I Love Gravity. It´s Great.

Apparently I survived the "World´s Most Dangerous Road" (WMDR), or so says the shirt that I was given at the end of a sixty-six kilometer bike ride that I took today. I should preface this story by noting that since I am currently writing this entry then I obviously made it through the experience unscathed. Thus, Mom, if you are reading this, I AM OK. Alright, now that we have that out of the way, the story:

Yesterday I was bored. I returned to La Paz from the salt flats a day or two before I had initially planned, so I had some extra time on my hands. While walking the streets taking dozens more pictures, I decided that I wanted to spend my final day in Bolivia, Sunday, doing something active and fun. So I popped my head into Gravity Assisted Mounting Biking, which is the preeiminent company that takes riders along the WMDR, which is a trip from La Paz to Coroico along a road that, well, to say the least, is a bit hairy.

At about twenty or so feet wide, about thirty kilometers of the road hugs the Bolivian mountainside. The exposed side of the road, at times, is a sheer cliff with a drop off of up to 1,000 meters...or about 3,300 feet for those of you who are counting. Essentially, if you fall you aren´t going to bounce for awhile. But not to fear. To be honest, I didn´t find it do be too scary. Have there been casulties? Well, judging by the number of crosses along the roadside, yes. Heck, one of our group members had to have stitches after a nasty fall. However, our guides and gear were great...and I rode at about 3 mph. Weirdly, our main guide, Travis, was from Colorado. He spends half the year running a bike company in Bolivia, and the other half as the head liftie at Telluride. Additionally, he is a fellow "One Year Alum" of my first college, Western State College of Colorado. This, coupled with the Berkeley PhD student I randomly met on a La Paz street yesterday reminded me how small the world really is.


So, the exciting part of the ride wasn´t actually taming the road, but rather the tremendous beauty of the ride and the group of people I shared it with. Over sixty-six kilometers, we dropped nearly 12,000 feet in altitude, from 15,400 to 3,600 feet. Such a change in altitude alowed us to travel from the towering Andes, through the cloud forest, and into the more tropical parts of Bolivia. That, my friends, is defnintely gravity assisted bike riding. As you can see from the pictures, dressing in layers was key. I am glad I didn´t show that last picture...you know, the naked one. Kidding. Gross.

My group consisted of some Brits, Aussies, Yankees, and a lone Kiwi, Olivia. Olivia was great to talk to because not only did she spend three days in the salt flats with five Israelis trying to understand Hebrew as well, but she also spent two months volunteering (randomly) in the same area in Peru, Cajamarca, where our UNIDO team will be working in over the next few weeks.


Sadly, this is my last entry from Bolivia, as I leave in about twelve hours for Peru. There I will meet up with Luke Dunnington and the infamous Kurt Huffman, both fellow Haasies. For those of you who do not know these people let me just give a brief background. Hell, they don´t need a background. Let me just say that both of them have been in Peru for a week, which about as much time needed for them to single-handedly transform the country. I may be returning to a Peru completely different than the one I left just one week ago.

I will miss Bolivia. While it is tremendously chaotic and at times frustrating, it is also unbelievably beautiful and flavorful. It was the country that I wanted to visit most in South America and I am glad that I had the opportunity to do so. More so than any other country I have visited, the juxtaposition between the new and old is readily apparent. This was illustrated best yesterday while I wandered a traditional market along the steep streets of La Paz. Among the hundreds of indigenous Bolivians selling fruits, vegetables, meats, and other staples, was one woman, brightly dressed in traditional clothing, chatting on a cell phone. That is really demonstrative of the country as a whole.


Alright, I am done. The mid-1980´s American love songs on here at the internet cafe are starting to get to me. Oh, who am I kidding, I love Bruce Hornsby. On to Peru!