The Angliru returns: cycling’s most brutal climb awaits La Vuelta 2025
In the misty mountains of Asturias, a narrow road pitches skyward so steeply that even cars have stalled and shuddered on its slopes. Fans crowd this ascent in a frenzy, forming a tunnel of noise as riders grind past on gradients as high as 23%. This is the Alto de l’Angliru: a climb draped in fog and myth, where champions have been both crowned and humbled. As the Vuelta a España returns to these fearsome slopes in 2025, the Angliru’s aura looms as large as ever.
The Angliru’s legend began on a rain-soaked day in 1999, when the Vuelta organizers first unleashed the climb they hoped would rival Alpe d’Huez [Tour] and the Mortirolo [Giro]. On that inaugural ascent, Spain’s José María “Chava” Jiménez emerged from the fog in a gripping pursuit of Pavel Tonkov to seize victory. As El País wrote, “When ‘El Chava’ Jiménez emerged from the fog on the Angliru in 1999, the myth of the Vuelta was created.”
La Vuelta wasted no time in cementing the legend. The very next year, in 2000, the Angliru returned. Gilberto Simoni took the stage and later described the climb as “hell.” Behind him, Roberto Heras set a searing record of 41′55″, a mark that still astonishes.
In 2002, David Millar delivered the harshest verdict of all: “We’re not animals and this is inhuman.” His protest unfolded on a day when not only the riders but the entire race convoy was overwhelmed. Support cars skidded on fan-painted slogans, clutches burned out on the 23 percent ramps, and the Angliru revealed itself as an adversary to everyone who dared its slopes.
'El Infierno' - Angliru by the numbers
At face value, the Angliru’s numbers are intimidating. The summit rises to about 1,560 metres, and from the village of La Vega riders face 12.4 kilometres at an average gradient close to 10 percent. That average, however, conceals the true brutality. The road is manageable for the first half, roughly five kilometres at seven to eight percent, before a short flat respite.
Then the second half is pure purgatory, climbing at an average of 15 percent for the final six kilometres. Here the Angliru reveals its most infamous feature, a stretch so steep only goats might feel at home: the Cueña les Cabres, or “goat path,” where the slope pitches up to 23 to 24 percent. For a full kilometre the gradient hovers around 19 percent, breaking the body, mind and spirit of even elite climbers.
Such savage inclines force riders into survival mode. Many zig-zag across the road to ease the gradient, knowing that if they slow too much they risk simply toppling over. Getting out of the saddle is often futile, as the rear wheel can lose traction on the damp, mossy asphalt.
Teams long ago adapted by fitting special gearing, even resorting to mountain-bike cassettes and triple chainrings in the early years, to tame “El Infierno” (the hell), as the climb is known.
Famous battles
In the quarter-century since its debut, the Angliru has been the stage for some of cycling’s most dramatic battles. Every appearance has produced an iconic story. In 2002, amid chaos of rain and stalled cars, Roberto Heras attacked through the fog to win the stage, taking the overall race lead from an exhausted Oscar Sevilla. Heras looked set to win the Vuelta, only for Aitor González of Kelme to snatch overall victory a week later.
Fast forward to 2008: a 25-year-old Alberto Contador danced away from his rivals on the Angliru’s upper ramps, securing the leader’s jersey and ultimately the Vuelta title. Contador’s virtuoso performance on those 20 percent grades completed his career “Grand Tour” triple and endeared him to Spanish fans.
The Angliru has also been the backdrop for unlikely heroes. In 2011, journeyman Spaniard Juan José Cobo rode out of his skin on the Angliru, dropping British favourites Bradley Wiggins and Chris Froome to seize the red jersey and, with it, an improbable overall Vuelta victory. Years later Cobo’s results were nullified for doping, but the images of him conquering the misty climb live on, and Wout Poels, runner-up that day, was officially credited with the stage win.
In 2013, the Vuelta returned and so did the high drama. Chris Horner, at 41 years old, fended off Vincenzo Nibali on the Angliru to all but clinch the red jersey, becoming the oldest Grand Tour champion in history.
Perhaps the most emotional chapter came in 2017. Facing the Angliru on the penultimate day of that Vuelta, Alberto Contador, in his final race before retirement, attacked solo in a blaze of defiance. The crowd on the slopes roared as their hero conquered the “Angry Lou” one last time. “There couldn’t be a better finish, winning on the Angliru… no way for a better end,” an overcome Contador said of closing out his career atop cycling’s most brutal climb. The Angliru, fittingly, gave a legend the send-off of his dreams.
Most recently, in the fall of 2020, it was Hugh Carthy, who surged past the favourites on the Angliru to win his first Grand Tour stage, a breakthrough that helped propel him to an eventual podium finish in Madrid.
And in 2023, the mountain again staged high drama in the battle of Jumbo-Visma teammates. Primož Roglič rode out of the clouds to take the stage win with Jonas Vingegaard on his wheel, while Sepp Kuss, in red, clung on a few seconds behind to defend his lead. That day saw intra-team tensions erupt on the steep slopes, further burnishing the mountain’s lore.
Stage 13, 2025: The Angliru’s next chapter
All this history sets the stage for La Vuelta 2025, when the Angliru will once again decide fates. Stage 13 of the 2025 race, finishes atop the Angliru and is already circled as the queen stage of this edition. At 202.7 km it is one of the longest stages of the race, winding from Cabezón de la Sal in Cantabria across to Asturias.
For much of the day the route is benign, even flat, lulling the peloton in the first 140 kilometres. In the final 60 kilometres the road rears up into a trilogy of climbs that will ignite the general classification battle.
First comes the Category 1 Alto de la Mozqueta, a wake-up after hours of relative calm. Not long after, the riders tackle the Alto del Cordal, whose summit offers only a brief respite and an intermediate sprint bonus before a treacherous descent into the village of La Vega.
There, looming ahead, is the day’s main course: the Alto de l’Angliru itself, awaiting the riders like a hungry beast. For more than two decades this mountain has been the Vuelta’s crucible, a place where legends are made and broken.
The Angliru endures because it is more than a climb; it is theatre. The sight of champions zigzagging at walking speed, surrounded by cowbells and chaos, has made it the race’s signature stage. Loved, cursed and feared in equal measure, it remains cycling’s purest blend of pain and glory.
On September 5, 2025, the foggy heights of Asturias will once again decide who rises and who is broken on the road to red.
