Why I Ride

First entry in quite a few months and its really more about riding than Bolivia. April 10^th, we had a national race down here. In between runs, everyone was down at the bottom playing around on two large table tops that the race ended on. My friend, Ben, came into one too fast, overshot the landing, bike split in two near the headset and Ben landed straight on his face. His full face definitely saved his life, but he was still knocked completely out. At the hospital they discovered a blood clot in his head that needed to be drained before it did permanent damage to his brain. That first night was rather intense as we waited on word from the doctors. Eventually, they came out and told us that all was well, but he would still be in a coma for at least a week or so. The doctors were not sure how much damage had been done to his brain, so they intentionally kept him in a coma for three weeks in order to give his brain time to heal without it being used much. This past week, he was finally awake enough to be flown back home to the States with his mother and doctor. He still has a long recovery ahead though. At the moment, he can open his eyes and move his body, but he can't talk and we're still unsure of how much and who he recognizes.

Ben rips it up on the Cucu

This has really been making me think a lot lately about what it is we do for fun. I know that for many of my friends and myself, these sports we do are not just a hobby, but a part of life. Whether this thing is rock climbing or kayaking or mountain biking, our lives revolve around being able to satisfy this need. In choosing a school, I only seriously thought about places with good outdoor playgrounds nearby. In choosing jobs since, I have always looked at the wilderness sports potential either within the job or nearby. I know that I will never be able to survive within an office in a big city. If I don't get out into the woods for awhile, I start to feel tired all the time and my mood takes a down turn. Why?

Ben trials riding at the neighborhood park.

Why does this addiction have such a strong hold upon us? These sports are dangerous. No matter what people say, you cannot deny that these sports are much more dangerous than your average game of soccer or anything else that most the world's people do for fun. Video games are a ton of fun and a whole lot safer. Ball sports are always a good time and if you get hurt, the hospital is only a few minutes away. I always tell people I could die crossing the road, so why worry about it? The truth though is that I have never even come close to getting hurt crossing the road. Whether you're risking that one big fall while climbing or “death by a thousand cuts” mountain biking, the danger is always closer.

So what is it that draws us towards these seemingly dangerous sports far from help? Some people say its the adrenaline of being in a dangerous position far from help. The adventurous say they do it for the feeling of just being out there in a foreign environment. Others say its the sheer exercise that keeps them going. Certain masochists do it to push themselves beyond their limits in ways they have never imagined. I know for me, it has to be a mixture of many different elements, because it sure can't be any single one of those. Sure I enjoy the adrenaline, but I'm not an adrenaline junkie. I'm not Michael Reardon or Aron Ralston. I'm not stupid. When I get too scared, I back down, because I know I would rather take a small whip than a 40 footer. I try to stay smart. If I was doing it for the exercise, I would also enjoy running or spinning on a trainer or any number of workouts. In reality though, all that stuff is super boring. I might as well paint a fence for fun. If exercising was really fun to the majority of people, America wouldn't be so fat.

Ben hitting a ceek gap step down in Pura Pura.

What really draws me towards mountain biking though is the all encompassing physical, psychological and philosophical aspects. A large part of why I do what I do is a mixture of all these things. I want to push myself, exercise has its physical and psychological benefits and I do get enjoyment out of the adrenaline aspect. Flying down a tight piece of singletrack at 30mph is fun. Climbing up a hill for two hours for the reward of a sick downhill is both fun and good for my body. Hitting a jump for the first time after being too scared of it for too long is one of the greatest feelings in the world. Spending a day in the woods, hitting three different peaks and not seeing a soul is relaxing. The biggest reason though, is the machine I'm on top of. I enjoy hiking, climbing, paddling and many other sports in the woods, but nothing beats the feeling of a mountain bike. This is really a simple machine that I am a part of and is a part of me. It aids me in getting to places quicker and with more fun, but I still have to get it there. This is something that I control yet must respect the power of. When it breaks, I can fix it, only to break it again. If I take care of it, I break down less often. If I build the wheel strong and true, it will be less likely to fail at the wrong time. As Robert M. Pirsig said, "The test of the machine is the satisfaction it gives you. There isn't any other test. If the machine produces tranquility it's right. If it disturbs you it's wrong until either the machine or your mind is changed."

So, with this machine that I have taken care of, I end up in a place that means more to me than any other place, have fun in doing so and end up physically and mentally healthier for it. Its for these reasons that I can never see myself giving up on the bicycle or leaving the woods for too long. Ben's accident has really gotten me thinking about whether its all worth it and in the long run, I believe it is. I'll probably choose to wear my full face a little more often now and I'd wouldn't mind picking up a Leatt neck brace for downhill. An acquaintance had a bad climbing accident in Australia while not wearing a helmet. This has gotten me to wear my helmet more often while climbing. These things do have their affect, but it shouldn't stop us from giving up on something that provides so much joy in our lives.

Ben I hope you recover soon and we are all rooting for you. Hope to see you riding again soon in Bolivia or North Carolina.

Feria de Alasita

The Fair of Alasita is actually a long three week celebration in La Paz that just started today. In 1781, a man by the name of Tupac Katari, led an indigenous army of 40,000 in rebellion against the Spanish empire. He laid siege to the city of La Paz for 184 days, but was eventually defeated by an army sent from Buenos Aires. When the siege broke, the governor of La Paz declared a celebration to honor the local deity, Equeco, god of abundance and fertility.

Equeco or Ekeko

Now, 230 years later, Tupac Katari is considered a hero of the indigenous people and the fair looks a bit different. Street vendors come out in hordes selling miniatures of everything you could possibly want. Equeco has been worshiped by people here for centuries, long before any Spanish came to the New World. Possibly originating with the Tiwanaku culture. Today, people believe that if you give Equeco miniatures of your wishes, these things will come back to you in reality.

Down the street, in Plaza Espana, the vendors were out in full force selling everything you could possibly wish for this year. Almost everyone had miniature money including Bolivianos, US Dollars and Euros. Of course, there were houses, cars, trucks and buses. You could even get mini house deeds, university degrees, vehicle titles, passports, marriage licenses and if you you're tired of that, divorce documents. If you want a new love in your life though, you buy little hens and roosters to offer Equeco.

Feria de Alasita is mainly celebrated in La Paz, but other cities around Bolivia have picked it up throughout the later half of the twentieth century. There are also minor celebrations in cities around the world that have significant populations of Bolivians. Most notable of these are Buenos Aires, Argentina and Stockholm, Sweden. However, the fair is more about being during the summer, than at a certain date and so the Stockholm celebration takes place during July and August.

Everything from University diplomas to divorce papers.

Blessing the miniatures over coals.

At a fair in the states you might pay five dollars for a single corn dog. Here I got two pieces of cake, two cookies and a doughnut type thing for $0.85.

This is actually a Chinese symbol prosperity called Chan Chu.

Takesi: Bringing Me Home

 I have found the perfect trail in Bolivia for Pisgah Alumni. For Jubi's birthday we gathered a crew of friends together and headed out for an epic ride along an ancient trail. Throughout Bolivia and Peru there a few ancient roads built before Columbus ever set foot in the New World. Takesi is one of the most well preserved routes and has become a popular hiking trail and occasional mountain bike ride.

With a group of eleven, we hired a bus driver that often works with us at Gravity. His job was to drop us off at the trail head and pick us up at the end. The trail head starts at the base of Mururata, a flat topped mountain near La Paz. Legend has it that Mururata used to be much taller and conical, but Illimani became jealous and cut off Mururata's head. All the red soil around La Paz is supposed to be blood from Mururata's head as it was flung off towards Chile. I was surprised at how far Marco was willing to drive his bus up the mountain. The roads we drove along seemed more fit for a four wheel jeep than a large bus with bikes on top. The first route we tried was blocked by a landslide, so we had to turn around (no easy feat either) and try a different way around the mountain. As we finally neared the trail head, we came upon another landslide that would not let the bus pass. Instead, we hopped off and pedaled to the trail head.

From the trail head itself, we started off pedaling, but quickly found it too difficult. At home, most of the uphill would not be that hard. Between the steepness, the roughness and mostly the 14,000 ft of altitude, we found it much too difficult and pushed our bikes for an hour to the summit of a high pass just below Mururata at about 16,000 ft. At La Cumbre (the summit) we huddled away from the cold wind, took a break from the exhausting climb and stuffed some calories into our stomachs. Its mostly down from here so we brought downhill bikes, but I was definitely cursing the heavy bike and bulky full face helmet on the way up.

The trail down starts off with some pretty easy well preserved sections of Inca paving. The Incas didn't make use of the wheel and so thus their roads are not very conducive to the rolling wheel. Big paving stones with large cracks of plant growth in between. Perfect for mountain biking. Every few meters there's a row of flat rocks oriented vertically across the road designed to slough water off to the side. This means rolling down is a rather bumpy ride with the occasional row of vertical stones to bunny hop over.

Of course, it is also rainy season here in Bolivia. This means the rocks are not only rough and uneven, but super slick also. Parts of the Inca road felt like I was riding down a paved river. As we dropped lower down the trail and entered the high jungle, the sides of the gorge also got much steeper. This meant the trail got much rougher. Suddenly we were really glad to have brought downhill bikes and full face helmets. Much of the trail turned into massive rock gardens, often with rivers of water running straight down the middle. At this point, I felt as if I had come into my element. Some of my friends in the group are normally far faster than I on dry sandy Bolivian trails, but today I was only losing some speed in sections that they would get stuck on or have to get off and walk. I entirely attribute this to having honed my riding skills in the rock gardens and root structures of a wet Pisgah National Forest. However, there was a large difference. Trails at home such as Pilot Rock or Black Mountain have sections of gnarly rock gardens that last minutes at a time. This trail was at least 60% huge long rock gardens and took hours to get down. We all crashed at least once. I crashed twice and others crashed too many times to count. For my first crash, I was riding down through a dense jungle forest on a rock slab titled to the left. With the off camber tilt of the slab and the extreme slickness, my wheels were sliding every which way. I suddenly came upon a sharp 180 switch back, but the turn itself was a three foot drop. I tried to make the turn, but my wheels slid right out and I went off the drop on my side. I'm really happy we all made it down without somebody really hurting themselves or their bike.

After a particularly crazy river crossing, we eventually came to the trail's end in the jungle at around 6,500 ft. About a mile of flat concrete sidewalk led to the road where Marco waited with cerveza for eleven exhausted souls. Once my body heals, I can't wait to get back out there. I would really like to do the trail again soon with a smaller group and work really gnarly sections for some sweet photos. As a large group, I found we were already stopping enough and I didn't want to stop in the fun sections, so the photos I do have look like we were walking bikes up hills and resting more than actually riding. Awesome day though with a bunch of awesome guys.

More epic photos here

 

Christmas Day Epic

Christmas morning, I awoke to a monstrous clap of thunder and let out a tired depressing sigh. This is the morning that Cody, Leith, John and I are supposed to ride our bikes to La Cumbre, 12,000 feet above us. We had a lot of tourists who wanted to ride the road for Christmas Eve and so all four of us had to work the day before. It dumped on us almost all day long and we only said to each other “if it rains like this tomorrow, the day is going to be so much more miserable.” That evening we sent our clients home with the Bolivian guides and settled in to spending the night in La Senda Verde. Imagine then our depression the morning of when we woke up to a torrential downpour. However, we mustered up our energy and met Gavin for breakfast. With Gavin's hearty breakfast in our stomach and after a few quick Merry Christmas wishes we set off for a day in the rain.

Leaving La Senda Verde

A quick bit about our bikes. None of us were on bikes that you would exactly pick for this assignment. John was probably on the bike most designed for this being a Specialized XC, but it was a bit small for him and he had the seat pulled way up past the minimal insertion line. Cody was riding a Kona Hoss. Not ideal, but seemed to work alright and fit him well. Poor Leith probably had the worst steed for the job being a Yeti ASR7. With 7 inches of travel, Leith later told me is was painful too look down and see the suspension bouncing with every pedal stroke. I was pretty surprised he chose to ride the Yeti as opposed to trying to borrow some friend's hardtail. My bike definitely wasn't ideal, but I was happy to have it. I was riding my new old Kona Roast (new to me). Being a dirt jumper and small for me, the geometry was way off and I also had my seat way up right at the minimal insert line, but I have a longer stem on the handlebars so I wasn't as scrunched up as I could have been. Also, Cody and I were lucky to have granny rings whereas Leith and John had to suffer with 1x10s. Lastly, none of us had tires under 2.3 inches wide.

We started out well, laughing and talking merrily as people should be doing on Christmas morning. We quickly made it up to the first river crossing and found it a flood of brown water way higher than normal. As I watched my companions all falter in the torrent of water, I let out a paraboule of primal rage and forged across (only a few honorable men and women are going to have any idea what that means). With the first river out the way, we all found the second much easier. However, after the second river crossing, we all started to slow a bit and concentrate on more riding with less talking. Being the only rider without an mp3 player, I found myself really wishing for some music.

Fixing the Drive-Train

We all expected the gravel road to be the easy part, but definitely not so. We all rolled into Cerro Rojo soaking wet, a bit tired and only an hour into our day. I was surprised at how steep and long the road was to get up to Cerro Rojo. Of course it never feels that steep going down. On the bright side there is a lot of flat and a little downhill after Cerro Rojo, so I was happy to get a break for a bit. Unfortunately, that break went by really shortly and then the climb up to Sacramento was long, steep and grueling. By this point my drive-train is already having problems. For this bike, this was the first time I have ever actually used used the granny gear and I found when pedaling under tension, I couldn't switch into granny. I had to get off and manually pull the chain over with my fingers. This was definitely an issue as it made me far less likely to switch out of granny for the short less steep bits. With a quick break at El Solario's (another bike company) hut and a try at fixing my drive-train problems we continued on.

Landslide

San Juan Waterfalls

I expected the next section up to the San Juan waterfalls to be horrendously long and grueling, but that didn't really help at all. It wasn't just long and grueling, but straight didn't let up. We also had a small landslide to carry our bikes over. There were no flat parts until the waterfalls. We were using our usual stopping points when coming down the road as our key landmarks for taking breaks and regrouping on the way up. So after a short break and snack at San Juan we decided to mesh the next three sections together and continue all the way up to the Martyr's of Democracy monument. I even mentioned to my friends, “Oh the next section shouldn't be so bad. Definitely nowhere near as hard as those last two sections.” Wrong! Once again, I was blown away at how steep and unrelenting the hill really is and how much you don't notice when flying down. This was also time for companies with clients to start meeting us on their way down. This is the only road in Bolivia, in which traffic pattern switches to the left side of the road. This is so that trucks or buses coming down the hill go left and can see where their tires are in relation to the cliff edge outside their driver side window. When we lead trips down the road, we tell our clients this and tell them to stay to the left side so that they don't run into a car or person when coming around a blind corner. However, not all the companies tell their clients this. We stayed to the left pedaling up this section and timidly came up to blind comers in the hope that nobody would be flying down at that moment. I had more then one close encounter though. People are most definitely not expecting to see someone riding their bike up the World's Most Dangerous Road and it showed on their faces as they came around the corner on the wrong side of the road.

El Solario also stopped and gave us some more snacks and water. This kind of blew our universes apart. Amongst ourselves, we tend to give the company a lot of grief, because they don't seem to tell their clients anything about how to ride down the road in a group and how to watch out for other people. They are one of those groups in which people are all over the road and all over the place. Having them be the only group to stop and offer us food and water really made us rethink them a little.

Martyr's of Democracy

After a short break at Martyr’s, we made the final push to the end of the gravel road. Once again, long and grueling with one little flat spot. Especially after I came to the almost ghost town of Chusipata. I knew that we were in the gravel home stretch, but the road from here to the top becomes steep (like most the road) and loose. The gravel in this section is much looser than anywhere else on the road. When riding a bike up this, I felt like we were riding up a scree slope. It was hard work keeping my front tire straight and my rear was often sliding out. Eventually though, we were there. What an awesome feeling seeing that black pavement. After four hours of riding time and maybe five hours total, we were dead and ready for some easier riding. We are also at about 10,820ft here.

When we are guiding groups down the road, we tell the clients that there is an 8km uphill section from Unduavi to the beginning of the gravel road. Its really more undulating than all uphill. I have come to realize that it is actually still mostly downhill with a couple little climbs. I was expecting this part to be a nice long break, but instead found it to have just a few little breaks. Unduavi was waiting for us at the end though and rolling into town we found Jubi with his blue jeep waiting for us. Our friends Jubi and Gabriele had driven out on Christmas day to meet us and give support. Not only was I all to happy to get rid of my pack, but Jubi also had my mp3 player from the day before. After a good long break, some more food and a good stretch of the legs we set off with a renewed sense of being.

Having music to listen to changed my world. After a quick scary ride through the tunnel, I was able to settle in and really crank for the first time all day. From Unduavi to Pongo was definitely long and tiring, with zero flat bits, but for once I was able to settle into a cadence and didn't have to shift out of 2 and 3 once. No more granny gear. Pongo came and went with a quick break to smash down some chocolate and a Gatorade. At this point, I was really starting to wonder when the altitude would kick in. As the military drug checkpoint of Rinconada finally came into view, my butt was so sore, but I knew we were headed into the home stretch. We expected this to be the hardest bit. From Rinconada to the top, the road gets much steeper and we were headed into the severe altitude range. The road here goes from about 13,000 to 15,500 ft. Every time I would come around a big 180° turn and see the steep grade ahead, my heart would sink, but I just dug in and kept the top in mind. If we made it this far, there was no way we were going to quit now. As I came up to our last landmark before the top, El Sapo, I found Cody waiting for the rest of us, but I told him that there was no way I stopping this close to La Cumbre. With a smile, he hopped back on his bike and we finished the last bit.

Into the Mist

As we crested the top and La Cumbre was just coming into view, I looked back to see Leith sprinting to catch me right before the end. I was so not in the mood, but I joined along anyway for a final extremely painful sprint to the finish. It was such a glorious feeling to have reached the top and to see Jubi, Gabriele and the gravity jeep standing in front of the lake. I was pretty ready to lay down and die for awhile. Honestly, when I pulled into Martyr's of Democracy long ago, I was thinking about the shame of not being able to finish. 40 miles with 12,000ft of vertical gain ended up taking us about 10.5 hours total with 7.5 hours of actual riding time.

La Cumbre, 15,500 ft

On the way home, both Leith and I commented that we would never put ourselves through that pain again while Cody just smiled and said he could see doing it again. A week later, I think I would like to try it again sometime for sure. I would try to do a few things differently though. Most importantly would be taking a bike that fits better and is more the right tool for the job. I would also make sure I have music from the very beginning. Oh, and maybe train a little bit before hand.

Lets not forget that we did this as a fundraiser and I am proud to say that we raised just over $1000 for the school children of Yolosa and other communities along the World's Most Dangerous Road. Thank you once again to everyone who donated to our cause. Also a shout out of thanks to Gravity Assisted Mounting Biking and Gatorade. I'll make sure to get some pictures up as we get the playground built.

Here's a few more pics from the day to check out:

Ready for Epic

Typical View from the World's Most Dangerous Road

Leith chugging along

It is still early in the day

View from Chusipata

Unduavi Kids

John on one of the final corners

A+ for Effort

Leith and John ready to be done

Leith looking happy

John rolling into La Cumbre

Jubi's a good friend

Charity Ride

First of all, thank you very much to everyone who has donated money to this effort. We have raised much more money than we first expected. Between donations through our website, Facebook, clients on trips and the donation boxes in the offices, we have collected over $1000. In Bolivian terms, that’s over 7000Bs or a whole lot of money.

We have completed the first phase of our donation effort recently. Most Bolivians spend Christmas Eve and Day with their extended families as many of us do in USA also. Because of this, we can't actually do much donating of presents on Christmas day. Instead, this past Saturday, we held a Christmas party in the town of Yolosa and invited all the kids from the lower section of our route. Unfortunately, Leith and I had to work the day of the party, but I was able to enjoy it briefly as our group took a break in Yolosa. The party seemed to be a big success though. A couple days before, two of our office ladies, Paulina and Kayla, used a lot of the donations to buy school supplies and toys for the kids. Then, they made individual packages of a couple notebooks, pencils and pens, sharpeners, erasers, coloring utensils and of course a few toys. At the party all the kids received a package. Zzip The Flying Fox, the zipline company in Yolosa opened up and gave free rides to any of the kids. There was also a clown and many traditional Christmas foods and drink brought by both us and the villagers. Cakes, empanadas, hot chocolate and of course the Christmas classic, Coca-Cola. We also donated all sorts of sports equipment and ball pumps to the local school.

 Before the party though, the other lucky guides who didn't have to work decided to have a bit of fun, by building a dirt jump off the bank and into a deep river swimming hole. While Gabriele's first run didn't look so hot, it looked like everyone was having a ton of fun.

 

We have ended up with a great deal of money and will still be accepting donations until after we complete our challenge. Because of this, we have decided to also build a playground in Yolosa. This playground is something that we can start now and keep adding to in following years. Honestly, this charity ride is sort of an experiment to see how people respond, what we can do for the community and of course, what riding up the World's Most Dangerous Road is actually like. Our ultimate goal is to turn this into an annual event in which many people come out to raise money and take up the challenge of riding up the WMDR in a spirit of community friendship. So far this experience has been a huge success and I think we could definitely turn this into an annual event. In the future though, we are probably going to revolve this ride around Día del Niños (Day of the Children) in April instead of around Christmas time. April tends to have much better weather than December and I think holding the event on Día del Niños would allow more locals to come out in participation. Only a bunch of gringos far from home and thus having nobody to spend Christmas with are able to come out to ride on this special day. There is a pretty solid cycling community in La Paz and I'm sure we can get more people to come out and hopefully more bike companies to jump on the bandwagon to turn this into a big deal every year.

Once again, thank you to everyone who has donated and please spread the word. Also, thank you to everyone at Gravity who helped to make this happen.

If you would like to donate, you can follow this link here: Donate Here.

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to everyone!

Phil

*All photo credits go to my friend and Gravity guide Andy Baker. Keep scrolling down to see more of his photos from the party.

 

 

Scary Santa

 

 

 

 

One of the packages we handed out.

 

 

Cody with the best dead sailor

  

Andy himself, happy he's landing in water.

 

 

 

 

 

Could you even have Christmas with out Coke?