I'm quite accident prone, so cycling down the worlds most dangerous road might not seem like the most sensible idea, but I do like a challenge, and my altitude sickness has got much better, so I couldn't resist. Besides only 13 tourists have been killed since the cycling began, 10 years ago. That averages out at just over one a year, so I rated my chances. Saying that no one has died so far this year! The road, use to be the main highway up to La Paz and in it's time took the lives of 200-300 people a year in car accidents, making it the road with most number of fatalities in the world, hence the name. Luckily the government opened a new, safer road ten years ago, so the old road is just left to crazy backpackers on bikes and a few odd locals in trucks.
We started our 65km journey at 4,690 metres above sea level (which is the same height as Mount Everest's base camp), in thick snow and icy winds. Luckily we were padded up to the nines, but it was still wet and freezing and for the first hour I couldn't feel my feet or my hands, which isn't great for braking! The first 30 minutes were on Tarmac, but then after that, the real challenge begins, as the rest of the journey is on gravel dirt track. I cycle in London, but this was a whole new ball game. The gravel was loose and it was down hill all the way, this equals, very scary indeed. As I nearly go flying off my bike right at the beginning of the gravel, I start to get frightened! I'm cycling down hill in the fog, can't really see what I'm doing, on a road that in parts seems hardly wide enough for bikes never mind cars, knowing that if I make a wrong move it's a 800m sear drop off the edge, and I suddenly think: Carly, you are such an idiot, you have taken it too far this time! Basically, to put it in an uncouf manner: I'm shitting it!
I decided to take it at my own pace and placed myself at the back of the group, and as the flog disappeared and sun came out, I started to feel better with the terrain. This was short lived as I go over a mount, lose control and the next thing I know I'm flat on the floor (but a least it's not over a cliff)! It seems I'm not the only one though. Eva, one of the Danish girls has fallen off in the same spot, but is a lot more hurt than me. She has a swollen hand, elbow and knee and is unable to continue with the ride. I do what, I learnt to do with horse riding, which is get straight back on and get on with it.
Instead of scaring me more, the fall seems to have the reverse effect, and I lose all my nervousness and just go for it. In no time I'm speeding down the mountain at break neck speed, as I realise it's better not to use your brakes too much. In fact I'm really enjoying myself now, the more crazy the incline, the better. Our group (minus Eva), make it to the end, and we are all still alive. Yeah! It's a good feeling. After a descent of 3,450 metres; through 7 microclimates, through rivers, waterfalls and snow, we have made it to the bottom. I can say I survived the worlds most dangerous road, though the next day I did have a very bruised body! You can't have it all though.
OBSERVATIONS
* I can't wait to get to Argentina(they are meant to be taller there), so I don't feel like Godzilla anymore. The people in Peru and Bolivia are total midgets! Most of them only come up to my chest, and I'm not joking!
* Some one really needs to tell the local women in Peru and Bolivia, that they need to wear bra's . They are not flat chested and by the time they are old their breasts are really down to their waists. Not a good luck!
* People in Bolivia don't seem to be able to flush the toilet after themselves. Disgusting!
* Bolivia seems to have the most awful selection of wedding dresses and cakes I have ever seen. Take for example this little number below ( yes! They don't just do White)! Do you think it will suit me?
I like your blog!...Daniel
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