I went mountainbiking down the world's most danger

...and all I got was, in addition to a not in the least lousy t-shirt, a full day of andrenaline-inducing activities, good fun, and all possible weather conditions bar sandstorms.A bunch of us decided to tackle what is commonly known as the most dangerous road in the world outside of La Paz, so named because of its frequent fatal accidents, its width of roughly 4,5-6 metres, its ill-maintaned dirt surface (at places undermined by the erosion of waterfalls), its solid rock walls on one side and mostly its sheer, 300-600 metre drop on the other. Lars, Kate, Cholong, Ross, Catherine&Cillian and I were the ones willing to risk life and limb on the andean infrastructural botch job.We started by taking the bus up to some 4600 metres, and put on as much clothes as possible while still operating a bike. In the gently falling snow we plummeted the steep, still asphalt-covered and wide roads, at 60-80 kph, overtaking bi and lorries in the process. As we descended, the snow stopped and was replaced by a thick fog, which later turned to rain. My at first freezing feet were warmed up, as my Converse, when sufficiently soaked, served as some kind of wetsuit. The rain stopped as we started our 8 km climbing section. Biking uphill at 3300 metres elevation is not as walk-in-the-parky as you might think.After the climb, the tarmac took one route, and us the other. The steep, narrow dirt roads had begun, and the lack of fences and the non-lack of random rocks added to the fear factor.Downwards we swosched, with certain doom on one side, certain banging into solid rock on one and a certain risk of being ridiculed by the others if going to chickeny. The altitude shrank, the vegetation increased, the temperature rose and the waterfalls grew ever more frequent. Eventually we were riding in nothing but t-shirt, shorts and the mandatory vests and helmets and found ourself in an animal sanctuary in the jungle. A jungle which we ziplined across. Superman style.The busride baack up was even scarier; the bus was at places just slightly narrower than the road, the sheer 600 metre drop was more poignant thann when cycling down. And the information our bike guide had withheld earlier he now relayed: That on just haow many cyclist had died on the road since it opened for gravity assisted mountain biking in early 2000. The whole day was bloody awesome, and a perfect end to the trip. As my former co-travellers boarded Cameron at ridiculous o'clock next morning, I was there to say farewell. Hugs and kisses. I went back to bed and set sail for Sweden.As the plural of cactus is cacti, and the plural of platypus is platypi, so must the plurall of bus be bi.