Death Road is named this way for a reason; before an alternative road was opened in 2007, approximately 200-300 people died each year on this road, which is less than 50 miles long. The road itself, and road is a generous term at best, is a maximum of 3 metres wide, and is built into the side of a mountain, with a sheer drop to your left the whole way down.
And I decided it was a good idea to mountain bike down it last week!
Given that I haven't got on a bike for about 18 months, maybe this particular journey wasn't the best way to start up a long abandoned hobby again but it was a bit too late to turn back once I'd got to the top of the 4900m mountain where the road begins. So really, the only way was down.
The first part of the road is tarmac - this is part of the new 'alternative to Death Road' road, and was about a quarter of our journey. It was 9am, we were 5 kilometres above sea level and even with my six layers on I was freezing. And that was before the downhill zoom!
It started to rain on the tarmac road, and the bikes don't have front mud guards so the tyre was handily spraying a stream of water directly into my eyes, which is not what you want when you're whizzing down a road named for it fatalities. My fingers were gripped so hard on the brakes that I think they froze in that position for a while (it certainly felt cold enough anyway) but we made it down that first stretch with only a few problems: 1) I was chased by about 8 dogs at one point, and they were almost under my tyres so I though I might crash; and 2) my back tyre fell off the edge of the cliff at one point and it was only my quick reflexes that saved me by braking super hard! And this wasn't even on the official Death Road bit yet! (Breathe mum, I'm OK).
Death Road itself is now closed to traffic, so the only people you meet on your way down are fellow cyclists, motorcyclists or the minibuses that accompany each bike tour in case anyone gets cold feet and wants to ride down the easy way, inside a vehicle. No-one is allowed back up via that route so at least the minibuses don't have to worry about trying to pass another vehicle on a road barely wide enough for one (this is how most of the accidents happened, by buses trying to pass each other - one might lose balance and topple off).
The ride is 63km in total, and we stopped a few times for a snack and drinks, which are vital for survival. The views out across the valleys were amazing, although a little scary when you see just how high up you are, and how steep the drop to your left is. About halfway down my wrists had seized up and I was finding it very painful to grip the brakes. On gentler stretches I had to let go of the brakes a bit and wiggle my fingers to see if I really had lost all sensation in them. It was hard work. Also the gears were broken on my bike so on the parts where you had to pedal, I always got left WAY behind the rest of the group cos I couldn't pedal hard enough to keep up!
But I didn't finish last! And I survived! At the bottom I got off my bike and pretty much fell to the floor in exhaustion. I was so bruised and stiff and sore the next few days but it was worth it. I made it down the world's most dangerous road! I don't think I'll be getting back on a mountain bike any time soon though...
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