07/02/2025
Lost in the mist of El Hierro
Yesterday, I embarked on a ride that felt like traveling through two different worlds. Starting from La Restinga, I crossed the island’s highest point, leaving behind the barren lava fields of the Atlantic south west side and entering the mystical, cloud-shrouded north. The landscape transformed into a twisted scraggly oak rainforest, with moss and dripping ferns, as if stepping into a scene gloomy scene from a long forgotten black and white horror movie from the fifties.
Following the main HI-08, I stumbled upon a wooden signpost pointing to El Fuente de Mencafete, a place steeped in history and mystery. The ancient inhabitants of El Hierro, the Bimbaches who came from Africa some 2000 years ago, revered this site as sacred. Hidden high and deep in the misty cliffs, the trail led me to a dark, still pond at the base of a towering moss-covered vertical rock face that was unmistakable the end of the trail. It felt otherworldly, like a forgotten corner of a jungle, silent and eerie, yet undeniably beautiful.
The ride itself was a challenge. My nearly bald Mitas E07 Dakar rear tire and road front tire that I bought in Sweden last summer were put to the test on the muddy, slippery trails. Slipping and sliding, I navigated steep, mossy paths with deep gullies where the rain had washed away the topsoil. The place seemed untouched by time. For hours, I saw no one,just the drifting clouds and the cold mist that started to drip of my eyelashes, the ancient trees, and the whispers of history.
