Now that I am a motorbike veteran of nearly 5000kms I thought it was time to take on what is known as Colombia’s worst road. The Trampolin del Diablo or Trampolin of Death or Death Road. Whichever title you use, they all seem to point to the fact that it’s probably a dangerous road. It’s a road that was built in the thirties so that the army could get people across into the amazon part of Colombia near its southern border with Ecuador and Peru. It’s pretty inhospitable terrain and despite decades of talk of upgrading the road I think the plans are just shoved into the back of someone’s filing cabinet in a building in Bogota.

It’s a 70km stretch of unpaved road from Mocoa, where I spent the night, and San Francisco where it returns to a reasonable bitumen road. Despite not being able to give you a body count it sounds like several hundred people have died over the years but mainly due to landslides and road collapses. According to dangerousroads.org there were 300 people killed in a huge collapse in 1989. I did read up a bit about it because I didn’t want to die quite yet. The first 10 kms were pretty nice and then I had to cross a stream. It turned out to be the only one that had a rocky bottom and loose gravel and was a foot deep, as all the other water crossings were concreted.

The road then started to climb and twist back and forth. You do build up a bit of anxiety in your mind and as I rounded the blind corners I was always conscious of the fact that there could be a vehicle or a road washout that I’d need to avoid. I kept the speed down and tried to keep a good line on the road. There were a few patches of loose gravel which I’m still not comfortable with yet as the bike wiggles around beneath me. I had already decided in my mind to take it slow and not look at the clock and I’d get to the end when I got to the end.

As expected, the road did narrow a lot, and I was fortunate that there wasn’t much traffic and when I did have to pass or be passed it was on a wider section of road. I did have a couple of mini taxi vans pass me and a couple of 4×4’s. There were definitely sections of road where the guard rails had been hit and bent or had gone over the edge. And other places where there were probably never rails anyway. I think I could confidently say that I didn’t really see any spots where you could go off the edge of the road where you would survive. The drops were not only steep and high but they were also pretty spectacular. I stopped and took a lot of photos.

I passed a few cyclists on mountain bikes which I thought was a bit weird. I ended up stopping at a little grotto thing (possibly where all the people died?) where two cyclists were having a break. They were locals and said if it’s a nice day on a weekend they like to ride up to the lookout and coast back down. I knew the spanish word was loco but I didn’t use it. While I was talking to them a couple of the bigger trucks passed by which was nice timing.

The road switched back and forth and up and down a lot and so you could often see what traffic you’d soon be encountering. There were some lovely waterfalls that streamed down onto the edge of the road and became little water crossings or went under a bridge or causeway. There were a few little shrines set into the edge of the road for people who had died. Despite the death part it was very beautiful scenery.

I wasn’t sure where the top was or if there was actually a top. There were so many scenic lookouts but I came across an old building which I guess had been some sort of communication building. I then came across a small shop and stopped there and was able to get some breakfast. I opted for a couple of deep fried balls of mashed potato with egg and meat inside them. They were slightly warm. I was cold. The view was pretty specky. As I was about to leave a big truck pulled in which was nice timing again.

I wasn’t watching the clock but I was watching the odometer and it was taking a long time to travel a short distance. It was probably then it occurred to me that it was such a lovely sunny day and all of the things I’d read about the road had been about the rain and lack of visibility. And it was a Sunday and there wasn’t much traffic and I passed a couple of road maintenance vehicles parked up for the weekend on the side of the road.

The only bottleneck that I saw or didn’t see was when a big truck let me past and a few kms later I came across a 4×4 with a long trailer with motorbikes on it, which was stopped just up the hill and around a bend from a bridge. I don’t know what he was doing there and although the road was skinny I was able to squeeze past on the bike. The people were out of the car chatting. I continued on a few more bends and had to let a big truck past that was coming towards me. By my calculations both trucks would reach the car and trailer at about the same time. I was almost tempted to ride back for a look.

I passed a couple more little shops which I would have assumed would have been halfway if I had been coming from the other direction. The road continued winding and eventually the valley started to open up and let more light in and I could see the road, way down below and what looked like flat land. I had survived the death road and to be honest it was probably the third worst road I had travelled on in Colombia. The scariest being the high pass in the rain and wind between Medellin and Bogota. The roughest being two days ago when I was riding the 30kms of bad road on my way to San Agustin.

A lot of it comes down to luck sometimes. I had a rare day of perfect weather and no wind and not much traffic or roadworks. I’m sure if the exact opposite of all those things happened it would be a long, slow, dangerous trip. It took me about four hours. I didn’t stop in San Francisco because it wasn’t the one with the bridge and I was enjoying the fast pace and flat riding surface. I continued on great winding roads that past lake Laguna de la Cocha which was an impressive big lake and then skirted around the big city of Pasto and made it to the border town of Ipiales before dark.

It had been a big day of riding and thanks to the weather a very enjoyable one.  The next day was going to be a bit scary as I was due to cross over the border into Ecuador but I needed to go to church before I did that.