Walking amongst Volcanos

Last November was the one hundred year anniversary of the last eruption in Tenerife at Montana Chinyero. To commemorate the event, a plaque was fixed to one of the volcanic boulders lining the newly waymarked route around the volcano. The circular route around the dark volcanic cone is a fascinating insight into the devastation caused to the surrounding landscape during the eruptions that lasted from the 18th to the 27th November 1909. At one point in the route, the path actually crosses the top of the lava flow to give you an idea of the scale of the sea of molten rock that flowed through the countryside during the eruptions. As this 5.7 kilometre route is quite close to another eruption site, I though it would be a good idea devise a route linking the two sites together in one continuous walk. The Montana Negra eruption of 1706, destroyed the harbour and a large part of the port of Garachico and the area around the volcano is an amazing black sand desert dotted with pine trees with the imposing sight of Teide and Pico Viejo providing an impressive backdrop. On clear days, the contrast between the black ash and sand, the green of the pines and the deep blue of the sky is quite stunning.

Last Thursday, I led a group of walkers from Los Llanos to Montana Chinyero on a chilly but sunny morning. The walk began with a pleasant stroll through pine trees before arriving at the start of the Chinyero circular path. A short distance along this, we climbed up unto the lava flow (pictured), which is an amazing sight and although it is a route I have walked a number of times, it never fails to fill me with awe. As we picked our way carefully over the frozen lava, the walkers cameras working overtime, the cinder cone of Montana Chinyero came into view. This breathtaking view was complemented by the bulk of Teide towering in the background. Having left the lava field behind, the walk then climbed around the far side of the volcanic cone where we had further superb views looking down onto the lava. During a short break for lunch, the earlier sunny skies suddenly clouded over and it was soon raining steadily. We walked to Montana Negra in the rain but by the time we arrived at the 1706 eruption site, the cone of Montana Negra was all but invisible in the cold, damp mist. With the rain now falling quite heavily and the views having disappeared for the day, we walked briskly back through the woods to Los Llanos and the dry and warmth of the car.

Ascent of Teide

On my first ever trip to Tenerife in 1995, I visited the National Park and was instantly awestruck by the amazing landscape. I decided there and then that I would come back the following year and climb Teide, Spains highest peak at over 12,000ft. After reading up during the intervening year about the climb, I successfully made it to the top and back down again the following August.

Since moving to the island last year, I have walked in many areas but each time I have seen the peak of the volcano looming over me in the distance, it seemed to be mocking me and challenging me to climb it again. Okay, I realise this was all in my mind but the longer it went on the more I began to question if I should have another go. On my first climb, the cable-car wasn't running so I saw only a handful of people all day. Since that climb, it has become a more popular challenge and a permit system introduced. I was unhappy about doing the climb in a 'procession' so I devised a plan to hopefully avoid the crowds. I decided to wait until near the middle of the year when there would be enough daylight hours for a midday start giving time to climb up and back down again. This way, I would hopefully avoid walkers starting off early in the day and I should also reach the top when the last cable-car would be taking the tourists back down, meaning that I should have the mountain to myself. This of course meant that I would be unable to get a permit for the summit but I had been right to the top before so I wasn't too worried about this, plus with no-one around, it might be possible to get to the top without one.

I set off at 1pm as planned, and climbed the wide tracks to Montana Blanca without problems. I knew that this was the easy bit however, and once I left this and started the climb up the back of Teide itself, the air would become thinner and I would find the going much harder. There were a number of walkers on this stretch but they all turned off to the summit of Montana Blanca at around 9,000ft and then I was alone. I started the steeper mountain path confidently but I could already feel the thin air starting to have an effect as I began feeling heavier and my breathing became slightly more laboured. In front of me, an almost vertical wall of rock loomed over me so I just admired the scenery and plodded onwards. I passed a lone Czech walker descending and we had a 'conversation' where I think we only understood about three words the other was saying but he managed to wish me luck as we said goodbye. As I approached the 10,000ft mark, my heart began to pound in my chest and I was having to stop more regularly. Soon, I reached the Altavista Refuge at around 10,700ft and I was now struggling quite badly. Any movement was accompanied by a pounding in my chest and I was now deliberating if I should turn back. I sat for a while to ponder what to do but I decided that I had no headache and apart from the weakness and pounding in my chest I felt okay. I decided to carry on by walking 40-50 yards and then sitting to recover. This I did and after an age, reached the La Rambleta walkway from the cable-car to the Forteleza viewpoint. I was by now feeling very weak but continued plodding to the cable-car station passing another very shattered looking walker descending. He was the only person I saw on the summit. Reaching the cable-car, I came to the start of the final summit path, which was unguarded although part of me by now wished that there was a huge guard with a machine-gun to stop me going up. I knew I had to attempt to get to the top and I reluctantly plodded up the steep final climb. By now, I was taking half-a-dozen steps and then stopping. As I neared the top, puffs of sulphurous smoke blew unpleasant odours across the path and unlike the mountain, I had by now virtually run out of steam. I decided to leave my rucksack by the side of the path for the very last section to try and make the task a little easier and as I struggled alongside the small crater at the top, the summit rocks came into view. The relief was immense and I struggled to take a summit photo without my tripod, which was still in my rucksack. After a very short break for a few photos and to just take-in the scene, I made my way back to collect my rucksack and begin my descent before it became dark. As I began descending, I started to recover and was soon moving very quickly. I reached the Altavista Refuge for the second time and passed a group of walkers sitting outside who were presumably staying the night for an early start to the summit to catch the sunrise. Passing a number of other walkers ascending to the refuge, I continued my descent at a jog and before too long I was off of the mountain path and striding along the wide tracks below Montana Blanca. The sun was now setting and the deep reds and browns along with the shadows gave the scenery a totally different look and feel from earlier in the day.

Two and a half hours after leaving the summit, I was back at the car, exactly half the time it took me to climb it. I was tired but euphoric that I had made it, despite being on the verge of giving up a number of times. Climbing Teide is a daunting challenge and one that I have now completed twice. I'm glad that I managed to do it a second time but after the difficulties experienced on this trip, there probably won't be a third. But you never know!

Tenerife's Split Personality

I was recently reminded on two walks in the Anaga Mountains in the north of the island of the extremely diverse nature of the islands scenery and climate. The mountains form a long, irregular ridge of steep, heavily wooded & sharply pinnacled mountains rising to a little over 3,000ft. The woods comprise of some of the only surviving laurel forests in Europe and provide a contrast to the usual Canary pine trees found in the rest of the island. The rich soil is a another contrast with the south of the island and local people working in the fields growing potatoes and other crops is a common sight. On these walks, I led two groups of walkers along the same route within the space of a week and the two trips could not have been more different. The objective of both walks was the troglodyte village of Chinamada, which is a tiny hamlet of houses built directly into the rocky hillsides. These cave houses were common at one time in the Canaries as they remain cool in the summer and warm in the winter, so suit the more variable temperatures of the mountainous regions. The route took us through the laurel forests and along paths giving us spectacular views into the nearby valleys and down to the northern coast at Punta del Hidalgo. On the first of these trips, we walked in beautiful blue skies and warm sunshine with views across the Barranco de Tomadero to the tiny village of El Batan, clinging to the steep-sided valley. In the background, just visible through the haze, the towering peak of Teide watched over us as we admired the bellflowers and lillies adorning the paths and terraces along the way. In Chinamada, the quaint old cave houses (photo) set into the rocky hillsides looked a little like a scene fron the hobbit village in Lord of the Rings. Leaving the village, we followed a path out to the spectacular viewpoint of Mirador de Aguaide with it's dizzying views down to the sea almost 2,000ft below and watched walkers toiling up the steep path from the coast on their way to the village. The second trip, just one week later, showed the darker side of the islands personality as we set off from the Cruz del Carmen carpark in heavy rain, blustery wind and fog. Descending into the laurel forest, we encountered paths running with water and strewn with fallen trees and rocks, which we carefully picked our way around. Descending into a steep ravine, we crossed a fast flowing stream below a waterfall. Normally, this ravine is dry so it was a surprise, albeit a pleasant one, to hear the sound of water rushing down through the woods to the sea. Crossing the stream, we descended to Chinamada and were grateful as the weather slowly improved and the skies cleared. One of the things that made these walks special for me, even though I have walked the route a number of times, was the reaction to the Anaga scenery from both groups of walkers, which is completely different from any they had witnessed on previous visits to the island. They all found it difficult to believe that they were only an hour or so away from the south coast resorts. Another big difference noted by all was the abundant flora along the walk. Besides the obvious difference in the laurel trees, they were surprised by the varied amount of plant species never seen in the south.

On both walks, we sat in the square by the little church in Chinamada for a break and a rest before passing through the attractive mountain village of Las Carboneras on the long climb back to the car-park at Cruz del Carmen. At the end of both walks, it was very satisfying for me to listen to the appreciative comments as we drove back from the lush greenery to the more desert-like scenery of the south. Tenerife had proved, to these walkers at least, that it is definitely an island with a split personality.

Discovering Tenerife's Secret Paths

One of my favourite pastimes when out walking is discovering new routes. Recently, I studied the 1:25,000 IGN map for the Adeje area to try and create a circular route above the Barranco del Infierno. This famous landmark in the south of the island is walked by thousands of tourists every year who follow the pathway to the waterfall at the head of the barranco and return by the same route. Lately, the authorities have restricted access to the walk, ostensibly to try and control erosion damage caused by the large numbers walking the route. While I can see some of the reason for the restrictions, it always makes me feel uneasy when routes such as this become 'pay as you walk' and I am glad that I walked the route before it became a paying attraction and too pedestrianised for my liking. Having said this, you can still walk the route for free on a Sunday. However, an excellent alternative to the crowded barranco are the many paths above, where you can roam at will to the numerous fantastic viewpoints looking down into it.
One of the problems with devising your own routes in Tenerife is that the maps, unlike UK Ordnance Survey maps, do not accurately record paths, so what appears on the map does not necessarily appear on the ground, and vice-versa. Checking mine, I noticed that there appeared to be paths allowing a circular route high above the barranco taking in all of the viewpoints along the way. After a number of false starts, I found the path on the map leading high up into the mountains before crossing the Barranco de la Fuente and circling round and back down towards the Barrranco del Infierno. As I skirted around the top, I succesfully found my way to the three stunning viewpoints, one on each side and one looking down the length of this impressive ravine, before returning to my start point. Although the latter section of the route followed a popular trail, I did not pass one other walker on the whole walk. I always get a special 'buzz' when I plan a route that starts as an idea on the map and then tranfers successfully to the ground. It is so much more satisfying than just following a route from a guidebook. The other bonus is that, because these paths do not appear in any guidebooks, you often have the place to yourself giving the walk a greater feeling of adventure.

Birthday Cake-walk

Last Thursday was my birthday. To celebrate this momentous event, I went to the Las Canadas National Park with my wife for an easy stroll around the park in the shadow of the huge bulk of the volcano, Teide. Strolling from the Parador (state run hotel), we left the tourists behind and headed for the low, sandy coloured mound of Montana Majua, facing the cable-car station at the foot of the volcano. Thursday in Tenerife is a hunting day and as we wound our way through the harsh volcanic landscape, we spotted a number of hunters on top of a rocky ridge ahead. As we neared the ridge, we passed a pack of hunting dogs foraging in the shrubs and cacti looking for rabbits as the hunters looked on from above. Leaving the hunters to their search, we approached Montana Majua and climbed to the summit. From here we had a terrific 360 degree view of the huge volcanic crater we were walking through. The mountains on the southern wall of the crater created an impressive sight but the star of the show was Teide, filling the entire view to the north. We watched the cable-car taking another car-load of tourists to within a couple of hundred metres of the summit as we descended to a wide, dusty track below. We followed this back to the parador, passing the old sanitorium buildings nestled silently among the rocks as we headed for the ever-expanding view of Montana Guajara, Tenerife's fourth highest peak at around 9,000ft. Picking up the Siete Canadas trail at the base of the crater wall, we passed beneath this imposing mountain, admiring the rock formation of Piedras Amarillas as we completed the easy circuit back the the parador. The easy stroll through the stunning scenery of one of Spains most visited and unusual National Parks was a lovely way to spend three hours of my birthday. We finished the day off with a visit to one of our favourite restaurants in Los Cristianos.

Rain Forests and Ravines

Today I am recovering from yesterday's strenuous hike, which I did with Alan, a friend of mine. The walk was in the north-west of the island in the Teno mountains and involved conditions I have rarely experienced on the island, walking in pouring rain! The walk began on a cool ,overcast day from the tiny village of Erjos with a steep descent through the beautiful Barranco de Cuevas Negras (Black Cave Ravine). As we descended into this steep ravine, there were constant reminders that we were on the opposite side of the island, confirmed by the presence everywhere of lush, green vegetation. Laurel trees and ferns had replaced the the prickly pear and candelabra spurge so common in the south. As we left the last of the gardens of Erjos behind we descended rapidly with the green walls of the barranco towering over us, occasionally passing a solitary old house half-buried in the undergrowth. After passing an abandoned village, the barranco took on an even more dramatic appearance as the green gave way to formidible cliff and mountain scenery and the village of Los Silos put in an appearance far below towards the sea. As we reached the floor of the barranco, a few outlying buildings of Los Silos came into view as well as numerous banana plantations. Eventually, we reached a lane that led through the village and across the main road and into the main square. This proved to be a delight with an attractive kiosk in the centre and many locals sitting and chatting or drinking coffee at the kiosk cafe. On one of the benches an old man sat selling lottery tickets and playing a whistle. Unfortunately, he only seemed to know about five notes, which he repeated constantly. Besides the kiosk, there were a number of attractive buildings including a pretty church with a striking spire.

After a break in the square, we set-off back up the lane to start the return trek. As the first half of the walk had been all downhill, we were now faced with an uphill return journey that included 3,000ft of ascent. The path climbed steeply after leaving the village, above the Barranco de los Cochinos giving spectacular views into the barranco and back down to Los Silos. High above, we could see cloud on the summits and soon we were walking in light rain. As we climbed higher and closer to the cloud covered summits so the rain got steadily heavier. The surrounding scenery however was ample compensation for this minor inconvenience as the barranco scenery took on epic proportions, with green, tree clad peaks soaring into the sodden clouds. I remarked to Alan that it reminded me of a scene from a documentary on the Borneo rain forest! As we continued, the rain became very heavy and we finally admitted defeat and stopped to put on our anoraks. This was only the second or third time I had been forced to do this since moving to Tenerife in January, not bad when considering that I walk here regularly! Eventually, after a long, tiring climb through the forest, we reached a level forestry track and strolled back into Erjos and the car, six hours after setting off. We were tired and wet but happy to have spent the day in one of Tenerife's most spectacular corners.

The Guimar Valley & The Candelaria Trail

I have long had a fascination with the Guimar Valley from a walkers viewpoint for a couple of reasons. One is that it doesn't feature very much in walking guidebooks, and two, because I always think it's one of the most spectacular sights on the island when viewed from the TF1. One walk that does feature in the guidebooks is the Candelaria Trail, an old pilgrims route from La Orotava to Candelaria, over the top of the island. Nowadays, because of building development, it is usually started from Aguamansa and finished in Arafo, which is where I decided to start the walk from. The plan was to climb to the cumbre road between La Esperanza and El Portillo at La Crucita and then turn round and walk back to Arafo. This involved about six hours of walking and around 5,000ft of ascent and descent. A tough sounding walk, which it was, but what a walk!Climbing out of Arafo was hard enough on the seemingly vertical tarmac lanes but after leaving the roads, the climbing just went on and on and on, seemingly never ending and very steep. After leaving the tarmac, the path snaked uphill through pine forest, past an old water channel. Eventually, the route broke free of the pines and the views were simply stupendous, along the coast to Guimar, Candelaria and Santa Cruz below but up ahead, the most amazing sight of a mountain boiling away like an old kettle, as cloud swirled around the summit in an otherwise blue sky. Upon reaching an old stone shelter, I came across a rather incongruous bath-tub sitting by a huge mound of spiky chestnut casings as the huge black sand mound of Las Arenas came into view ahead. I have to say that by this time I was really feeling the climb. The relentless steepness was taking it's toll and I was still around and hour and a half to the cumbre road. I was now totally enclosed by mountains and plodding at a very slow pace. My resolve nearly gave out when the path became much steeper and covered in loose red picon. Eventually, after much puffing and blowing, I reached the cumbre road and had a break for lunch with fantastic views of Teide.Setting off back downhill, I slithered back down the slippery path and as I neared Las Arenas mountain for the second time, I had the strange experience of being under clear blue, sunny skies with rain blowing into my back. Looking back, I could see that the cumbre was now invisible, covered in a grey blanket of cloud. I assumed that it must be raining high up and the strong winds on the top were blowing it downhill, into the valley. As I descended further, I realised that the rain was following me down the valley but I seemed to be staying just ahead of it in the sunshine. As I passed the the black cone of Las Arenas, I suddenly became aware of a rainbow in a shallow valley about 150 metres to my left. I could actually see where it touched the ground at both ends! As I rounded a bend in the track, one end of the rainbow was actually touching the track a few yards in front of me!I continued past the chestnut trees I had seen earlier to the stone shelter and the source of the empty shells became apparent as an old man sat in front of the shelter, removing the casings from them and adding to the enormous mound in front of him. I descended the last section back into Arafo fairly rapidly, observing another rainbow off in the distance as I went. I have to say that I have done some spectacular walking both here and in other locations but this walk was one of the most stunning but exhausting I have ever done. 

The Deserted Village of Las Fuentes

I have recently been exploring the area around Montana Tejina. This is a rounded hill on the side of the road heading west from Adeje towards Playa san Juan. Despite looking like a green hill from the road, at over 1,000mtrs high, it qualifies as a mountain. A friend had alerted me to the fact that hidden directly behind Mt. Tejina are the remains of the old village of Las Fuentes. Unable to resist the temptation to investigate, I set off from the village of Vera De Erques and climbed steeply into the hills on a route running roughly parallel with the Barranco de Erques. My intention was to climb to a height above that of Mt.Tejina and then circle around and down into the village. In the event, I climbed much higher than intended, above the cloudline in fact, before locating a route that led me back down the hills and through the cloud. As I emerged from the mist, I was faced by a fantastic view of Mt.Tejina and Las Fuentes below. Descending into the village, it appeared that most of the houses were long deserted, although one or two appeared to be in good condition. One even had a television aerial! Mostly though, the buildings were in a poor condition and a melancholy atmosphere prevailed. Some of the terracing appeared to be still in cultivation and I guessed that the cottages in good condition were perhaps used by whoever farmed them, possibly as holiday homes or weekend getaways. I found an old stone camino and followed it back to Vera de Erques .

A week later I returned along the camino from Vera de Erques to Las Fuentes. Passing an old wine press, I followed a signpost to the village of Acojeja across the impressively deep Barranco de Guaria, from where Mt. Tejina took on the more rocky aspect of a mountain. The path descended steeply into the village, passing another path into the village of El Jaral. Returning from Acojeja, I took a short walk into the Barranco del Pozo below El Jaral to check the route before returning steeply to Las Fuentes. One theory is that the village was built behind Mt. Tejina to conceal it from passing pirates but a more likely explanation for the location is probably to be found in the name, which literally means 'springs'. I returned along the old camino to Vera de Erques, planning to add this very interesting route to my website.