“To escape fear, you have to go through it, not around.” –Richie Norton
I love adventure more than most people, but I am terrified of heights. Planes? No problem. Hiking through a mountain pass at 15,000 ft. elevation? Bring it! But if you put me somewhere up high where I don’t feel secure and I feel like I could fall off, I lose it. I’ve tried to overcome my fear many times. I’ve ridden on roller coasters, gone zip lining, and even parasailing…but even though I try conquering my fear head on, it doesn’t go away.
So when I heard about the World’s Most Dangerous Road (also known as the Death Road) near La Paz in Bolivia, I was skeptical. This North Yunga road is single-lane dirt road carved into the side of a mountain that covers a stretch from La Paz to Coroico. It starts at 15,400 feet elevation amidst cold, snowy peaks, and in the course of 40 miles it drops down 11,800 feet, ending at just 3,600 feet, right into the hot and humid jungle.
The danger of this road has made it a popular tourist destination, and thousands of thrill seekers come yearly to mountain bike down the Death Road. Josh and I both enjoy biking and thought the day tour sounded amazing. It sounded like an incredible adventure filled with beautiful mountain views.
Then we started researching details and I learned that not only is this road a single lane dirt track, it also has no side rails or ledges. They call it the black widow of roads. The thin road is constantly winding and has over 200 hairpin turns with nauseatingly deep canyons below, and sheer drops of up to 3,300 feet in some parts. Dozens of vehicles have gone off the road each year, and it is lined with crosses and memorials of those who have been lost.
In 1994 Inter-American Development Bank proclaimed it as the ‘World’s Most Dangerous Road’. Between 200 to 300 travelers die yearly, with a fatal accident occurring about every two weeks.
Suddenly visions of hurtling down a long dusty, foggy dirt path, flying out of control off the side of a cliff came to mind. I became much less enthusiastic about the whole thing. Just thinking about it made me nauseous. But the more we talked to people about the Death Road, the more I felt like I had to try it. We only heard rave reviews! We also learned that in 2007 a new two-lane paved road was completed, removing the majority of traffic from the WMDR, making it much safer for mountain bikers because there were much less cars and trucks passing. Over 25,000 people mountain bike down the road each year…it couldn’t be that unsafe if that many people did it, could it?
And so we went on our day trip. The morning started early, around 6am at a local tavern. We met up with about 30 other people who were going on the ride too, then split off into groups and drove to the starting point. We decided to go with the company called Gravity Assisted Mountain Biking, who appeared to be the safest out there. We’d heard that some companies are much cheaper, but you get what you pay for. You might get a super old bike with horrible brakes, and I wasn’t taking any chances. Gravity was awesome. They give you a full day on the bike, and include a lunch and time to visit an animal rescue center in the jungle nearby the finish before going back to La Paz.
Llama Power!
The start of the ride was 2 hours away from La Paz, and as we drove, our guide Wolf started spouting off all the do’s and don’ts of riding on the roads, and telling us a bunch of horror stories that have happened with him and other guides in the past. He spouted off one horror story after another, including one that happened to him two days before, when one of his bikers hit a rock and flew off the edge of the cliff (luckily he was ok, he clung onto some bushes on the side and Wolf had to use a rope to get his grip and pull him back onto the road).
By the time we got to the starting point I was officially tense, my shoulders and teeth clenching. We got out and got our bikes, which were brand new Kona Mountain Bikes, with the best brakes I’ve ever touched. They were so intense that as I was riding around the parking lot practicing, I realized that these suckers could actually be what make me go flying off my bike if I jolted too suddenly. Don’t break too hard, I noted to myself, hands clenched. My plan was to just take it slow, and hug the corner with land. If I wasn’t next to the cliff I wouldn’t see it.
Slow and steady wins the race, I told myself over and over.
For practice we did 10-15 miles on the main paved road first before getting to the Death Road. It was actually a really nice, gradual downhill road with a beautiful view. Under normal circumstances I would’ve enjoyed the ride, but knowing that Death Road was coming gave me such butterflies that I was overly skittish, and moving unnecessarily slow. Josh, bless his heart, stayed back with me and made sure I was ok even though I knew he wanted to fly down the hill as fast as some of the others were.
Then came Death Road. We drove for 20 long minutes in the van, then got out where the dirt path begins, and listened to more extreme horror stories, and then Wolf broke the horrible new rules to us: We were NOT to bike on the right side of the road as we went down (like normal road etiquette), we were to ride on the left. This was because there are still cars driving on the road too, and if you are on the right, they can’t see you as they turn the sharp corners and could hit you on your bike. So my plan was immediately screwed…I couldn’t hug the corner the whole way down, next to the safe and sturdy land. I had to drive down 40 miles of single lane dirt road cliffs, hugging the cliff! One false move, and OOPS! Over the edge!
After hearing this I panicked. I didn’t think I stood a chance of actually making it to the bottom of the road. I grew shaky and stiff, and a huge pit in my stomach formed. I stood at the starting line, my legs between the bike, grasping onto my handle bars wondering how in the heck I should tell Wolf that there was no way I was going. I started thinking of what I would say.
I don’t feel well, I’ll just sit in the van as Josh goes. Maybe I’ll bike when we get about half way down. I’ll just see how steep it is first.
“I can’t do it, I can’t,” I whispered to Josh. “I’ll wait in the car.” I felt embarrassed, but also incapable of taking the next step. Everyone took their final swig of water and started getting on their bikes, ready to start. Josh looked at me and could see the fear in my eyes, but stayed positive. “You can do it Marissa, just go this first few miles and see how it is. If it’s awful you can stop. Just try it at the beginning.”
This is where my husband gets the shout out. Thank gosh for him, he makes me braver than I actually am. He managed to talk me into trying it out, despite my shaking body filled with terror.
People started filing out and I held back waiting until the end of the 14 people, planning on going slow and steady to our first stop. Another girl in the group ended up being similar to me, so her and I went together with our guide. The downhill was pretty steep, so it was way harder to go slow than I wanted, but I practiced using the brakes lightly enough that I had control but didn’t fly off the bike. It was scary, but I made it to the first stop! I took a deep breath and looked around. The scenery was out of this world. Lush, green mountains wrapped the curves as far as my eyes could see, with a light layer of clouds hovering lowly near the road. I looked down at the sheer rocky cliff, then quickly away. It was then that I decided I was going to finish the bike ride. No matter how scared I was, I had to see the road firsthand-from the bike not from the van.
Me riding WMDR with a terrified look!
It was a long morning. It took us about four hours to get to the end of the ride. We stopped 8-10 times, each time learning of the history and stories of the area we passed. Every curve seemed to have a story and a name. There were crosses and graves along the entire path, from all the people who died on the road. We also learned that people still die on the road each year while biking, and it was not a joke. A few other groups wizzed past us on their bikes as we went, and I saw their bikes. I was extremely glad we were with Gravity on newer bikes. It’s not something you want to mess with.
The terrain was pretty rough, and definitely rocky. I felt like I was constantly shaking as I went down, and clenching on for dear life to my handlebars. At one point we biked through a waterfall that sprayed out from the side of the road, and covered us in water. It was freezing but exhilarating! The temperature fluctuated as much as the elevation; we went from below freezing to 80 degrees and humid at the end. We tried to keep fully covered with our clothes despite the heat in case we fell, so it would be less skin damage.
I got more comfortable as time went on, but I never got to that point where I could just fly down the road without a care as some did. I was constantly looking ahead and anticipating what was next, lightly braking if I got too fast for my liking. It was physically and mentally exhausting. I was beyond thrilled when we got to the end, and finished with a cold beer and some crisps. Victory!
Afterwards we went to the animal rescue center, La Senda Verde. We got hot showers, a pasta lunch, and got to take a tour and see their monkeys. They had Spider Monkeys, Howler Monkeys, Tortoises, Bears, and tons of tropical birds. It was such a nice way to relax afterwards before heading home.
On the way back we actually drove home on the Death Road in the van. It was getting dark and was really eerie being back on the same road we had just experienced every nook and cranny of earlier, but this time in a vehicle going uphill. Our driver was really safe and it didn’t really worry me this time. Our driver did stop a few times though and tell a few stories at places where he’s actually found cars over the cliff in the years past.
I was definitely happy to be back in La Paz that night, and completely drained of energy. My hands were cramping from holding the handlebars and brakes so hard, and the repeated bouncing down the rugged road actually made my arms sore like I had done a workout that day. As I went to bed that night I put on my new “I survived Death Road” t-shirt, and nodded off to sleep with a smile on my face. I may still be afraid of heights tomorrow, but I definitely faced my fears head on. I felt satisfied. 
