A Pleasant Ride Down the Death Road

It started high in the snowy Andes mountains at 14,000 ft. with the ceremonial sprinkling of grain alcohol on your bike and into your mouth and ended 10,000 ft lower in the dense, humid forrest jungle of the Yungas Valley. The route between is considered the world's most dangerous road or "the death road" because of the hundreds of unlucky motorists who have made the sometimes 1,800 ft plunge to the bottom. Since the recent completion of a less dangerous road linking the two areas, the traffic on the death road has descreased but the 10 year old activity of mountain biking down the road has remained.

Not wanting to cut corners on what could potentially be a trip ending experience, myself and some travel mates went with the reputable but pricey company Gravity Assisted Biking, which was showcased not long ago by ABC´s Nightline (http://abcnews.go.com/Video/playerIndex?id=413924). Coincidentally, our ride down was partially filmed by another cameraman gathering material for ABC's broadcast of the story in New Zealand. With my cinematic chemistry it is safe to say I will have some serious fans on the otherside of the world as soon as that airs.

Half expecting the ride to fall into the category of an over-hyped adventure travel activity, I was excited to find out the experience lived up to the reputation and a little more. With guardrails practically non-existent, the steeped road is unforgiving for the reckless and second chances for even the cautious are not a guarantee. Scared sh·tless is probably how I would describe myself the first 15 minutes when the guide's repetitive safety talk was reinforced with a quick introductory ride around a couple precipiced corners in very dense fog. This sort of riding continued for the next couple hours and the succession of scenery was amazing. However, I was only half-observing this phenomenon as I was concentrating on the road with freakish focus. I don´t think I have had that type of mental focus since I played an intense game of paper, rock, scissors in college that decided who had to drive a boozy crew all the way to Chicago (I won).

After riding through the freezing snow, we spent a good deal of time in the misty fog that blanketing the valley. Towards the end of the ride the fog lifted and the true perception of what we riding around in was realized. It was stunning, thrilling, and scary. Our guides were good and we had no show-offs amoung us, which resulted in no serious problems and only the ego injury of a girl who flipped over her handlebars, amazingly unhurt. The real amazement came from the notion that these type of activities are allowed to the masses--gotta love third-world tourism.

Today, I sit in anticipation of the full cancellation of my already delayed flight to the Bolivian Amazon area of Rurrenbaque. I have a spot reserved on a 12 seater that is supposed to provide spectacular views of the Andes. I watched clips of the movie ALIVE today on YouTube to prepare myself for any possible dietary changes this trip could produce.

I'm delayed til later but the lady at the tour agency told me that I "will for sure be going today." I have as much faith in her statement as I do with the several dozen other half-truths I have heard since being in Bolivia. I´ll give it until tomorrow afternoon until I´ll give up and head up north.

Don´t lie me,

Brian