El Camino de la Muerte
Life • April 20th, 2007While drinking my cocoa after four days of non-stop work meetings, I saw a documentary on the History Channel that captivated me immediately. It was about “El camino de la muerte” (“Death road” in English), a road in Bolivia averaging 200-300 annual deaths, for which it is known as the world’s most dangerous road.
As a child growing up in Colombia, every road trip my family did always meant tremendous amounts of life-threatening fear and nausea provoked by some kind of curvy two-lane mountain road with cliffs and crosses along the side reminding travelers of the many victims claimed by the road. So, I’ve had my share of dangerous mountain road riding, and my dad (a fricking-fast driver) still makes fun of me for my constant fear of mountain roads.
I agonized the three or four times my dad drove us (or should I say, flew us) from Bogotá to Bucaramanga. I didn’t enjoy driving down the Utah mountains to reach the Salt Lake valley. I refuse to go on road trips whenever I visit my family in Colombia. I hated the beautiful road to Hana. But man, none of those experiences compares to the facts, imagery and history I learned yesterday about the Death Road.
I was amazed (and let out a few lonely screams) while I saw all the different dangers this road presents: Several single-lane stretches with impossibly blind curves (the “Corners of Death”), heavy fog, flooded patches, occasional rock sliding, 14° downward slopes (the max in the U.S. is 6°) covered in gravel, and the worst: HEAVY traffic. Turns out this road connects La Paz with a region where growing coca is still legal, so on top of normal traffic, a large amount of buses and cargo vehicles travel the death road every day.
Encountering a vehicle going the opposite side involves stopping, and having the downhill driver back up as far as needed, or move to the outer edge of the road, so the other driver can pass. Two Renault 4 cars dancing to that tune, no problem… But what I was watching yesterday was two trucks negotiating passing rights by a deep precipice. The margin of error is painfully small.
On the brighter side of the story, the views from the road are absolutely gorgeous, and I learned that several locals tired of witnessing the death toll have become human traffic lights, attempting to help drivers go safely through blind turns. Obviously these crazy people traveling every year to bike down the road must love it. Crazy!… Just like Joey requesting permission to mountain bike again. Let me think about it: No.
