A mola, in Catalan, is a flat-topped mass of rock, and the one that gives this site its name is a block of Cretaceous limestone that has been sliced out of the plateau by the Gasulla ravine, leaving a cingle, a long band of cliff, along its flank. If you like geology, this is a place for you: the layers are clear, the cliffs are weathered into pockets and overhangs, and the shelters that hold the paintings are simply the places where the rock fell away in the right shape. Benassal is a little over five kilometres to the east.
A ride to the Gasulla is a ride across the high Maestrat, a land of pale rock and dark juniper that stands well above the coastal plain, where everything is sparser and colder than the Valencian stereotype. Roads run in easy sweeps over the plateau and down into the folds, the surface generally good and the traffic light. Gravel does collect where farm tracks join, and sheep or cattle can be on the road, so watch ahead. If you can, come in late spring when the broom is in flower and the wheat still green, or in October when the air is clear and hot is a memory.
The paintings of the Gasulla are among the most important in the Levantine tradition, and the ravine is a protected cultural park. The shelters often hold scenes of archers, hunters pursuing animals, and sometimes figures in what looks like a dance, but the rock surface has been damaged by flaking, and the paint is faint. Bring a sense of patience, and recognise that archaeologists who have been looking at these walls for ninety years still disagree about the details.
Benassal, with about thirteen hundred people, has bars and bakeries and a couple of places to stay, and it is known for the springs that rise around the village. Fuel is more distant, with Alcalà de Xivert thirty-three kilometres off the best choice. Culla, ten kilometres on, has a castle ruin and a fine view, and Villafranca del Cid, twelve kilometres away, is a bigger and busier place if you need supplies.