We all met up at Alexander's cafe on La Paz's Main Street. A muffin and empanada later and we piled into the minibus and heading out of La Paz. On the city outskirts there's a checkpoint lined with opportunists stalls seemingly specialised in deep fried chicken pieces. The stray dogs theme of South America also continued.
Only about 45 minute transfer to our start. At about 4,200 meters in the mountains it's not unusual for it to be snowing, but we only had cloud and mist. So much, I thought we were standing at the ends of a cliff, but we were next to a lake! Cycle overalls, gloves, helmets and goggles were divided out on route, so we hurriedly got dressed - don't know why they bothered asking for sizes for tops and trousers as mine were more suited to a 12 year old bmx racer - I'd have to improvise with this thigh high crotch.
Our young American guide, Dave, gave the briefing and then brought the 96 percent proof alcohol for an offering to Pacha mama (a drop on the soil and the bike tyre) and then a sip for courage.
The first section is on a tarred road for about 20 Km's for a downhill blitz. You could only peddle for he first 50 meters before you were going too fast to have any traction trying to peddle. We'd easily pass trucks and cars would easily pass us, so it was a constant leap frog down. Good thing we had skiing gloves as it was freezing!
A Bolivian drug checkpoint came up, but we got waved through. Much of the world's cocaine comes from Bolivia - supplying it is big business and farmers apparently get more from coca leaves per sq meter than any other product.
Back on the road and a vote was put to the group to cycle up a 8 km section on load the bikes on the minibus. The not used to cycling uphill in this altitude option was chosen and we had drinks and snacks while the bus climbed the hills. None were particularly big, but altitude would have been the killer.
Now for the start, at La Cumbre, of the gravel Death Road. Already having descended 1,000 meters it was much warmer. I stripped off some layers and Dave gave another briefing. Babies heads! Never heard of them before, but they are loose rocks the size of a babies' head on the road around waterfalls or rock falls. If you touch tour break while you go over them, it's a shute thing you'll get thrown - either avoid them or cycle straight over them with no breaks. Death Road is so the only road in Bolivia where you drive on the left. With the left hand drive vehicles, drivers can see how close to the edge they are if driving on the left rather than right - cycling, we'd follow the same rules.
We headed down, one guide in front for the faster group, pushing limits, and the guide at the back for the slowest rider. I'd do most of the leading for the boys and Mands just on the boys tails and leaving the slower riders in her dust - Wales single track rides are paying off!
The ride was brilliant, sheer drops at some points, waterfalls across the roads, 90 degree and 180 degree turns and sections with so many baby heads it seemed we were in a maternity ward!
Some way down there was a checkpoint and we waited for the group to catch up. Stripping down with the heat of the day and much lower altitude, we hit a new problem, sand flies. These smaller then mosquito bugs, are relentless on attack and attack they did. I kept moving like an early morning workout with my midge experiences, but others less aware of the ways of the wild were eaten like Spur's Sunday eat all you can ribs and chicken wings special. These critters are worse than Mosquitos and leave a hole with blood and an itch that stays with you for the next few days.
Back on he track for the final sections of Death Road (it's difficult to say that without putting on a deep theatrical voice) and the finish of our 2 km descent. We finished in a small village, Cocoico, and were "welcomed" with a bucket of water being thrown by one of the village kids.
For lunch we headed to an animal sanctuary a couple of minutes away. We dipped in the clear water that was flowing too strongly to swim after the rain and then showers. Macaws, monkeys, African guinnea fowl, dogs and parakeets welcomed us to the buffet lunch. A volunteer took us on a monkey walk - she had had her fair share of plastic surgery, so looked a bit out of place at the sanctuary, but clearly concerned for the animals. She warned that if anything is on us, the monkeys would take it - jewellery, money or sunglasses even if in a buttoned pocket would be taken. Cameras would be ok as they are familiar now with them. In cities in Bolivia monkeys have been trained as thieves as you can't prosecute a monkey if caught - we didn't see any of these on our travels. We walked across the river and out of nowhere the first monkey jumped on Mands who obliged with a shriek. Botox told Mands off for scarring the monkeys (!?#^) and the next thing another was on me trying to pry the camera out of my hands - I was more composed right up until the monkey put it's fingers in my mouth to see if there was anything worth stealing inside.
Botox told us some stories about the monkeys behaviours and how they go through the same emotions as us - one cleaned out her "house" each day with a broom, another with a face deformity had attacked one of the volunteers who starred at it constantly.
We returned to La Paz after a 4 hour drive including driving up the road of death - when this was a major transport route it must have been terrifying - we've seen videos posted on the Internet of busses disappearing over the edge. As my Dad would say …scary stuff.
That evening it was my choice for venue after Mandy's disastrous Thai selection and I picked a steak grill that specialises in Jack Daniels whiskey sautéed steaks. When it arrived, out came the JD and it and flames a meter high engulfed the meat. Good start to the South American steak trail.
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