The World's Most Dangerous Road (cont)

The descent was steep and curvy, but beautiful. Lush vegetation clung to the cliff side drop which later disappeared into the jungle canopies below. Wind was continuously battering the two bikers as they struggled to keep their trembling hands from steering the wheels off course. In the distance they could hear honks from far away cars trying to pass each other. The noise was eerily amplified by the valley walls.

Once Jason and Tim got accustomed to the bikes it was smooth but fast sailing. The breaks helped little in slowing down their face numbing speeds. They dodged death, curve after winding curve. All around them there were tiny graves dedicated to those who had fallen off the edge. Tim lost count when he reached the hundreds. One could almost taste the adrenaline sweating out their bodies.

Halfway down there was a man directing traffic. They stopped to talk to him. Ever since his son died in a car accident years ago he had been helping others safely pass. The old man was homeless and lived off donations. Jason and Tim gave him a couple of pesos for his kindness. He warned that up ahead lay the most dangerous part of the path. Several waterfalls had turned the gravel into mud and the road there was narrower than ever.