Zalău is the county seat of Sălaj, a city of around sixty thousand people sitting in a shallow valley where the Meseș hills fold down toward the Transylvanian plain. The stop sits just north of the Măgurii stream, on the edge of the town, which means you arrive through suburbs and allotments rather than through any grand gateway. That suits the county. Sălaj is not a place of famous passes; it is a place of rolling ridges, orchards, hay meadows and small roads that wander from one village to the next without much of a plan.
The riding here is gentle and honest. Expect narrow asphalt with patches, the occasional cart or flock of geese, and gradients that never ask much of the bike. The pleasure is in the pace: beech woods closing over the road, a church tower every few kilometres, and long views across the hills when you gain a ridge. Spring brings plum blossom, early autumn brings woodsmoke and the smell of fermenting fruit, because this is plum-brandy country and nearly every yard has a tree or two.
The history is deeper than the town suggests. Zalău was Zilah to the Hungarians, who still make up a large share of the county, and to the north the Meseș Gate was the Roman frontier of Dacia. The fort and town of Porolissum, at Moigrad, guarded that pass, and its excavated walls and amphitheatre are worth a detour if you have a morning. The Roman soldiers who watched this ridge had the same view of the weather rolling in that you will.
Fuel and food are no problem, since Zalău is a proper city with several stations and plenty of places for a bowl of ciorbă or a grilled something with polenta. Fill the tank here before heading into the smaller villages around Hurez and the hills to the north, where a station may be a long way off. Neighbouring Aghireș and Treznea are small, so plan on the city for anything beyond a coffee. Go in the morning, when the valley fog is lifting and the traffic is still asleep.