Mallorca’s Wild Side: The Island’s Most Extreme Climbs

Mallorca is a cycling cliché.
Perfect tarmac. Predictable gradients. Views built for postcards.

It’s what draws riders in. Sa Calobra. Puig Major. The smooth, the scenic, the steady.

But not everything on this island is curated for comfort. Look a little harder, or ride a little further, and you’ll find the roads that don’t make the brochures. Where the tarmac ends, the gradients bite, and the climbs feel more personal than public.

This is Mallorca’s other side.
The climbs you have to earn.

Es Verger: The Reborn Beast

A few years ago, no one rode Es Verger unless they had a gravel bike or something to prove. The road was broken: loose stone, potholes, and rough concrete. Most cyclists gave it a miss.

Then it got resurfaced. Now it’s one of the best 4 km stretches on the island.

Twenty-one tight hairpins climb just outside Alaró, threading through rock faces and olive groves with barely a car in sight. It averages just under 9 percent, enough to keep you honest but steady enough to find a rhythm.

At the top, the tarmac ends at the Es Verger lamb restaurant. A stone building tucked into the hillside, usually surrounded by hikers and sheep. Most riders stop here.

But the road doesn’t. Beyond the restaurant, the asphalt falls apart again. The route continues to the ruins of Castell d’Alaró. A rough, punishing stretch that’s more hike-a-bike than training ride. If you want to lean into the chaos, it’s there.

Es Verger is two climbs in one. One smooth, one not. Both worth doing.

Port des Canonge: The Hairpin Maze

Just south of Esporles, a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it turn drops off the MA10 and winds down through pine forest to the sea. A narrow concrete descent, cut tight into the hillside.

At the bottom: nothing. A few houses. A quiet bay. And one way out.

The return climb is where it earns its place. Twenty-three hairpins in less than 5 km. The average gradient is 6.5 percent, but that number is skewed by a short downhill near the top. The real climb is packed with ramps over 14 percent, each one folding into the next.

No room to settle. No rhythm. Just a constant reset through blind corners and awkward gradients.

There’s barely any traffic. The sea never quite leaves your side. But don’t let the calm fool you. This climb will wear you down.

Comuna de Bunyola: Gravel Grind

Most Mallorcan climbs feel like they were designed for road bikes. This one wasn’t.

It starts just outside Bunyola and heads up into the forest. Seven kilometres at 6.3 percent doesn’t sound bad on paper. But paper doesn’t factor in dust, loose stone, or poorly cambered concrete.

Traction is the main concern. You’ll be weaving between roots, gravel, and cracked surfaces. Getting out of the saddle usually means losing grip.

Some of the steepest corners are paved with concrete slabs. Don’t relax. These come with sharp drainage gaps, and they’re slick enough to keep you on edge.

The forest is calm. The road is not. This climb feels twice as long as the numbers suggest.

Descending demands control. You can pick up speed quickly and there’s very little margin for error. If you want to earn some bonus points, ride the upper extension beyond the gate. It’s ugly, awkward, and steep.

If you like your climbs gritty and technical, this one delivers.

Sobremunt: The Absolute Brute

If Mallorca’s climbs were siblings, Sobremunt would be the one that disappeared for ten years and came back uninvited.

It starts gently. A roll out from Establiments. Shaded road. Easy gradient.

Then it breaks.

The climb hits 15 percent, then keeps going. Eighteen. Twenty. Some ramps touch 25. You’re zigzagging for traction, not for speed. Forget rhythm. Forget pace. You’re just trying not to stop.

The road surface does not help. Cracked tarmac, gravel spills, deep potholes. It’s a mountain trail pretending to be a road.

There’s no traffic. No houses. Just the sound of tyres slipping and the occasional goat that seems faintly amused.

It’s brutal, relentless, and deeply satisfying. When you summit, the view across the mountains feels well-earned. This is the climb that punches back.

Vall de Colonya: The Silent Killer

No signs. No cyclists. No warning.

Vall de Colonya hides behind Pollenca Old Town, twisting up through farmland and low forest with almost no indication that it exists. Just under 4 km long, with an average of 7 percent, it doesn’t look like much on paper. But once you’re in it, the story changes fast.

The first kilometre is easy. Then it turns. The ramps steepen and hold. Long straights that feel like pushing into a headwind made of stone. Some sections hit 24 percent. The road narrows, corners tighten, and the gradient never quite lets you settle.

The views toward Pollenca Bay are there if you look up, but most won’t. It’s a climb that forces you to focus. It’s quiet, shaded, and sharp.

If you're staying in Port de Pollenca or Alcudia, it makes a savage little extension to the Garage Loop or lighthouse ride. Just don’t expect a soft landing on the descent. It’s narrow, steep, and sketchy.

The first time I rode it, I had to bunny hop a large snake. That felt about right.

Puig de Randa (South Ascent): The Underrated One

This climb isn’t extreme. But it is excellent.

The southern approach to Puig de Randa is quiet and overlooked. You won’t find it in many guides, which is part of the appeal.

It starts with a rapid-fire stack of hairpins that gain elevation quickly. They’re not especially steep, but they come at you fast. The road surface is uneven, but not bad. No cars. No crowds.

Halfway up, the road straightens and the gradient ramps up. You’ll hit a few short sections around 13 percent. The views start opening up. You pass a strange bunker-like compound, then link into the final stretch of the classic Randa climb from the monastery side.

At the top, you get a full panorama of the island in every direction.

It’s not a monster. But it’s better than it needs to be.

Yes, Mallorca still offers postcard climbs, steady gradients, and silky descents.

But hidden just off the main roads are the climbs that push back.
Rough, steep, and forgotten.
No traffic. No comfort. No guarantees.

This is the island’s wild side.
And it’s worth finding.