Bolivia has been on my list for quite some time. From Chicago, round-trip airfare consistently costs over $1,000 USD – not affordable for a long weekend trip. I had been saving up miles through the Oneworld airline alliance in order to take my grandmother to Australia. I finally booked our flights, and surprisingly had just enough miles left over for a round-trip flight to La Paz.
Bolivia is one of the five countries in South America that requires American passport holders to obtain a visa prior to arrival. In case you are wondering, the other four countries that require visas for American tourists are Brazil, Paraguay, Suriname, and Venezuela. Unfortunately, visas on arrival to Bolivia are no longer issued – so make sure to pay the hefty $160 USD embassy fee and apply at least two weeks before traveling.
Death Road
I first heard of Yungas Road (better known as Death Road) many years ago while watching a documentary about the world’s most dangerous roads. Connecting La Paz to the Amazon rainforest, the road once claimed the lives of 300 people a year – holding the title for the world’s most dangerous road.
The road first ascends to around 4,700 meters (or about 15,400 feet) at La Cumbre Pass, before descending to around 1,200 meters (or about 3,900 feet) at the town of Coroico. The unpaved, two-way road measures the width of a single vehicle, has few guard rails and cliffs of up to about 600 meters (or approximately 2,000 feet). Death Road, now closed to vehicles, has become a major tourist attraction for adrenaline junkies worldwide. Catering to the demand, many tour operators offer mountain biking excursions with guaranteed departures every day.
I only had one day in La Paz before I had to leave for Uyuni [see post: Incredible Bolivia: Salar de Uyuni from La Paz]. At the time, I did not know where in Bolivia Death Road was located. Nor did I ever expect to actually visit the road. While researching things to do in the area, I learned of the proximity of the road to La Paz. Although there were cheaper options, I booked with Gravity Bolivia solely based on the day trip’s earlier return time. My bus to Uyuni was leaving later that night and I needed to be in La Paz before the other tours were scheduled to end. The company offered a promising experience. For $108 USD, services include round-trip hotel transfers, a specialized bike, full face helmet, gloves, jacket, pants, elbow and knee pads, all the water you want, three snacks, pictures and videos of your ride, a souvenir t-shirt, and a place where you can enjoy a pool, hot showers, and buffet after biking. Sold.
Arriving in La Paz, “I” turned into “we”. My flight landed a few minutes before 6:00 in the morning on Friday, May 26, 2017. Apparently, my travels have been brewing curiosity at work; traveling with me was suddenly in demand. I was meeting my coworker Nigel who had arrived a few hours before me. We had an ambitious, jam-packed itinerary that commenced the moment we stepped out of the airport.
Biking the World’s Most Dangerous Road
We arrived at Cotapata National Park early that morning after leaving straight from the airport in La Paz – the highest capital city in the world.
Given the high altitude, time to acclimate is highly recommended. Coming straight from the airport, I only had prescription pills for altitude sickness to rely on. I do not do well in high altitude and was very worried about exhausting myself mountain biking. The last time I went biking in high altitude, I did not make it down on the bike [see post: Hiking Cotopaxi and Two Days in Ecuador]. However, the altitude was the least of my concerns. The Internet houses countless articles about the dangers and lives lost on Death Road. I was nervous. And, rightfully so. One mistake. That is all it takes. One mistake can cost you your life.
We shared a light breakfast and suited up in silence.
Everyone seemed nervous. After all, none of us really knew what to expect. The first stretch of road was paved. As we descended in elevation, the weather quickly changed from cool Altiplano terrain to rainforest.
Half an hour in, we arrived at a tunnel. The test run was over.
The rickety minibus raced its tiny engine up the tough mountain grade with its full load of weary travelers, bikes, and equipment.
A blanket of fog covered the scenery. After the safety briefing, we began the 55 kilometer (or about 34 mile) downhill ride.
We passed towering mountains. They stood like giants obstructed by clouds. Their features cracked with massive boulders and sporadic waterfalls.
With each turn, my hands squeezed the brakes harder. The climate continued to change – from frigid and cold into humid and wet. Rain and fog severely hampered visibility, while water runoff turned the road into a muddy track. My hands squeezed harder.
The cloud forest hid the magnitude of the cliffs below. The depth of the valley was left to imagination. I tried to keep my front tire away from the unguarded edge. Covered by fog, the landscape turned into an eerie abyss. Mother Nature was not on our side.
Halfway down, my confidence started to build. I slowly regained feeling in my hands as I loosened my grip on the brakes. I felt myself moving faster, swerving around the rocks that filled the road. The lush vegetation enveloped my peripheral vision. But, I could not bask in the beauty. My eyes were glued to the ground. The rocks were getting bigger and bigger. My hands forcefully gripped the brakes. I felt time stop. My body ejected off the seat and tumbled over the handlebars. The back of my head slammed into the rugged ground, and my body rolled until I landed sideways on an edge of a rock. Screaming in pain, tears filled my eyes. I could not move. The pain was overwhelming. Far ahead of everyone, I was completely alone. I glanced over, and realized that I was not falling hundreds of meters to my death. The fall replayed in slow motion as I tried to find the strength to get myself up. Sharp pains stabbed the entire right side of my body – from my upper thigh to my shoulder. I patted myself down, and thanked my helmet and elbow pads for saving my body from broken bones. Death was testing me, but it was not my time to go. With adrenaline rushing through my veins, I mounted the bike and continued down the road.
As I descended lower, the rain disappeared into the jungle behind me. With each turn, the road widened and dirt started to cover the rock surface. I loosened my grip on the brakes, and allowed myself to move a little faster to catch up to the group.
As the elevation continued to fall, the blanket of fog lifted to expose the beautiful scenery.
Awestruck, we stopped for a quick snack before continuing down the final kilometers.
If you ever find yourself in La Paz, take a one day trip to Yungas Road – you will not regret it. Unless you fall off the side of a cliff.
