Go on an adventure with Thewayfly as she travels off-the-beaten path through the Sierra Nevada foothills in Southern Spain. Make friends with a German exchange student and join him on a geocache treasure hunt. Rely on your own spatial instincts and your hiking buddy to chart a new path back to Granada.

A cool breeze pushes through the local bus’s open window as we pass festively dressed Granadinos promenading through the Sycamore-lined shade of the River Genil. Yet, my eyes are fixed on the snowcapped mountains in the distance.

Today, I left my heavy traveling backpack at the hostel and feel light and free with just my little daybag. I arrived in Granada a few days ago and was now so enchanted with the fabled city of the Moor’s final empire in Southern Spain, that I decided to cancel my one-way (non-refundable) flight to Barcelona to spend more time learning its secrets.

I was heading into the foothills of the Sierra Nevadas, to a place called Los Cohorros.  I overheard other hostelers talk about the popular rock-climbing spot with cascading waterfalls and suspended bridges. For the past few days, I had stared out at the snow-covered peaks forming the fairytale backdrop to the Alhambra palace and felt compelled to take a closer look.

Over breakfast of fresh-squeezed orange juice and jamon tostadas in the hostel’s bird-song and bougainvillea dripping courtyard, I couldn’t convince my friends—you make friends so easily when you’re traveling solo!—to join me on the adventurous hike. Not deterred from my plan—I was traveling solo after all—I asked for directions from the front-desk staff, grabbed my hiking boots and daybag, and headed off to explore.

Chance Encounter – Meeting a Hiking Buddy

The hiking area was just outside the city, about a 20-minute bus ride from el Centro, the center of town. Mostly everyone on the bus looked local, the Franco generation of Spaniards sitting squat and sun-weathered, clutching the handles of their rolling market carts. Amongst the young people, I spotted a handsome Russel Crowish muscular guy with blonde hair sporting a hiker’s day pack. We both got off the bus at a parking lot in the town of Monachil.

This was as far as my directions had taken me. I looked around, unsure of where the trailhead was (I guess I was thinking it would be more obvious.)  I was without a paper map or hand-held GPS since this was way before it was common to travel internationally with a smartphone. Rather than stalk the guy, I decided to ask if he knew the directions.

Alex was an Erasmus exchange student from Germany, studying for the year at the Universidad de Granada. He was headed out for a day of geocaching in the mountains (fun!) His friends were supposed to join but they all bailed at the last minute, sleeping off their hangovers.

I asked if I could join him in finding the trailhead, and as we walked together, I learned the alarming news that there was not a return bus to Granada on Sundays. What!? How would we get back?? And how did the hostel staff fail to mention this minor detail?! I decided I was sticking with Alex (and his handheld GPS) for the rest of the journey.

So now it’s the two of us venturing off in search of the trailhead, in search of hidden treasure, and in search of what lies in store behind the mountain’s granite folds.

Finding Hidden Treasure

We found the path paralleling a gurgling river and followed it into a narrow granite walled canyon. We scooched across narrow ledges of concrete, our heels and hands hugging the rockface to our backs while peering down at the cascading river. The air was cool and refreshing and we could almost taste the mineral water on our tongues.

Above the river now, we skipped and bounced across suspended wooden and cable bridges and stood on boulder overlooks opening out to incredible views of vertical granite spires. One by one they emerged in the landscape painting; tan-legged rock climbers in miniature setting ropes and lines and scaling up the vertical walls.

Los Cohorros is a popular outdoor destination for Granada’s young outdoor enthusiasts, and it was a beautiful summer day to be outside, with yellow wildflowers and orange poppies in full bloom. Rather than mill about with the groups of other hikers and climbers though, we kept moving along the single-track hiking path in search of our first treasure.

Geocaching, if you’re unfamiliar, is a hobby, kind of like modern-day treasure hunting, but where the treasure has no real value other than the sheer joy of finding it. It relies on anonymous participation to be the stasher or finder. To engage in the hobby, all you need is a handheld GPS device to geographically locate the treasure’s waypoints, usually hidden in a wilderness area or park.

Yay! We found it! Logging our names in the geocache treasure finders book.

Heading Deeper into the Mountains

We’d been hiking for quite a while, about three hours fueled by our excitement and the beauty of the terrain. But the trail obviously was a one-way hike and we had a decision to make: Either turn around and retrace our steps and try to catch a ride in Monachil, or venture off the beaten path and find our own route back to Granada. As my dad drilled into my head as a little girl, “the Brown’s always take the most adventurous path!” we chose option B. We decided to chart our own path and followed an unmarked trail in that direction.

When I left the hostel that morning, I hadn’t planned for an all-day hike. All I brought with me was a bottle of water and some snacks I picked at the market—a handful of dried figs, some almonds and a nectarine. Luckily, water flows in abundance from the Sierra’s snowmelt and we could refill our bottles with the mountain’s cold, sweet goodness.

It was getting hot now too, and above the lush canyonland of Los Cohorros, we were in the dryer desert foothills exposed to the sun’s full rays. So when we found a deep pool in the stream to take our boots off and submerge our parched skin, it felt like the greatest treasure of all. Here, we refreshed, shared what food we had between us and calmed our nerves.

Have a little faith

I was putting a lot of trust in this person and faith in my own abilities. I was born with an innate sense of direction, my superpower that had come in handy on the seven week solo backpacking trip. When I’d arrived at a new city, I’d grab a new map, study it, and put it away. I could usually navigate by feel after memorizing the streets and landmarks. The only time this failed me was in Granada when the map was oriented sideways on the map and I headed east rather than north from the train station. A few hour Ooops!

With our mind and bodies refreshed after the cool dip we were ready to put the boots back on and find our way home. Despite the heat, I was thankful for the foothill’s open landscape— a mixture of Savannah like grasslands, with prickly-pear cactus and scrubby oaks. Once we started bushwhacking off trail and up and out of the river valley, we could see the white glimmering shapes of Granada on the horizon. There it was, my beacon, my waypoint. I felt confident now that we’d make it by nightfall.

At the Puente de las Chorreras  trailhead in Los Cohorros Natural Park outside of Granada, Spain.

Charting our own route home

We were now outside the park boundaries and into private property. We tromped through dotted rows of olive orchards whose branches grew heavy with ripening fruit (Beware eating a raw olive, you’ll be sorry!) And quickly past the dark lone bull looking up from his grazing with a stern eye of warning. We leapt over flowing acequias – the advanced system of gravity-fed irrigation channels the Moors introduced when they settled this land over a century ago; and ducked for cover from the shadow of an enormous bird that swooped right over us. The bird was in fact a descending paraglider who landed just yards away from where we were. Phew!

After a bit of a harrowing B-line across private lands, we finally made it to the roadway where we could make out the blocky towers of the Alhambra still far in the distance. After 6-7 hours of hiking, my feet were starting to bark, and my energy waned. It looked like we still had so much further to go!

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Finding a Second Wind

Suddenly a ringing and pinging was happening inside my bag. It was the little pink throw-away phone I picked up in Sevilla for a potential rendezvous with a sexy Brazilian geographer. He was also on a solo backpacker’s journey through Spain and traveling to Granada just a few days behind me. He said he’d reach out when he arrived.

We must have passed through the invisible cell phone service line, because my little pink phone lit up with new messages. My newfound friends at the hostel were trying to get a hold of me all day. Apparently, the Brazilian had arrived at the hostel and was looking for me.

Eek! Yay! My heart skipped and suddenly I felt like I floated the 3-mile walk back to Granada. Even after an exciting and exhausting 10-mile hike into and out of the mountains, I found a renewed sense of energy to shower, dress and get ready for part two of the day’s adventures. He was waiting for me there in the lobby; tall, dark, and handsome and with a smile to match the moon and stars.

Samba guitar tunes on a four-string busted guitar with our fellow solo traveler from Brazil.