A shelter called Atajo, shortcut, tells you something about how people used these hills: as a place to cut across, between valleys, on foot and with animals. The Abrigo del Atajo II is two kilometres from Millares, in the same Júcar country where limestone has been carved into canyons and the villages cluster around springs. Dos Aguas is a little further, and Bicorp is just over the ridge, so you could string together several small places in one day.
It would be wrong to promise a dramatic ride. The roads here are plain and pleasant, with a few hairpins as they climb out of the valleys, and they tend to run through citrus, then scrub, then pine. Surface quality varies, so keep your speed measured, particularly after heavy rain, which sends gravel across the bends. Local drivers know the bends and take them fast, so keep to your side. In winter the early hours can be near freezing, while in high summer the gorge becomes a heat trap.
What makes the area interesting is the layering of use. Prehistoric hunters left their paintings under overhangs, and later farmers built terraces and stone huts, called barracas or casetas, that are still scattered over the hills. The villages have been shrinking for generations, so that today places like Millares are quiet, with an air of waiting. Carob trees, once an important crop for animal feed, still stand in the old terraces.
Turís, eighteen kilometres away, is the nearest town of any size and has fuel and supplies, and it lies on the edge of the Ribera, the fruit-growing plain. Bicorp has a few bars and could provide a break. Take food and water, because the walk to a shelter can be dry, and watch for snakes on warm days. Be gentle with the site, which has survived thousands of years by being left alone.