Three or four shelters bear the name Centelles, and on a map they all collapse into one dot, which says something about how these places are catalogued: by the ravine, the farm and the order in which a surveyor stumbled across them. The Centelles of this ride lies in the upland country between Catí and Albocàsser, where the Maestrat plateau is broad, quiet and dry, and where the main event of the day is the sheep crossing the road.
There is almost nothing to ride against. The roads are smooth, the traffic almost nonexistent, and the corners come in steady, easy sets as the tarmac follows the contours. In clear weather you can see the Penyagolosa massif on the horizon, and on the plateau itself you might see a hare, a pair of red-legged partridges or a harrier over the barley. Winters are cold and wet, summers are hot and dry, and spring and autumn are the seasons to choose.
Catí, six kilometres away, is the place for goat cheese and for a beer in the square, and Albocàsser, eight kilometres away, has a quiet, handsome main street. Fuel is a different matter, since neither village can be relied upon, and Alcalà de Xivert, twenty-three kilometres off, is the sure bet. Benassal, thirteen kilometres, is an alternative for lunch, and its cool springs are a welcome sight on a hot day.
The shelter's paintings are of the Levantine type, red figures under a natural overhang, and they are often small and faded. The best way to understand what you are looking at is to visit the museum in Tírig, which is dedicated to the art of the Valltorta and Gasulla ravines, and which makes sense of the whole tradition in an hour. Go in with realistic expectations, and the faint marks become more interesting, not less.