For most of its length, the Júcar river in Valencia province runs through gorges, reservoirs and dry hills, and in the days before roads, the way to bring timber from the mountains to the coast was to float it. The woodsmen who did this were called gancheros, after the long hooked poles they used to push logs through rapids, and for centuries they took pine trunks down the Júcar and the Cabriel in spring floods, riding the logs and breaking jams. That trade ended in the twentieth century, but their memory is kept alive in villages like Millares and Bicorp. The shelter named for a man, Abrigo de Vicent, lies about five and a half kilometres from Bicorp, and carries painting in the Levantine tradition, protected by UNESCO as part of the rock art of the Mediterranean basin in Spain.
Bicorp's most famous site is the Cueva de la Araña, with its scene of a person climbing to a bee's nest, so honey and bees go with the district. Today beekeepers still work the thyme and rosemary slopes, and the honey, dark and aromatic, is for sale in village shops.
The landscape is steep. Limestone ridges, pine forest and deep ravines cut through the country, and the valley floors hold small farms of orange, almond and carob trees. The Cortes de Pallás reservoir and the dramatic Muela de Cortes plateau lie not far to the south. In the late afternoon, the cliffs glow orange and the air smells of resin.
For a rider, this is remote and rewarding territory. Roads are narrow and winding, with tight bends, steep drops and spectacular views, and they carry little traffic. The surface ranges from good to rough, with gravel and fallen rock after storms. Winter nights are cold, summer days are hot, and spring and autumn are best.
Fuel is far away. Bicorp, Millares and Quesa are tiny, with fewer than eight hundred people each, and the nearest sizeable town is Carlet, in the plain, about twenty-three kilometres away, with over fifteen thousand people. Fill up before you set out, carry water and a spare layer, and expect a walk to the shelter.