Death Road - El Camino de la Muerte
On May 11, 2013, after almost three years in country, it would finally be my turn to ride down the notorious death road, a 60 km downhill ride that would start in La Cumbre and eventually end in Coroico. My time is running out Bolivia, so I will have to make every free day count.
Back in a July 2011 post, I already described the death road, its purpose, and how it’s been primarily supplanted by a new and improved, paved road that is a safer option for vehicles. What hasn’t changed about the old road are its cliffs dropping off to one side, some of them as high as a thousand feet. It is safe to say that you would like to keep your hands on the wheel or handle bars, no matter which way you decide to travel. Failing to do so will most likely assure that your loved ones may never find you again and that you might rest in peace where you landed. Thousands of people before us have learned this lesson the hard way on the death road, most people victims of car accidents. The new paved death road to Coroico was built with one thing in mind: to limit accidents and provide a safer alternative for passengers who need to travel from La Paz.
Of course, the new road isn't nearly as fun for people seeking adventures, chief among them mountain bike riders who will prefer dirt over tar.
Our tour starts at a familiar place—La Cumbre, over 4,600 meters above sea level, and a cold place at any time of the day. So the group—about 20 of us, among them numerous colleagues—venture out on a rickety bus, sign the forms declaring we will not hold the touring group responsible should we go over the cliff, etc. There is nervous laughter among the participants, although the tour guide, a New Zealander, proclaims that he has taken over 20,000 people down the death road and not lost one of them…the worst that has ever happened was a heart attack. Okay, then.
We are issued our equipment: a deluxe bike, a fully padded two piece suit (against the cold, but also to protect your skin, should you unexpectedly fall off your bike), a helmet, gloves, and a face scarf to protect against the dust that will be kicked up by over 20 bike riders on Death Road. We are given a few minutes to test our bike before we finally circle up and listen to last minute instructions from our guide.
He explains the basics, how to sit/how not to sit, using the breaks, keeping a safe distance between riders, etc. Sitting on the bike correctly is absolutely crucial so as to avoid ‘the night spent in prison’ symptoms, meaning a sore tail that will hurt for days.
We apply plenty of suntan lotion and will apply more the further down we go. We are told that we will start at over 15,000 feet and end at just a tad above 5,000. In other words, we are expected to lose plenty of layers the further down we go. Right now, that seems unfathomable. It is the morning and bitter cold in La Cumbre, and the pack can’t wait to get going in order to shake some of the icicles that have parked on our skin.
The company is called ‘Gravity Assisted Mountain Biking’, and it will soon become clear to us why they have chosen the name. We are off and running, the wind rushing into our faces, as we commence the descent of Death Road.
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