Pell-mell to all´s well

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Fast-forward a few days to La Paz, Bolivia...

Izzy and I had been planning on doing something called the Choro Trek, a 2 or
3 day hike, depending on how energetic one was, through high altiplano,
fording rivers down to jungles and stinging insects...

As you know, we had spent a good deal of time walking round getting supplies
for our Choro trek - mangoes, peanut butter, bread, honey, dried fruit, tent,
tarp, etc... and getting quite excited. To celebrate, we went out to a
Lebanese restaurant whereupon I promptly contracted explosive diarrhea. Nix
those plans.

By morning I had faded to a trickle of water, albeit every 10 minutes, so
there was no chance of going anywhere. We had been planning on doing it in 2
days - 8 hours the first and 10 the second, easily doable, considering it was
just a drop-hike from 4725m to 1200...

So Izzy went and mailed my box of extra crap to Chile, while I sat in the room
and read about the Salar de Uyuni, the salt flats... and wondered how long I
was going to be in my state of affairs. We went for a little walk around town
but I was completely dehydrated and weak. It was a good idea not to go on the
hike... So we decided that we were going to rent bikes and ride The World´s
Most Dangerous Road (guess perhaps why I am telling you this NOW). There is a
little adventure store run by a little Swiss man where we could get bikes for
$10 ( as opposed to going on the Tour for $45 and being pampered)... It took a
long time to get the bikes because, like most ex-pats, this little Swiss man
Hans-Manfred (actually Christian) was a little bit of an odd bird and could
not be rushed in the least. We would ask a question and he would get a far-off
look in his eyes and then start to talk about some pre-occupation he had about
the bikes and he didn´t know if zey vould verk because ze last client he was
not quite so happy and ze brakes and ze mud oh I should sink zat ... and so
on. You can picture him, long curly hair under a baseball cap, very soft-
spoken, he checked out the bikes with his hiking boots splayed out and with a
perfectly straight back and legs.

Finally we got the bikes ...

We woke up at 630, ate breakfast, caught a cab up to the station where mini-
buses left for the pass La Cumbre, at 4730m... We asked various trucks to take
us, but none were going, so we found a bus that would take us up for 10
Bolivianos - $1.25, for the both of us... We climbed up out of La Paz, up to a
waystation where everyone looked chilly, on past olive green mountains with
llama herds and the little girl staring at us from the side of the road... we
got off with three boys from La Paz who had little Chinese bikes and no
helmets. The fog was 20ft visibility and it was COLD. We didn´t bring that
much because we thought Hey, biking all day, we´ll be down from the high parts
in no time, we don´t need fleeces. Wow, wrong. As we descended we came into
the thicker part of the cloud (dodging trucks that were passing each other in
our lane in 10 feet of visibiliity), past a tour-group, and then the mist
turned into a suspended shower and we were instantly soaked. And going 30
mph... I had no gloves, just socks on my hands. It´s the first time I´ve felt
dangerously cold in a long time. But we had no choice, we just kept going down
the road until we got a little out of the fog, then jumped off and ran up and
down and did jumping jacks, then back on the bikes for another little bit
until we warmed up a little... then it was sailing along through the high
mountains - no snow but steep green beautiful andes with a drop down off the
road for thousands of feet to the river. We started seeing more tropical
plants, flowers, and then we got to the section where the paved part ended and
the dirt, single-lane, two-way, no guard-rail road used by trucks and buses
began: Camino de La Muerte. We were now in the sejas de la selva - the
eyebrows of the jungle. The road began dropping steeply down, curving and
winding its way along the side of the valley. Trucks going up had
precedence ... with small pull-outs every so often for the down-traffic to
pull over ... next to a 1200-ft precipe, with the edge crumbling away. For the
really dangerous curves there would be a person with a big flag, with green on
one side and red on the other, to let you know what to do... We had to keep to
the left for the down-traffic to be able to pull over... I was uncomfortable
on the bicycle. You think, oh, it´s not that bad - but 26 minimum vehicles go
over the edge a year... just last week 30 people died when a bus went over.

Down the road through several ecosystems, under waterfalls, past condors
(smaller - not the giant andean one) flying alongside us but a world away,
with every turn showing a beautiful landscape that made you want to sit and
look out on it forever. I think for my next summer job I want to be one of the
flag people on the road...

Finally we came down to the bottom -- at 1200m (the Choro trek follows the
same valley)... We would have had to have climbed up 90 minutes to get to the
town but we were a little pressed for time because we had to get back to La
Paz to catch a bus at 8:30 overnight to Potosi. So we decided to take the road
a little bit and then try and snag whatever vehicle we saw come through
first...

30 minutes later, still going down, we realized that the little girl who told
us where to go for Coroico (the town) really had no idea where it was but
didn´t want to look stupid in front of the gringos. Shit.

Back up to the little town ... see, the reason why we wanted to grab a bus
from Coroico was because they fill up there and then leave. So it would have
been really hard from the bottom. But now - since we had lost so much time, we
just had to grab the first thing. One guy offered to take us up to the town
for 20 bs - about 2.5 dollars, but completely outrageous. Like someone
offering to take you on a 20min ride for $100. So the first thing that came
through was a fruit-truck with an open top.

And this is going to have to be part deux because we´re going to a Cuban place
for dinner ... with original Botero paintings on the walls... a little
upscale, but we´re going to splurge the $5 for dinner.

The truck ride is one of the most amazing experiences yet. Stand by...

I love you guys lots...

Patrick

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