Bike
MTB
Mountain biking in Morocco: Backcountry trails in kitesurfing country
The north African port city of Essaouira is renowned for its 18th-century fort, ties to Jimi Hendrix and amazing surf. But should MTB be added to that list?
Is it alright to ride a mountain bike past a camel? Or do camels startle easily? Maybe they’re territorial and don’t like mountain bikers using their trails. Kind of like those angry middle-aged dog walkers you get in middle England. Maybe they even spit on you if you get too close to them? The camels, that is. Not the dog walkers. That would be disgusting.
This is the train of thought I’ve lost myself in a couple of hours deep into a ride through the backcountry of Essaouira, a coastal town in Morocco three-hours drive from Marrakech.
Expect to see more camels than people on the trails
© Stuart Kenny
The flock of camels approaching seem happy enough. Our own little herd of mountain bikers – three Essaouira locals; Martin, Michelle, Adil and myself, the token Scottish tourist – continue slowly down the trail. The camels (all locals) continue on their path like we’re not even there, trotting along, complete with that clumsy smile all camels seem to wear. The one that makes them look like they somehow know something we don’t. And who knows? Maybe they do. They’re certainly a lot better at handling the heat than I am.
It’s a warm morning, but it could be warmer. It’s not the kind of hot you think of when you see ‘30 degrees’ and a circular ball of sunshine on a forecasting app. See, Essaourira is a lot cooler than the likes of Marrakech and Casablanca, courtesy of the coastal wind. That’s the same coastal wind that has established the town as a kitesurfing mecca – it’s main claim to fame, after the fact that a certain Jimi Hendrix spent some time in the city in 1969.
Essaouira and the surrounding area is renowned for water sports
© Stuart Kenny
The hot today is a sneaky kind of hot. A clouded sky, with warm, clammy air. The kind of heat that fools you on the downhills, but then has you reaching for the water on every climb.
We’d started the day about a 25km drive from the 18th-century fort town of Essaouira, where Game of Thrones filmed ‘Slaver’s Bay’. There, stalls and salesmen line typically tight passageways (though it’s significantly less hectic than in Marrakech), and smells of grilled street food accompany the music of traditional buskers on the wind. On the wet side of the city walls, fierce waves crash against rocks that would snap a surfboard in a second.
The stalls and salesmen lining the streets
© Stuart Kenny
We’re further down the coastline, in a sleepy town called Sidi Kaouki. There are fewer signs of tourism here, and the beach is empty, though rumour has it the waves are some of the best in Morocco – if you’re good enough with a surfboard or a kite to make use of them.
But it’s bikes, not boards for us. At least for today. After a bit of bike maintenance watched closely by a crowd of stray dogs, it’s off up off the road, then down into the beige backcountry via a dried up river bed. When we climb out of the river, I find our views have changed from ocean to rolling African planes. Mountains rise up in the shadowy distance. “There’s a mosque on top of that,” Michelle tells me, pointing at one of the far off ridgelines.
The group had some four-legged help when setting up the bikes
© Stuart Kenny
Before us, the golden trail through the dirt and sand is punctuated only by silver trees and bushes. The spiky bare branches almost look like they’re lined with barbed wire. “It’s not rained in about seven months,” says Martin. “But it will soon, then all of these trees will be green again.”
We follow a flow trail along one side of the river bank, the main struggle of the day for me identifying itself relatively promptly. While my full sus Trek rolls nicely over whatever stones present themselves, the dirty, sandy complexion of the terrain means each pedal stroke is worth about half as much as it would be on dirt or gravel. It could be an exhausting day.
The sandy surface made the hills twice as hard
© Stuart Kenny
“Where exactly are we?” I ask Martin as we ride. “What’s the trail called?”
“It doesn’t exactly have a name,” he replies. Figures. Another couple of camels go by.
The views make up for hard hill climbs
© Stuart Kenny
I pant, puff, and drag myself up a deceptive sandy uphill before taking another breather. I’m starting to wonder if I’ll be physically able to make my arrangements for later in the day. I’m actually in Essaouira for Moga Festival – a music festival where cutting edge house and techno meets traditional Moroccan music. In the days that follow, I’d see stunning sets from an upcoming Casablanca rapper (ISSAM), big names (Santori, Blond:ish) and watch an unlikely partnership (French DJs Parrallells and traditional musician Maalem Omar Hayat, known locally as the “Jimi Hendrix of gumbri”) put on the show of the festival. But in this moment, at the top of a desert hill on a mountain bike, sweating profusely, while three incredibly patient locals waited to see if I was going to pass out or not, the idea of side-stepping till 5am in the morning didn’t seem like the most appetising idea in the world.
In my defence, I soon learn Martin is currently in training for an Iron Man event, Adil is a full-time yoga teacher (I end up in one of his classes the next day at Moga), and Michelle is on an e-Bike. All that and, full disclosure, it seems I’m considerably less fit than they are.
Martin points out the next step of the trail
© Stuart Kenny
They’re also a lot more used to the terrain, though. Martin moved to Essaouira 10 years ago. He initially started a backcountry cycling business before becoming manager of the Essaouira branch of Ocean Vagabond/ION club, which focus primarily on kitesurfing, surfing and SUP. Tourism to Essaouira from within Morocco has increased in recent years with the rise of a Moroccan middle class, which has meant increased business, but the relaxed coastal city of Essaouira (there aren’t even any traffic lights) will always be a surf town. He tells me that mountain biking makes up less than 10 percent of his business.
Many of the mountain bikers he guides, Martin says, are kitesurfers on low-wind days, or families or groups on e-bikes. I’m heartened to learn that while I may have been struggling on the sandy trails, I’ve at least been struggling on a trail deemed too tough for most guests.
We ride over a small desert stream, pungent like a botanical garden
© Stuart Kenny
Thankfully, we soon hit some downhill, and then find ourselves back at a tarmac road. Martin declares: “This is where the fun begins”. He’s not wrong. We nip back off the road and enter some singletrack. The landscape begins to transform. The ground here is almost red. Then greenery starts to spring up. First a couple of trees. Then as we approach a riverbed, an explosion of lush plantation. We drop down a technical little section and ride through dense green bush, and even over a small desert stream, pungent like a botanical garden.
Climbing out of the river bed we ride along the dirt trail, and get to the ruins of a castle back in that desert beige. Before we know it, we’re back at the ocean, listening to waves crash against the shore.
The crashing sea marks the end of the trail
© Stuart Kenny
One painful final technical climb (read: get off and push) back up to the road brings the ride to a close. The enduring memory was the sheer uniqueness of the experience, watching camels move from arm’s reach to silhouettes on the horizon, and learning a new technique to match the sandy terrain.
The fortress town of Essaourira may always be a surf town first and foremost, but as tourism increases from both near and far, the mountain biking trails on offer and community that ride them certainly deserve to continue to grow.
