This road. Many years ago, I rode in the back of a Toyota pickup from Llipi to La Paz. The edge of the road was littered with crosses, memorials to people who had driven over the cliffs. In the middle of the trip, I realized we were all suffering from carbon monoxide poisoning (I was the only one not completely conked out) and tore the tarp off the back of the truck (better wet from the rain than dead). At the end of the 15 hour trip, I was caked in dust. We checked into a hotel. They didn’t have any rooms with a private bath and only rooms with private baths came with towels. I said to the clerk that I’d pay the three Bolivianos extra and pretend to be in a room with a private bath if he would let me have a towel. He looked at me like I was a criminal for suggesting such a thing.