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The overnight train journey took us to a city a few hours bus ride away from La Paz. The busstle of a city and the absence of spectacular landscape was a world away from the Salar. It was strange to think how a relatively short train ride could change things so dramatically. As the bus neared the city, snow capped andean peaks poulated the skyline at regular intervals. These are some of the highest mountians in the Andes and the provided a spectacular backdrop to the city. The road in to La Paz is actually higher than the city, winding down a hillside, the view of the city below is stunning. We finally arrived into La Paz early afternoon. On first appearances it looked like a typical South American metropolis. It took a while to check into the hotel and after this we went straight out to lunch. Unfortunately we would only have 1 full day in La Paz, and as we were intending to take a mountain biking excursion through the nearby Yungas Valley, we would only really have that afternoon to explore the city. On the way back from lunch we passed through the witches market. Some interesting options were llama fetus, various potions, stuffed animals, ready made sacrifice consisting of a smorgusboard of items, shurnken heads (I think imitation) and a myriad of other oddities. I say oddities because obviously coming from a Western culture that is how we would perceive them, but witchcraft is widely practiced in the Andes and Bolivia, people do believe in it, and the thriving market proved this. After this, our next task was to book onto mountain biking for the next day. We were intending to bike the infamous death road, and so we wanted to do it with the best company possible. After consulting our guidebooks we headed to the offices of Gravity Assisted Mountain Biking, widely regarded as the best company for the trip, they were the pioneers of the very first trip and their experience is unrivalled. After asking various questions and hearing their reassurances about their safety record (Having taken thousands of people throughout their history and having only experienced one fatalitiy, a couple of weeks prior to us) we put pen to paper.
We awoke early the next morning, and headed to a cafe near the office which was to be our meeting point. After some breakfast we boarded a van and drove an hour and a bit to the start point of the trip. The Death Road, winds its way through the Yungas Valley, descending from an altitude of 5,000m to 1,100 metres, over 65km of road which would take about 5hours of riding. The road was statistically declared the most dangerous due to the number of fatalities that used to occur on it. A new road has recently open meaning there is now very little traffic on the original road. However when it was at its height of use, there were on average between 300 and 400 fatalaties a year, mostly buses with multiple passengers going over the edge. We were given our bikes (2,500dollars worth) on a flat section beside the lake. We spent a few minutes familliarising ourselves with them and then returned for the first of many safety briefings. The first hour and about a third of the total trip, would be a very fast downhill section on a fairly wide ashphalt road. This road was still in use and so would have some traffic passing. The ashphalt descent would be split into about 6 seperate descents, before each of which we would stop for a briefing. There was a guide at the front and back and a support vehicle. Riding from the lakeside onto the ashphalt to begin the ride was an electrifying feeling. Whilst in reality it is safer than you would imagine, the element of danger and all the stories relating to the road, gave it an extra edge. Being tarmac, it was a fantastic opportunity to get used to the bike at speed, and the first few sections were spent getting used to the handling of the bikes. They were fantastic bikes, with offroad wheels, disc brakes and front and rear suspension. As we continued down the road, the extent of the scenery began to unravel itself. Above the clouds, we were parallel with the peaks of some phenomenally impressive mountains. We had to demount our bikes briefly and walk them through a drugs checkpoint (the Yungas are one of Bolivias most productive coca growing regions), before getting back on and passing around a tunnel for our first experience of offroad riding. Rejoining the tarmac we went through a fantastic series of bends, that flowed into one another for a good few minutes. The suddenly we broke through the clouds. There was an uphill section that due to the altitude some of us sat out on the van. Driving along and looking out the window, it was no different to a plane as it descends or ascends through the cloudline. It was amazing as the mountains continually disappeared and then revealed themelves. The tarmac section of the road wasn`t part of the official death road. This began after the brief uphill section. We took our bikes off the van and sat down for a briefing. It was immediately apparent that this briefing was far more serious, the tone of our Kiwi guide had changed quite dramatically. The lesson was simple, ride sensibly and you will be safe, but ride like an idiot, fall off, and there is a probability you will die, with some of the drop offs over 300ms. The main problem they experience with male riders is apparetnly testosterone exceeding abilitiy. For females it is riding to slowly off road and falling off. Sitting listening to the briefing, certainly got the nerves going. The road is often no wider than a bus, with the edges sheer drops. It is no wonder buses went over the edge so frequently. We began with a fairly short section of downhill. Getting use to the offroad surface took a while but I eventually got the hang of it. The most important part of my bike was the breaks. My hands stayed glued to them for then entire six hours, squeezing them harder and harder as and when required. The sheer drops were veiled for the first few sections by the thick cloud that hung in the valley below them. As we descended furhter the vegetation became lusher, the temperature increased, and we began shedding the layers that had been necessary for the first phase. After about an hour and half of fantastic riding we stopped for a brief snack. It was a fantastic spot with a view of the road winding into the distance. We were told that the next two sections of the road were notoroiusly the most dangerous for cyclists. The first involved passing underneath a waterfall and then tackling a section known as collarbone corners. With wet wheels and tight bends, slipping off on a corner was a dangerous and painfull reality. Luckily we passed this without event and simply took in more and more of the stunning scenery as we descended. We approached postcard corner, the photo of cyclers turning a corner that is on all the promotional material. It is a very narrow track which bends right, leaving a stunning dropp off into deep valley clad with thick rainforest. We continued passing various other hazards like landslides. Every so often you would pass a cross that represented a loss of life over the edge. We were told two terrible stories of cyclist fatalities. One French girl, got off her bike on the wrong side (you are always supposed to demount with your bike between you and the cliff) to let a car pass, thinking it needed more room, she stepped back onto a patch of grass that simply overhung the cliff face, and she plunged to her death. Another story involved an Israeli girl who complained about her breaks not working properly. She was the last one down and as everyone else was stopping for lunch she simply continued over the edge. These provided a sombre reminder about the seriousness of what we were doing and about the risks involved, however it also allowed me to keep my concentration better, knowning the consequences of not doing so. As the day drew on, we left some of the most dangerous stretches behind us. Winding into the valley towards where we would finish, the climate became tropical and we were effectively in the rainforest. We passed below this, crossing through a shallow river on our bikes, and then enjoyed the last couple of sections. Exhausted we road into the lodge where we would finish the ride. Demounting our bikes we had a couple of group photos and then went for some food, showers and relaxation. The lodge was also an animal sanctuary, and it was a surreal way to end another fantastic and unforgettable day, with howler monkeys and chimps swinging from the trees.
The journey back would take about 3 hours, and we would drive back up the same road we had just come down. It was getting dark, and knowing the width of road, I was slightly concerned, but we had an excellent driver. We stopped a couple more times for photos and viewed some of the wreckages of cars and buses that had fallen victim to the road. We also passed a very out of place house. It was actually built by a leading Nazi who fled Germany after WW2, and lived in the mountains for a while, before being captured by Mossad and put on trial in Israel. That was my dose of history. Driving up again through the cloudline with the dark shadows of the spectacular mountains looming above, some buzzed with excitement and accomplishment whilst others slept. We had conquered the death road successfully, survining, and having an unbeleivable day. The lights of La Paz twinkled below as we approached the city, and even the rush hour traffic couldn`t bring us down.
That night was officially the last day of the Rio to La Paz tour. We would be saying goodbye to some great friends and also our tour leader (She had been a very interesting character). We hit the town for a farewell celebration and didn`t return until the early hours of the morning. Not that sensible considering we had to leave the hotel at 5am and head towards Peru, but hey, you live and learn!
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