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Published: November 2nd 2010
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64KMs Down
We had booked to ride down The World’s Most Dangerous Road (the Death Road) on Thursday. There was no shortage of choices for booking the trip, with just about every shop front on Sagarnaga advertising it. The standard fee was between B$400-500 all of which seemed to offer pretty much the same thing. We ended up booking with Vertigo Biking, who charged B$550, because all their bikes were Haros with double suspension and they gave all customers a free t-shirt and a disc of photos and videos. Hoping to do it on the Friday, the Boss’s lack of shoes had meant we had to wait until after the weekend but it also meant we got a B$70 discount, so we were happy enough to wait. Vertigo Biking was situated next door to Cactus on Jimenez, so getting up at 8AM all we had to do was choke down some tomato on yesterday’s bread and get in to the van out the front.
Our only stop before the Death Road was at Loki Hostel to pick up some others who would be on our trip. Alex was from London, Daniel was from Canada and Megan was from the States. We
arrived at the Death Road 90 minutes later and were fitted up with our gear - full face motorbike helmets, orange high-vis vests, waterproof pants, knee and elbow pads. We got on our bikes and started the trip down from an altitude of 4200m.
We had an absolutely perfect day. The old cliché of not a cloud in the sky was a very happy truth and made for some spectacular sites and photos. Along with the Boss’s trusty ol’ Cannon, the guides - three Bolivians named Cello, Julio and Chewbacca - had another two cameras to get photos and video. The first hour or so was on a sealed road, which the guides said was technically still a part of the Death Road but I wasn’t content to call it so until we hit the 3 metre wide stretch of winding gravel.
After an hour or so we came to a check point where we had to pay B$25 each to go any further. The road was uphill for the next 8kms, which we weren’t due to ride. But Megan decided that she didn’t want to sit it out. “Can I ride it?” She asked Cello.
“You don’t want to,”
The Boss and I
At the start of the ride he replied.
“Yeah I do.”
“No you don’t.”
“Yeah, I do.”
“Really?”
He mounted up and the two of them took off. The other guides put the bikes on to the van roofs and 10 minutes later we were off. We caught up with Megan and Cello within five minutes and ten later we arrived at the start of the Death Road which was also our lunch destination. Two sandwiches later, Megan and Cello arrived.
“Well, that was a mistake,” she said with a laugh.
Before setting off down the gravel road with a running tally of 18 cyclist deaths since 1998, we were given a brief rundown of the safety protocols. Vertigo were always the last group to go down the road so that there wouldn’t be a group behind them, forcing them to make a pace. Secondly, they always stuck to the track that was closest to the side of the mountain, rather than the drop. Finally, and this was a rule for all traffic on the Death Road, you stick to the left hand side of the road. I thought this final rule was particularly odd - it’s the most dangerous road in the world and they
decide that’s the time to confuse people about which side of the road to drive on. Tahlei explained it to me the following week - it’s so that the driver is closest to the edge and therefore able to gauge easier how much room they have.
The road was some of the most fun I’ve had on a mountain bike. You were able to pick up a fair bit of speed but you always had to be vigilant on the brakes because some of the bends are sheer drops that you wouldn’t come back up from (which you would never guess based on the various nicknames the road is given). I had a couple of close calls, skidding out around bends but nothing that had me needing to change my pants. I did lose it a little on the mountain side of the road and ended up needing to change my socks but if that was the worst experience of the day then I think we did alright.
We had a number of times where we stopped to pose for photos. I’ve never really been in to the whole posing thing and so my photos leave a little to be
desired on the dramatic side but I like to think that they add a little variety. Chewbacca and Julio did the majority of the photography and one of them took to the motif of shooting through a wheel - stationary for photos and a moving one for videos. Marks for effort but I think it would have worked out better if they’d just done what those kind of cameras are good for - pointing and shooting, not art.
The Death Road was a good two or so hours of riding and finished in a small town which seemed to have an economy based solely on the road. Upon completing the trip we loaded the bikes on to the vans and headed to a nearby hotel where showers, a swim and lunch were to be provided. The pool at the hotel was big and actually had a small pool down a small hill with a water slide (of sorts) connecting the two of them. What it was lacking however was chlorine. You could write your name in the grime on the bottom of the pool but after a hot day in the saddle I was glad to just jump in and
cool off. Lunch was a smorgasbord of meat, rice, salad and some select veggies and, with a bottle of Pacena, was a pretty good end to the day. The only real negative of the hotel was getting a fresh set of sand fly bites but, having not had a good scratch since Machu Picchu, I wasn’t too worried about them.
The drive back to La Paz was a direct back-tracking of the route we had taken to get to the end of the death road - meaning that we had to drive back up it. Re-living it from a van was probably a little scarier than riding down it due to the lack of self-control but it allowed us some good opportunities to appreciate some of the spectacular scenery that we had been going too fast to take notice of on the way down. After making it back on to the sealed road it was a fairly straight forward drive back in to La Paz, which the Boss made more interesting by playing a game of “Would you for a million dollars” with the others in the car. For some reason bestiality was a fairly common factor in the quest
for a million bucks, particularly the canine variety. I put on my iPod and tried to stay out of it.
Plans were made to meet up with the guys from the Loki that night and have a few drinks but after getting back to our hostel and showering, the prospect of going any further afield than Sagarnaga for dinner was too much effort. We ended up at a little cafe called “Sol y Luna” on Murillo, where my Indonesian chicken was delicious but a little small whilst the Boss couldn’t finish her goulash, so I guess it all worked out.
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