The World's Most Dangerous Road

After two weeks, I thought I would have been used to the altitude, but I still feel like I'm out of breath constantly. Every so often I have to remind my body to take deeper breaths. Sometimes, especially if I wake up and immediately start doing things, I feel as if my lungs won't expand large enough. La Paz is built in a large valley with the main street running right down the center, which means if I want to get anywhere I always have to walk uphill at least one way, usually both ways. Often I walk about three or four blocks and then suddenly realize that I'm breathing like I'm out for a run.

So, I've taken eight rides down our main trip, the World's Most Dangerous Road. The first three trip were pretty much as a participant. The next two as sort of an assistant and doing many of the jobs that the Bolivian guide usually does. The last two were as a lead guide with another lead guide observing and giving me tips. My final training ride is tomorrow with the owner of the company coming along and if he deems me doing a great job, then I start leading trips on my own.

The Boli's role as a guide is not so much as my assistant, because they have all been here much longer than I and know the road much better, but more as support. They do most the background work while I'm dealing with clients. This included getting bikes ready, taking photos and dealing with maintenance issues. I've really enjoy most of the Boli guys I work with and am happy that this job sort of provides me with some immediate Bolivian friends as opposed to my job in China where it was hard to break out of the ex-pat community.

I begin my average day by walking downstairs to our office at 6:15am to gather my stuff. I grab the list of clients for the day, radios, a camera and my trip bag which has everything I'll need paperwork wise. Then I book it over the workshop two blocks away where I meet the Bolivian guide and driver. We gather the bikes together, grab the rental gear, the vehicle first aid kit, the “oh shit bag,” the tools/spare parts box, the rope rescue bag and the back board. From here we load up the bus and are meeting the clients in a cafe downtown by 7:15. After meet and greet and whatnot we're driving up to La Cumbre which actually means the summit. The drive up is through high Altiplano terrain. I've never been to Scotland, but I have always imagined this is what the Scottish highlands look like. Its like rolling hills of dry grass and rocky pinnacles looming high above. I sometimes imagine William Wallace on the peak of a pinnacle, kilt blowing in wind, standing high above the herds of llama. Of course this is Bolivia and not Scotland. There is much more likely to be a Cholita standing guard over the massive llama herds. (Clarification: In many Latin American countries chola and cholita are derogatory words against women, but in Bolivia, Chola is considered a polite word for indigenous women such as Quechua and Aymara women who still wear the traditional dress. Cholita shows more respect than chola.)

La Cumbre is the pass where we unload the bikes next to a small lake surrounded by high peaks often covered in snow. Here I go over our main safety speech, teach the tourists to respect hydraulic disc brakes and mainly press the point of not acting like an complete idiot. The ride is extremely easy, but has massive consequences of failure. Our largest cause of accidents is always testosterone exceeding ability level. From La Cumbre at 4,700 meters elevation, the ride starts out extremely easy down a long paved road. This is our opportunity to see who can actually ride a bike and who we need to give a good deal of coaching to. This part is also much steeper than the drive up. Instead of rolling grass hills and giant llama herds we instead descend through a steep gorge of large rocky cliffs. After passing through a military drug checkpoint searching for cocaine ingredients, we come to the town of Unduavi. From here we have a 8km climb uphill. We give the clients the option of doing the climb or riding in the bus for it. As far as grade goes, its not very hard. However, we are still at 3,300 meters and the air is very thing. The first hill always makes my lungs feel as they are trapped in a box and can't open large enough. We are also riding downhill bikes with a large amount of suspension and horrible pedaling efficiency. Most of the time I enjoy the uphill climb so I don't make it sound as hard. If I don't feel like climbing one day or its wet out, I make the climb sound absolutely horrible and nobody wants to even try. We give the clients a vote and if at least half the groups wants to do it then we let them try. Otherwise it wouldn't be fair for the most the group to sit on the bus for an hour while a few people try to prove something.

After this climb, we take a right on a gravel road heading downhill. This is the official beginning of the World's Most Dangerous Road. The road really is easy to ride. Its usually wide enough for only one vehicle, but has pull-offs every 25 to 50 meters. However, the cliffs on the side are often as deep as 700 meters straight down. We also pass many crosses and monuments. The attitude generally determines whether I tell more or less horror stories. If the group has a bunch of nervous people then I generally hold off on most the stories until the drive back up. If the group is full of cocky guys then I tell lots of horror stories on the way down. The first monument we come across is a rectangular block with five names on it and a bolt sticking out of the top. The monument commemorates the five Martyrs of Democracy who in 1944 were bound and thrown off the cliff by a military dictatorship in 1944. There also used to be a cross on the monument, but jeep hit it a few years ago and flipped over the edge taking the cross with it. You can still see where the monument has moved a few inches on its base towards the cliff edge.

At one spot a French girl didn't take her sunglasses off as she came through a tunnel and face planted straight into the side wall. She spent two days unconscious in the hospital. Another French girl stopped at cliff edge once, stood there straddling her bike and just lost her balance falling the wrong direction. She fell about 600 meters. The first bicycle death on the road is commemorated by a small simple plaque in Hebrew. An Israeli girl was trying to wipe here goggles of condensation while moving and rode straight off the cliff edge. Another guy was watching a beautiful blue butterfly when we went sailing into the wind with the butterfly. He actually survived with two full arm casts. There is one spot where they just recently built a fence. Last year, a tourist was racing another tourist and took the off camber turn too fast. He completely slid off the cliff. A few months later the owner of another local company was taking pictures of his clients facing the wall side in the exact same spot. He took one too many steps backwards and fell to his death. Near this spot we pass the supposed house of Klaus Barbie, the Butcher of Lyon, while he was hiding in Bolivia. We also generally point out a large cross the for the worst accident of the road's history. A truck carrying over 100 people in the back fell off the road, while trying to get around a bus coming the other direction. The road got its designation as the World's Most Dangerous Road by the Inter-American Development Bank in 1995 for its average of 200 – 300 deaths per year. In 2006 they opened a new road nearby which has drastically decreased traffic on the old road and thus decreased the death rate. There have 18 deaths on the road since Gravity started running bike trips down the road in the early 90s. The only client that Gravity has ever lost though was an older heart attack victim. All the horror stories above have been from different companies.

As the road descends we slowly see more and more vegetation. Eventually we actually drop into the Amazon Basin. The terrain is more that off alpine jungle at 1,100 meters above sea level. This area is also covered in Cocoa fields. We end our ride at an animal refuge near the town of Yolosa. The refuge, La Sende Verde, keeps animals that have been confiscated from private owners or the black market, but cannot be returned to the wild. These animals include a few species of monkey, parrots, tortoises, snacks, a spectacled bear, a coati and a few others. The coati and the monkeys are absolutely amazing. The coati is related to our racoons, but much much friendlier. He enjoys cuddling with people and will clean you skin by lightly nibbling at it. Many of the monkeys also enjoy being with people and I'm constantly amazed at how human like their interactions seem. They will often grab your hand and try to lead you around to places that they want you to go. They also like to play, wrestle and cuddle. Especially on cold or rainy days the monkeys get very lazy and seek out people to cuddle up with for warmth. Sometimes the squirrel monkeys and capuchins try to crawl inside people's shirts. There is one spider monkey in particular that has come to know me. When I walk in Cacao will often run up to me and give me hug and then grab my hand with either his hand or tail to lead me somewhere. Le Sende Verde is also an eco-resort in order to support the refuge side of business. Here, our clients get a free buffet lunch, a beer, showers and a pool to swim in.

After lunch we hop back onto the bus for a 3½ hour ride back to La Paz on the same road we just came down. I find this part much scarier than riding a bike down, but our drivers have all been driving the road for a very long time and are very careful. I usually tell the clients more history or horror stories as we come back up the road. Then we mostly kick back and relax till La Paz. Upon our return we drop the clients off at their hostels and hotels, take all the gear back to the workshop, head back to the office, pay the driver, split the tips, burn the photo CDs and other general end of trip stuff. Depending on the group and generally how fast our day was, I can be down with all this anywhere in-between 6 and 10pm. Usually I have just enough energy to walk down the street, grab some street food and head to bed. Getting up to do it again the next day at 6am.