The World's Most Dangerous Road

An early vista from the altiplano.  What you can't see from this picture is the carcass of a minibus whose driver fell asleep, sending the vehicle and its passengers shooting over a 400-some meter cliff.

On Monday, Jenni and I mountain biked down the World's Most Dangerous Road (also known as the WMDR or the Death Road), classified as such due to the average of 26 vehicles yearly that flew over the its cliffs until a new replacement road was built in 2007.  It's a 64 km ride that makes you 3,600 meters down, from a starting height of 4,700 meters above sea level to an ending height of 1,200 meters, from the high mountains around La Paz to the middle of the jungle.  I won't be able to walk properly for days, but it was incredible. 

Looking hot in our vests.

We started at what's known as The Cumbre (the summit), next to a lake surrounded by snow-capped peaks.  In the bus all of my layers - shorts, sweatpants, wind pants, two shirts, a fleece, a windproof jacket, a bright orange vest and biking gloves - had seemed totally unnecessary, but as soon as we started down the road (which was paved for the first 20-some kilometers), the wind found the cracks in my armor, and it was bitterly cold.

It was also gorgeous, and, frankly, terrifying.  The paved road wasn't so bad, other than a dew potholes and the 500-meter drop to the left.  But the second we left the pavement, things got gnarly.

Our guide pointed at a tunnel right in front of us.

"We're not going through there," he said.  "A couple of years ago a French girl wrecked herself in it.  She reached up to adjust her glasses, hit a wall and was in a coma for three weeks."

Instead, we took a loose gravel path around the tunnel.  I managed it fine by keeping up my speed over the rocks, but missed the ramp back up on the other end.  I braked in panic before I hit the curb, spun out, and ate shit, landing on my knee, which is now an unlovely brownish color.  Embarrassingly or blessedly, it was our group's only wipeout of the day.

The actual Death Road.  As you can see, it's extremely narrow, with a pretty unforgiving cliff off to the right.  You can't so much see what terrible condition the road is in, but trust me.

The WMDR itself was actually easier, thanks in no small part to my having learned the limits of my braking ability on pebbly gravel.  It was also incredibly beautiful.  Almost as soon as we hit the dirt, it started getting warmer, and the layers came off one by one, until we were riding through air thick with dust and jungle humidity.  Somewhere along the halfway mark, a small white butterfly started keeping pace with me, resting briefly on my handlebars.

A capuchin monkey tipping over his water bowl.

We ended up at an animal reserve called La Senda Verde in the jungle outside a town called Yolosa.  The reserve takes in animals rescued from the black market, including dozens of birds, hundreds of turtles, a caiman, a spectacled bear, and upwards of 40 monkeys that climb all over you and try to pick your pockets.  It was a great place to unwind after the tour.  Jenni and I stayed overnight in a little cabin and spent hours the next day letting the monkeys pretend we were trees.

A rescued coati.

My knee is turning funny colors, and I'm absolutely covered with sand-fly bites (according to the Wikipedia page: "Sand-fly bites are frequently several times as itchy as mosquito bites, and tend to last longer as well.")  But it was totally worth it.  Armed this time with lots of DEET (which you can't wear around the animals at the reserve, since it poisons them) I'm going back to the jungle today.