to the ridge road, which I followed back for a couple of miles to Casa Carlos. 
From here, I observed a cloud inversion in the Afur Valley and the amazing sight of the nearby summits protruding like mystical islands from a sea of white cotton wool before I set off on the drive back south in brilliant sunshine. Full size versions of photos below.Barranco de Las Cuevas Negras
Photos of yesterday's walk from the village of Erjos through the Barranco de Las Cuevas Negras in the Teno Mountains
Montaña Colorada, The Red Mountain
The weather yesterday here in Tenerife was superb with clear blue skies and I took the opportunity to climb to the summit of Montaña Colorada from the peaceful village of Cruz de Tea. The peak itself is not particularly imposing but from the summit marker there are stupendous views in all directions with the high peaks of Montaña Guajara and Sombrero de Chasna particularly dominant. The climb from the village is a strenuous 1.5 hour hike up paths that are often difficult, being covered in loose, gravelly red soil and rocks, making the walk initially a little like struggling up the side of a sand dune. Eventually, the gradient eases and the going becomes easier underfoot as you enter pine forest, giving you more chance to enjoy the scenery. Montaña Colorada means 'Red Mountain', and although the description 'mountain' may seem a little exaggerated, there is no denying it's colour! As you ascend, the summit cone peeks tantalisingly between the pines, frequently disappearing again making the climb seem longer than it really is. Once on the top, it is well worth stopping for a break to admire the 360 degree views, which in clear weather extend from the coast to the caldera rim. The return route is the almost total opposite of the outward path, as it descends through terraces of vines and fruit trees before following a deserted country road steeply back to the village. As you reach the village, you will find a very large, well preserved tile kiln, next to the appropriately named Tasca El Horno, where you can enjoy tapas and a drink as a reward for your earlier efforts. Photos below.
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| Montana Colorada |
Walking the Rio Conde
Last Thursday, my wife and I walked the Rio Conde, a disused water channel running through the mountains from Adeje to Arona, which is a town close to our village, Chayofa. The plan was to bus to Adeje and then climb up to the Rio Conde and follow it to a point where it passes closes to Chayofa before leaving it to follow a path back home. The channel is about a metre wide and very vertiginous in some places as it skirts around cliff edges, so the walk is not for those with a fear of heights. There are also sections where the slabs on the top have broken and a balancing act is required to negotiate these, which is a little unnerving at times. At one point, it crosses a ravine and although the channel is quite wide, you have nothing to protect you from a sheer drop on either side so concentration is vital. Because of this, I forgot to take a photo of the aquaduct as it crosses this point. The walk went well until towards the end of the channel when it started becoming very overgrown and it was necessary to climb down off of it at some points. It was during this section where I had an encounter with a prickly pear cactus and sustained an injury to my leg. I'm still not sure but I think I may have a cactus needle buried in my shin although the swelling is going down now. Hopefully, if there is a needle in it, it will work it's way out in time. This is the second injury I have sustained to my left leg in recent weeks but I suppose after years of walking with hardly any problems, I was due some bad luck. The walk took 5.5 hours overall, although it was made longer by some of the overgrown sections and the injury, which slowed me down a bit. Photos here
Climbing Roque del Conde
For visitors to the south of Tenerife, the prominent table-top summit of Roque del Conde is a familiar sight, even if they do not know it by name. Sitting just inland from t
he resorts of Los Cristianos, Playa de Las Americas and Costa Adeje, this 1,000 metre summit is visible for miles around. The mountain is the most prominent remaining peak of the Adeje Massif, the oldest part of the island and from the coast, the mountain looks almost unattainable but there is a good path from the village of Vento, near Arona, which can be followed to the saddle between Roque del Conde and Centinela. From here, the path crosses to the seaward side of the mountain giving stunning views to the coastal resorts and on a clear day, the summit of Teide. As you ascend the partially paved trail to the top you will see many old terraces and threshing circles, once used for threshing cereal crops. Arrival at the summit is a surprise to most as instead of the vertiginous ridge that most expect to find, a huge sloping plain is revealed and even this high up, there are abandoned terraces, long since fallen into disuse. It is worth spending time exploring the various paths on the summit as well as locating the plaque commemorating the Guanche mencey Ichasagua, who fought the invading Spanish from his stronghold on the mountain, the peak also being known by the alternative name of Roque de Ichasagua.
he resorts of Los Cristianos, Playa de Las Americas and Costa Adeje, this 1,000 metre summit is visible for miles around. The mountain is the most prominent remaining peak of the Adeje Massif, the oldest part of the island and from the coast, the mountain looks almost unattainable but there is a good path from the village of Vento, near Arona, which can be followed to the saddle between Roque del Conde and Centinela. From here, the path crosses to the seaward side of the mountain giving stunning views to the coastal resorts and on a clear day, the summit of Teide. As you ascend the partially paved trail to the top you will see many old terraces and threshing circles, once used for threshing cereal crops. Arrival at the summit is a surprise to most as instead of the vertiginous ridge that most expect to find, a huge sloping plain is revealed and even this high up, there are abandoned terraces, long since fallen into disuse. It is worth spending time exploring the various paths on the summit as well as locating the plaque commemorating the Guanche mencey Ichasagua, who fought the invading Spanish from his stronghold on the mountain, the peak also being known by the alternative name of Roque de Ichasagua.
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