The most dangerous road in the world...I guess
Trip Start
Sep 17, 2007
1
43
272
Trip End
Oct 08, 2008
Coroico,
Bolivia
Saturday, November 10, 2007
Here's why: There have been at least 8 cycling deaths on this road. The last one happened four months ago. Buses actually fell over the edge of the road multiple times, killing dozens of passengers. Now that the new road is open this is no longer an issue, but you ride next to the cliffs and can't stop thinking "If I fall, I die." It becomes a mantra. Cyclists have to ride on the outside of the cliff because if a vehicle (usually a taxi or giant truck) comes up the road it has to be able to stop by crashing into the mountain
the valley
. I guess we just get to fly off the edge. Seriously, if you are not a good cyclist you have to be careful and go with an agency that doesn't cut any corners to bring down the price of the tour. Even if you are a good cyclist. We had a crazy Icelandic man on our trip who decided to race the guide. I asked Travis how they could mountain bike like that. "Because they aren't afraid to die," he said. I really didn't think that this excursion was a good idea, and this seemed to delight Travis because then we would only have to pay for him to go. But I said, no, I would just sit and worry about him all day, so I had to go, too. Besides, I didn't want to miss out on any fun. Turns out I was a little more daring than Travis anyway.
We had some sweet rides. Dual-suspension, top-of-the-line mountain bikes that I would totally invest in if I ever wanted to go mountain biking again. The dual-suspension allowed us all to hop around on our bikes. Some of the guys even did it for the camera while riding. I was just concentrating on not skidding.
We started up at La Cumbre, the highest point of the trip. Here it was cold, and our guide said that he often had snow and rain. Good weather for us, though. Our guide was Victor, and his second was Santos. They would be our mechanics and prevent us from going too fast down the dangerous part of the road. There were also the two drivers who followed us with replacement bikes and tires, and who would take us up if we decided not to ride anymore. They were also the official trip photographers.
We started down the asphalt, during which time I was able to recall why bicycling was fun and got my need for speed
looking tough
. The whole way down the asphalt I was the only female tailing the four more experienced guys. Travis was slow. I asked him why he didn't go fast, but he said he went plenty fast enough. Hmph. At one of the police checkpoints two of the guys came speeding down the road seeming to obey the order to stop. The guard got cranky and said he would send them back to La Paz. The boys and Victor all seemed to find this amusing. Then there were the hills. I personally went about three meters upward before getting off my bike and climbing into the jeep. Had I not just hiked the Inca Trail, climbed Waynapicchu, walked 4 hours across an island, and climbed to the top of La Paz, I might have been able to go uphill. As it was, my thighs were dying and I just didn't want to. We ran into one of the Australian girls who was having issues with her gears. Octavio hopped out of the jeep and checked them out. They were fine. We followed her a little while before she finally gave up and climbed in the jeep, too. The van was behind us to follow the last person, so we sped up the hill. Along the way I shouted encouragement out the window to our teammates as we passed them. About half had stopped halfway up the hill and were walking to the top. The four guys who were always in the lead managed to ride the whole way. So did Roland, who reminded me of no one more than the crazy German who burns his hand in Raiders of the Lost Ark, but he was last up the hill. Travis also made it all the way to the top, though he walked part of the last bit. As I went down to meet him he hopped back on his bike and sailed up to the top. Hmph. I felt a little bad that I was all chipper and he was out of breath.
Mmm. Snack for energy restoration
before the ride
. Then off we went again. This time we all went up and down the last little hill. The asphalt was only 30 km, and ours was a speedy group. After the three stops/checkpoints we soon got to the beginning of the death road. The road itself is gravel and is carved in swirlies along the side of the mountains. Ergo, as you descend, on your left side is nothing, and on your right side is a giant cliff. We had to ride on the left side of the road, because, as I have mentioned, vehicles needed the right for running into the mountains. I have also mentioned that to the left there was nothing, and I am not kidding. There was nothing except the odd tree some meters down to catch you if you fell over the edge. That's how you die. You only have to fall over the edge. Moreover, anyone who's driven on gravel knows that its a bit of a testy medium. We had to stick to the tire grooves, because the extra gravel on the edges was more likely to catch in the tires and make them go random directions.
Five minutes into the gravel we were divided into the fast and slow teams. I didn't necessarily want to be in the fast group, but I definitely didn't want to go with the slow girls. They were sooooooo slow. I made Travis come with me in the fast group. Turns out he was more careful than I was, and he figured out how to fix his skids without falling over. I went too fast and usually just decided to fall if it came to that. It did. Twice. I hurt my pinkie and taped it at the end of the ride. Everyone asked what happened. Only injury on the whole ride. I also think I was the only person to fall. But it was still fun. Victor said that as long as I didn't fall over the edge it was all good. I agreed.
We stopped at one corner, which overlooked another corner, and Victor told us the first death stories
the group
. It was the Italian boy's corner and the French girl's corner. The Italian boy had rented a bicycle and was attempting to break the record of 1 hr 26 min (we got to see the guy who did it at the end of our trip). There always seems to be a car involved. In this case a car apparently came up around the corner and scared the boy so he ran right off the cliff. At this point the cliff is not so sheer and has a blanketing of plants, so he might have lived, except that he broke his neck. The French girl's story was even sadder. She had stopped on the edge of the cliff to let some cars pass, but they kept honking at her so she kept backing up. Eventually she backed right off the cliff. She died in the ambulance on the way back to La Paz. These thoughts in mind, we kept going. I think that the uncertain reaction of the gravel under us, combined with these stories, combined with the cliffs made me much more concerned than I had been at the beginning of the ride. Soon we skidded to another stop (directly after my first fall) for lunch. Here there was a beautiful waterfall that cascaded over the edge of the cliff and fell on the road before continuing its descent. There were lots of waterfalls, and they were all pretty, but this was the first one that made contact with the road. Then we got to hear the story of the Israeli boys. Apparently only four months ago two boys had been goofing around on their bikes under the waterfall and then suddenly their tires hit each other and one went over the edge and died
the first stop
. We were warned to stay to the right at this point because the water made the road particularly slick and dangerous. Israeli boy in mind, we all obeyed. The last segments of the trip had the broader road and fewer tight curves. People started going really fast. Then we had to pedal. During one of our last stops overlooking a coca plantation Travis said, "It's not as much fun if you have to pedal, is it?" I made a face. Pedalling is no fun. Victor told us that we would have a couple more cool videos of us riding, and that we should stop before the second river for our last video. We were given permission to do hops if we could. I think Travis and I opted just to ride hop free.
Before long we ran through the last river and skidded to a stop outside a bar in Yolosa. We had all survived! And we were all seriously hopped up on adrenaline. So we shared a few beers and sat in our sweat and dirt while we caught our breath before going to our last stop in Coroico. There we had a yummy buffet lunch and showers and a dip in the pool before singing our way back to La Paz with English music most of us hadn't heard in years.
It was a very good day. But we naturally didn't go to bed, or call home to tell mom that, yes, I am still alive. No, we got on a night bus to Potosí. Here we go again...
Erin
Comments
Hello!
Both of you were so daring to go on the bike ride! Have fun and stay safe! Thanks for sharing your adventures.
Pr. Gigie