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Published: June 28th 2006
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My bike...
...being repaired after burst tyre. Well, that definitely ranks as the most unbelievably, incredibly, ridiculously, stupefyingly, mind-numbingly brain-dead idiotic thing I´ve ever done in my life. And I´m sure I´ve done some pretty stoopid things before now.
The Death Road. The world´s most dangerous road. Whatever you want to call it, it kind of suggests "Stay Away". However, there are numerous companies offering silly gringos the opportunity to throw themselves down it on a mountain bike for sh!ts and giggles.
So, having met a nice young girl a few weeks in Peru, who´d done said activity with THE most well known and reputable company, fallen 30 metres down a cliff, scraped up all one arm and shoulder, and been unconscious for 2 days, you might be tempted to think "Stay Away". Hmmm.
Somehow, instead, we thought "Let´s save $20 dollars by going with the company run out of our hostal". Genii the lot of us.
So, we get to the start of our road, 4700m above sea level at El Cumbre. We test out our bikes. Brakes seem to require a lott of effort to make anything happen. "Grease, cold, blah, blah, blah... they´ll get better..."
So we head off, on
Death road...
...through a break in the clouds. a nice tarmac section. Get up to some pretty awesome speeds, overtaking trucks and buses, really enjoying it. "I´m so glad I decided to do this", thinks our intrepid hero.
at the end of this section, about an hour and a half, is a 6km uphill section. Onto the bus for me, I came here to down-hill. Off go those foolish enough to cycle, while the driver stops for breakfast. 15 mins later, we catch up with Neil, whose pedal has fallen off. OK....
So now we start the death road proper, miles and miles of twisting turning gravel track with vertical cliff face rising on one side and vertical drop falling away on the other. We´d managed to come on a cloudy drizzly day, so we couldn´t actually see just how far the drop is, but we don´t get much chance to see the spectacular scenery either. And the road is all muddy and slippery.
Anyway, my brakes still aren´t working, and eventually one guide swaps with me to shut up my complaining. Definite improvement, but still a lot of effort invovled to stop the damn thing.
So, we keep heading down, when Megans sprcket
Gail...
...with first hold-up breaks. So now she can´t peddle. Ah, no matter, we´re going downwards anyway.
So, the longer we go, the more confident everyone is, and the faster we go, espeially if the road opens out and straightens a little. Then Neil hits a big rock going into a corner, wheels come out from under him, and he slides accross the corner and into a ditch before the cliff. Lucky the corner wasn´t in the other direction. And I got a ringside seat!
Off we go again, barrelling down the mountain, when suddenly my bike feels strange. My brakes have gone absurdly bad, and the steering ain´t up to much either. Oh look, my front tyre has burst! And I´m approaching a corner with a big drop by the side. Oh look, here cames a MASSIVE truck round the corner. Well somehow I manage not to ride into the front of the big truck, squeeze past it into the lay-by on the corner and stop before going the edge (basically by cycling into a rather surprised guide). More luck then judgement, but I survived my moment!
Continue considerably slower, especially as the road is getting really bumpy, and with all the hard braking my hands are destroyed. At times I can barely hold onto the handlebars at all.
Eventually we get to the end, 64km and four hours from the start at an altitude of 1100m having started at 4700m.
I have to say, I thoroughly enjoyed it. We ate lunch, and everyone felt great. Then we had to go back up. Grrr. The most terrifying experience of my entire life.
Crammed into our old rattling sardine can of a minibus we headed up the death road. In most places only just wide enough for one vehicle, with passing at occasional passing points, it wasn´t long before we came accross our first traffic jam, caused by a stand-off between two huge trucks. Eventually the jam cleared and we were off again. A few jams later and it was dark. The next jam was not a truck stand-off thoug. It was a land-slide. Giant rock in middle of road kinda thing. Everyone getting out to help move it. Eventually it was cleared. SOme of us decided to leg it past the landslide area, and get back on the bus afterwards.
Of we go again. Oh, another jam. This time a big truck lying at 45° in a ditch.
Despite the absurd availability of certain drugs in this part of the world, I´ve not once even been tempted to try anything. However, at this point, if the opportunity had arisen, I without hesitation would have shoved the entire yearly coke output of Bolivia up both nostrils and any other vacant orifice I could find.
We continued like this for a good few hours, when suddenly there was a huge cheer as we reached tarmac.
Well, I hope you´ve all enjoyed reading, and that at least one of you has fallen out of your chair laughing (yeah, you know who I´m talking at).
But on a serious point, would I recommend this to other travellers? The bike ride was incredible. But this is known as the world´s most dangerous raod for a reason. It´s the world´s most dangerous road. And by the end I felt slightly disrespectful to the many who´ve died falling over it´s edge, paying to cycle down in the name of fun.
Think on Travelchums.
(P.S. In response to P Mac´s comment, the girl we met who went over the cliff went with Gravity Assisted, and the van that the huge rock fell just in front of was also Gravity Assisted. Safe is a very relative term on this road.)
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Michelle
non-member comment
Death Road
now that i've picked myself up from the floor and dried my eyes and read your blog again, this time without creasing up! you do get yourself into some tricky situations my friend! Love Michelle XX