Highway To The Danger Zone

Back in La Paz, we decided to skip the organised madness of Adventure Brew for a decent hostal for the same price in the steep lanes behind San Fransisco church.

We were preparing for one of the most anticipated parts of the trip so far (by me at least): "The World's Most Dangerous Road".

Seeing your first 600m sheer drop really does focus the mind

Bom-bom, bom-bom... according the the stats for the IMF (why them I don't know), it is officially the world's most hazardous stretch of road, topped by the death of 118 people in a coach that plunged off the edge coming back from a football match in 1983. Yet again, only a statistic the Bolivians could have created.

So with all this and the usual traveller tales ('it's easy', 'it's horrible', 'do it', 'don't do it') floating around, we signed up with the original, most reputable and most expensive company doing it, Gravity Assisted (they of Adventure Brew, Saya beer and RamJam fame also).

After postponing it a day to get my sickness sorted, we turned up half-asleep to the cafe meeting place at 7am, along with what seemed like half the people from hostels across La Paz. There were five ex-Japanese schoolbuses (no, really) worth of willing gringos ready to ride the road that day. And that's let alone the few other copycat companies that also offer the ride.

So off we went to the start point at La Cumbre (4,700m), even higher than La Paz, and got the first of many safety briefings before pulling on a wardrobe full of waterproofs, helmets, goggles and Buffs. Eventually we set off on our full suspension Kona bikes gingerely five seconds apart - FIVE SECONDS APART PEOPLE! - down the tarmac'd section of the road still used by all traffic.

After a while, the guide encouraged those of us who wanted to get up some speed, and I didn't need to be told twice. Tucking down and behind, I managed to get up some great lick on the smooth surface, with only the very occasional belching truck or bus creeping along to worry about.

After a hour or so of freewheeling through the mountain air (the bikes' gear ratios are "adjusted" so that at any sort of speed you can't pedal faster), we turned off onto the older gravel section of the road not much used by traffic anymore because of the a new, faster link, and onto the WMDR proper.

The first time you see a drop proper, it really does focus the mind. The edge of the road just sort of crumbles away to sheer faces of around 600m. If you fall off there, you will die.

But we had plenty of safety training and advice about upcoming sections ("watch out for this", or "you can hammer this one nicely"). And with virtually all traffic using the new road (unlike when the tour was started 10 years ago), the ride has changed from a slow descent into more of a speed thrill. After the very top, the road widens quite a bit, enough to get confident and start throwing up some dust as you sweep round corners.  Marloes, meanwhile, did an excellent job of looking after the back of the pack.

And then suddenly you descend from fresh mountain breeze to hot, humid, still in less than 10 seconds, like that hit of humidity when you step off the plane in Lanzarote. Then its hot, dusty and tropical all the rest of the way, and you arrive in Coroico 64km later, hot sweaty and wanting to do it all again.

There was a pasta buffet and a cold beer each waiting for us at the bottom, along with a warm shower to get off the dust. And then it was back into the Japanese schoolbus for the three hour jounrey back over the top of the valley to La Paz.

[Not many photos here of the actual ride here you'll notice, bit tricky at 60km/h!]

Now normally, this is where the story would end. Food, a beer and bed. But unknown to us, we'd just taken part in Gravity's 10th anniversary ride, which got us a free ticket to their birthday party after at their club, JamJam.  Knackered, we thought it was probably some clever move to get us into the club and give them even more money, but we decided to pop along for one drink and see. How wrong we were.

It was a fancy dress bash (we obviously didn't have the time to get an outfit together!), with women in leather catsuits and men in no a lot dishing out free beers, rums and cocktails, as well as glass platters of sushi and snacks going around. As 10th anniversary riders, we also got a free gift, which much to our surprise was not a sticker or a key fob but a Gravity racing jersey and courier bag. The drinks kept coming, and then the band came on upstairs and everybody on the dancefloor below watching through the open rafters as they hammered out a cracking set of rock anthems.

We left before the firework display outside at 1am, but apparently it was more in the street than above it and set off car alarms for a block in every direction. A cracking end to a cracking day. Again, again!