After the planned trip to climb a nearby mountain fell through, the second best option proved to be biking down the "World's Most Dangerous Road" this past weekend. (Okay, okay. So maybe I live for adventures?) Don't worry....as my dad quickly responded with the question, "And why was this called the most dangerous road?" I am happy to share with you the reasoning behind this. Apparently, years ago, a vast number of car accidents occurred on this road, as the road is no bigger than one lane and was open for cars going each way with a cliff on one side and a mountain on the other.
However, despite the odds, going down on a bicycle made specifically for downhill and also so early in the morning that no other bike tour groups were in the way (it's illegal for cars to pass through now), made this a basically safe endeavor. My friend Tom Bjorlie and I were thrilled at the constant warming of the weather as we made our way down. Even more, my spirit came alive as the mountain passes (which started out to be snowy and foggy) became greener and filled with a sweeter air. I felt myself letting off the brakes a little more with each kilometer. This was the life.
After the ride (which I feel I could do multiple times in a row and never get bored), we met up with a group of Highlands' teachers in Coroico, a little town nestled near the Yungas. Yes, it was a bit of a tourist trap (not my cup of tea usually), but I am confident that we all needed the refreshment of an increased amount of oxygen, a great time to hang out and get to know each other, and hours upon hours of not being told we had to be somewhere or do something.
Of course, stepping back into life in La Paz was a quick shock. Again though, I am reminded that I love being here. I love the life of which God has asked me to be a part. I love sweet times on Tuesday evenings sharing with the hearts of high school girls. I love walking places. And can I say I even love consistency at times?
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