Intro
I rolled out of Batallas at 08:45 this morning into a crisp 7.1°C chill, the Altiplano sky looking like polished blue glass. The road was a paved, four-lane stretch with a heavy concrete divider, serving as a flat prelude to the vertical complexity of El Alto. Today wasn’t about the distance, but about the transition from the open highway into the world’s most elevated urban transit system.
Pork and Pavement
- The day started with a focus on fuel. By 09:05, I was at a small spot near the main plaza in Batallas, putting away three salteñas. The juice from the pastry was the first real flavor of the day, followed by a mandarina and an apple I’d been carrying. The ride itself was largely unremarkable—mostly a dual carriageway with surprisingly light traffic. I stopped at 10:15 under the shadow of a pedestrian bridge to brush my teeth and reapply sunscreen, trying to hide from the intensifying Andean sun. By noon, the temperature had climbed to 16.3°C, and a 15 km/h wind began pushing against my panniers.
- At 14:00, I pulled into Chancho a la Cruz for a massive lunch. I ordered the fricase mixto, a heavy soup that arrived with two large chunks of pork and a thick slice of BBQ pork belly floating on top. The bowl was crowded with big corn knobs—mote—and chuñas, those dehydrated potatoes with a distinct, rubbery texture that I’ve come to associate with high-altitude meals. I washed it all down with a full liter of peach tea because they didn’t have anything smaller. By the time I got back on the bike at 15:00, I felt the heavy, greasy weight of the pork broth and belly sitting in my gut. Those last six kilometers to El Alto were a slow, sluggish crawl.
The Stairwell Struggle
- I reached the Waña Ravira station of the Teleférico’s Blue Line at 16:00, and the logistics immediately became a puzzle. I approached the counter with a practiced ‘Una consulta’ to ask about the bike. I bought a ticket while gesturing to my loaded rig, but the first obstacle was the elevator. It was far too small for a touring bike. I had to use the elevator just to shuttle my bags to the first floor while the security guards kept an eye on the bike below. Once the gear was up, I walked back down and began the physical task of hauling the bike up the stairs, the tires making a rhythmic ‘thump-bump’ against the concrete steps.
- Just as I reached the top, a guard informed me that I needed a separate ticket for the bicycle itself. He offered to watch the bike while I descended the stairs again to the ticket booth. It was a repetitive, exhausting dance of vertical movement. Once back up, getting into the cabin was the easy part. The benches face each other with enough floor space in between for the bike to stand. One guard helped me heave the large rear bag into the cabin just as the doors hissed shut, and suddenly, the mechanical grind of the climb was replaced by silence.
Descending into the Bowl
- The transition was surreal. The Blue Line ‘flies’ relatively flat across the Altiplano, skimming over the endless red-brick rooftops of El Alto. At the 16th July station, I switched to the Grey Line, which was a seamless transition on the same floor. The final leg was the Purple Line, which required another descent. This elevator was also standard-sized, so I ended up bumping the bike down the stairs again, the metallic ‘clack-clack’ of the frame echoing in the station. By 16:42, I touched down at Obelisco station in the very heart of La Paz.
- The temperature at the finish was 16.5°C, but the wind had picked up to a gusty 22 km/h. I navigated the final steep stretch to the Saint Peter Llama Hostel and checked into a 10-bed dorm. I intentionally chose the larger room just to snag a lower bunk; the thought of climbing a ladder after the stair-hauling session in El Alto was more than I could handle. I spent the next hour sorting gear, deciding which valuables needed to be locked away and which could stay in the bags. I also prepped my kit for tomorrow’s ride with the Alpaz cycling club, making sure everything was ready for an early start.
A Light Finish
- By 20:00, I forced myself out of the hostel. I was still feeling the effects of the afternoon pork feast and wanted something that wouldn’t sit like a stone. I walked north through a cluster of restaurants, eventually finding a place called La Grosería. Despite the name, I found a light shakshuka that provided exactly the kind of balance I needed. I was back at the hostel by 21:44, completely drained. I tried to finish my notes, but the fatigue won out. I have a 06:00 call with my sister and a 07:00 call with a friend in Germany tomorrow, so sleep is the only priority left.
Overnight
I stayed at the Saint Peter Llama Hostel in La Paz. I opted for a 10-bed dorm specifically to secure a lower bunk, which made sorting my gear for tomorrow’s club ride much easier.
Reflection
Navigating the logistics of a vertical city’s transit system with a loaded bike is more physically taxing than pedaling fifty kilometers on flat pavement.
Route summary
- Date: 2026-10-10
- Distance: 45.75 km
- Elevation gain: 330 m
- Elevation loss: 99 m
- Duration: 7 h 14 min
- Time in Motion: 3 h 32 min
- Average Speed: 13.0 km/h