Behind the busy Costa Blanca, only half an hour from high-rise beach towns, there is a country of terraces and ravines that feels like another century. The Barranc del Sord, the deaf ravine, is one of many dry gullies cutting the limestone mountains of the Marina Baixa, and the shelters in its walls hold paintings made by prehistoric people, part of the Levantine art that stretches along Spain's Mediterranean side. The shelters are protected, and many have fencing or require local guidance.
The roads leading here are a good deal of the reason to come. From the coast you climb through almond and olive terraces on a narrow, winding route, with hairpins that give views across the mountain ridges toward the sea. Benimantell and Castell de Castells are small villages of fewer than five hundred people each, with white houses and a sense of calm. Look out for loquats and cherries on the terraces in season, and for the smell of pine and rosemary when the road shades.
On a bike the tarmac is generally decent, but the corners are tight and the verges steep, so keep to a pace that suits them. Summer is hot, with long dry spells, and the best riding is in spring and autumn, when the light is soft and the air smells of damp earth. Occasional winter storms can send water and mud down the ravines.
Do not expect fuel in these villages. Callosa d'en Sarrià or Benidorm, down toward the coast, are the sensible places to fill the tank and buy supplies before heading up. The nearby reservoir at Guadalest is turquoise in the sun, and the mountain of Aitana dominates the horizon. This is a good place to lose an afternoon, and an excellent reason to look beyond the beach. Come back down in the evening, when the ridges go purple and the lights of the coast begin to appear far below.