For one morning each April, the birds of Mallorca have to swallow an annual dose of their own medicine. At an ungodly hour, for once it’s them being woken against their will by thousands of freehubs buzzing through the night, heading towards the start line of the island’s long-running sportive, the Mallorca 312.
The day will later see sunshine and blue skies, but as we stand waiting in the start pen, rain is lashing down and I can’t help but sympathise with the group of five stick-thin Spanish lads in skinsuits next to me who are huddled together in the dark for warmth like aerodynamic penguins. An hour rolls by and, just as the heavens are running out of rain, the sodden mass of humanoid bike centaurs starts to move.
The mass start is split into pens, with riders arriving as early as 4am to get a good spot. Even in good weather, it’s chilly first thing.Mike Massaro / Cyclist
Until 2016, the 312 followed the circumference of the island, before organisers switched the route to the west to enable closing the roads. Now the shaky set-square route takes riders in an anticlockwise direction across the island’s mountainous northwest coastline and has an elevation profile that looks like a stegosaurus tail. Three distances are on offer – 167km, 225km and 312km – with respective total ascents of 2,475m, 3,973m and 5,050m.
Such is the renown of the event that it has attracted former pros of the likes of Sean Kelly, Annemiek van Vleuten, Vincenzo Nibali and Alberto Contador among its 8,500 participants, and the organisers proudly declare last year’s edition generated nearly €18 million for the island.
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Ride time
Passing under the starting gantry, the sky is suddenly full of plastic sheets and bits of clothing as riders fling their disposable insulation over the barriers to the early-rising spectators. I can almost visualise the battles going on in people’s minds as trains of riders whizz round me at 50kmh. The vows to not burn any early matches are tested by the offer of a magic carpet ride through the neutralised zone to the first major climb of the day.
I look pityingly at the riders who’ve somehow managed to puncture within minutes of rolling out. Luke Barfoot, who will go on to finish second on the day, tells me later that it was his only piece of advice to his mates: ‘Put on new tyres.’ I wonder if his friend is one of those I see on hands and knees by the side of the road.
With 8,500 participants, it takes a while for the group to thin out. You’ll be grateful when it does on the fast descents.Mike Massaro / Cyclist
After 20 minutes of attentive wheel-sucking on the flat prologue, the climb to the 537m Coll de Femenia begins. ‘It all kicks off from the bottom of the first climb and then that’s it,’ says Barfoot. ‘That’s where the first selection of about 50 riders happens.’
Back with the pack animals, things are a bit different. The 9km ascent at 5% proves not steep enough to break things up, and the climbing takes place in formation. After winching ourselves up a couple of switchbacks, the banister road emerges through a break in the trees and any residual morning chills are dispelled by the welcome heat of the rising sun. Looking south towards the Puig Tomir peak, the scenery starts as it means to go on, a verdant patchwork of pine forest, mottled stone crags and a dusty bluish sky.
Past the summit we ignore the famous turning towards Sa Calobra and head up towards Puig Major, the highest point of the race at 899m. There’s a chance to refuel just before the climb, and it’s a level of chaos I wasn’t expecting. The entire group grinds to a halt.
Good luck if you’re a roadside spectator keeping an eye out for a friend. Many riders opt to wear the official (light green) 312 jersey.Mike Massaro / Cyclist
Bikes pile up on a lattice of rough piping. Beyond, gazebos packed with volunteers dispense sweet treats, bananas, sandwiches and icy soft drinks. I wolf down what I can, crush a sandwich into a back pocket and down the first of my ten cans of Coke.
Shut up teeth.
Medium pig
From this eastern side, Puig Major isn’t quite so major, averaging around 5% for 5km. After navigating a dark, cold tunnel at the summit, the long descent to Sóller demands care. At this point, riders from all three distance options are still on the same route, so descending ability is varied and there seems no consensus on road etiquette, with some slow descenders sitting on the left-hand side, encouraging faster riders to undertake dangerously.
I get down without any scares – the roads have largely dried out after the 5am showers – but there are cavalier manoeuvres aplenty on display. At one point the route is closed temporarily to give ambulances access.
Cyclist (centre, in dark green) seeks out shade while it’s still available in the early stages of the race.Mike Massaro / Cyclist
With 71km now in the rear-view mirror – or a meagre 23% of the total, as I can’t help but calculate – the next 80km will be punishing, with barely an inch of flat road on offer. If I’m to avoid being gobbled up by the broom wagon, this will be the most fraught section of the event. While it’s less vital to be in the wheels during this phase, I know I can’t afford to lose touch with the stronger riders currently in my orbit if I want some decent assistance for the flatter 150km that makes up the second half the race.
Later on, Barfoot tells me that he performs his mental gymnastics in a different way: ‘My screen only shows the map, power and heart rate. No mileage. Otherwise, mentally, it’s too difficult.’
To make it to the end, riders have to maintain an average of at least 22kmh for the entirety of the route. Helpfully, or hauntingly, a group of uniformed pacemakers stalks the roads in formation, gleefully pedalling up to feeding stations in riotously high spirits, sending panicking riders fleeing in terror, thinking that they’re about to get hauled into the van. It’s the 312’s answer to the child catchers.
The serpentine climbs in the northern Tramuntana mountain range are one of the biggest draws for the 200,000 cycling tourists who visit Mallorca every year.Mike Massaro / Cyclist
Having dealt with the stretch of climbing in good time, I am aghast to see the pacemakers pull up alongside me. Am I going too slowly? Are they going too fast?
‘Don’t worry,’ an annoyingly fresh-looking pacemaker reassures me. ‘We are waiting here for a time now.’
Like a mouse in a cattery, I scuttle out as quickly as I can and jump onto the closest wheel. It’s hard to know how strictly these rules are enforced but I don’t intend to stick around to find out.
Gravel and a hard place
After rolling off the 465m peak of Grau de Superna, a luxuriously long descent morphs into something I recognise as flat ground. Now is the moment to claw back some time.
I insert myself into a group of about 15 riders, and once I’m settled I glance behind to see at least another 40 riders in tow. I’m barely turning the pedals and yet we’re ticking along at over 40kmh. Thoughts of the broom wagon evaporate with every minute I spend cocooned in the safety of the bunch.
On the road to the highest point of the race, Puig Major, riders pass Mirador Embassement de Cúber, a man-made reservoir that provide water for the island.Mike Massaro / Cyclist
Just as I’m starting to relax, however, I get a serious shock. Compared to the roads in the north of the island, these are in terrible disrepair. It seems like the road-laying artisans of the Tramuntana mountain range simply downed tools once they reached the central flatlands. It’s not quite strade bianche but the desiccated mess beneath me fills the void in my brain’s worry chamber recently vacated by ‘massive climbs’. Yet while extra vigilance is required to negotiate the broken surfaces in a packed bunch, the average speed remains fizzingly high.
It’s when we reach Sa Pobla, a town barely 10km from the finish line, that the final plot development occurs. Riders taking on the 226km distance head straight on, while we – the completists – take a 90° turn onto a particularly shocking bit of road. We’re heading eastwards on a pointless 90km dogleg.
The section of riding that follows is forgettable yet mentally attritional. By this point I’m so focussed on holding the wheel in front of me that the lack of scenery barely registers. While no incline lasts more than a few hundred metres, the climbs are either nasty ramps or grinding false flats, neither of which anyone has much appetite for.
Having selflessly nominated myself as protected rider for the day, I’ve successfully kept my nose out of the wind. But with the end in sight, and no sign of the grim time-cut reapers, I generously take a few spins on the front.
Mike Massaro / Cyclist
The final stretch
Pulling into the last feed stop at 258km, the party is in full swing. The beers are out, plates of food are being passed around and some riders seem to think the work is done. I’m still not convinced, however, and leave swiftly – perhaps too swiftly as, for the first time today, I am on my own.
I’m a lone, cowed figure on a darkening, empty dual-carriageway with nowhere to hide. It’s only about an hour or so of solo riding but the time seems to stretch out like one of Dalí’s melting clocks. The suffering curdles into irritation when the route takes me right past my hotel and waiting bed. ‘This too shall pass,’ I tell myself.
Large swathes of the course run through remote Mallorcan landscape – not a good place to remember you didn’t fit new tyres.Mike Massaro / Cyclist
Before long – and with a tenth can of Coke swishing through my veins like liquid manna – the final straight into Platja de Muro appears, with crowds of people roaring their support all the way along the road. I cross the line in decent time, delighted to be one of the 2,628 finishers of the full route. Almost one in five of the riders won’t finish at all, either pulling out or being swept up by the broom wagon.
Now it’s time to retrace my pedal strokes back to the hotel. What’s another 4km when you’ve already banked 312 of them?
The details
What Mallorca 312 OK Mobility
Where Platja de Muro, Mallorca
How far 312km (5,050m elevation)
How long Cutoff 14h 20min
Next event 25th April 2026
How much Solo €164.50
More info mallorca312.com
With around a third of the race complete, riders glimpse the western coastline close to the capital, Palma.Mike Massaro / Cyclist
Up the pointy end
Luke Barfoot of Poole-based Primera-TeamJobs, who finished second overall, reveals how things went down at the front of the race
‘On the Sóller descent, [former pro Alejandro] Valverde was on the front and you could just tell he knew the roads inside out. He was literally on the apex on every bend. With 60km to go, it was down to four riders: Valverde, Adam Roberge, Eduardo Talavera Fernandez and me. Valverde was doing turns on the front to help Spanish countryman Eduardo [who eventually finished third] so I knew I had to go.
‘I got a gap of 100m and then Valverde towed the other two guys back to me. At the last roundabout I hit my one-minute power peak for the whole ride. Valverde had sat up [it wouldn’t be seemly for a former pro cyclist to win the event] but the other two were on my wheel. I had the momentum in the final sprint, but then I saw all these sheets of plastic advertising flapping on the ground at the finish line and I had to back off for safety.
‘It’s just bad luck. If the race had been 50km longer I would have won. The other two were on their knees. Still, we smashed the course record by 20 minutes so it was a good showing all round.’
Passing under one of Mallorca’s many stone arches, descending riders receive a warning of obstacles from a roadside marshall.Mike Massaro / Cyclist
How we did it
Travel
Mallorca’s only airport is Palma de Mallorca on the west of the island, which does some serious heavy lifting delivering overseas riders to the island for the event. Flights are available from a wide range of UK airports in April and there’s a ferry that goes to Mallorca from Barcelona or Valencia, so overground non-flying routes are also possible. We hired a car and drove the 45 minutes across the island to Platja de Muro.
Accommodation
Cyclist stayed at the Zafiro Bahía (zafirohotels.com) which is just a few kilometres from the start line. There are multiple swimming pools, all-inclusive options and the back gate opens onto the beach – plus the hotel is totally geared up to accommodate cyclists, putting on a special breakfast at 3.30am for the Mallorca 312 participants. Prices start at around £155 per night including breakfast.
Thanks
Many thanks to the Mallorca 312 OK Mobility Organisation, which provided entry to the race, arranged our accommodation and connected us to moto driver Carlos, who ferried our photographer around. Thanks also to Brian from the Pinarello Experience in Port de Pollença. The shop has an inexhaustible range of Pinarellos and lent us a Dogma F for a few days. Also huge thanks to the scores of diesel engine participants who did endless turns on the front. Vamos!
