Drivers literally take their lives into their hands when they set out on one of the main highways out of La Paz, Bolivia. It is known as the most dangerous road in the world and an estimated 200 or 300 drivers plummet off its edge each year. But the road's dangers are now attracting hundreds of thrill-seeking travelers as well, high on the challenge of getting down and dirty on the famed "Road of Death". High in the mountainous jungles of Bolivia are the kind of precipices that even nimble mountain goats find it hard to get a foothold on. But between the dizzyingly sheer rock faces and plummeting drops, winds a testament to human determination - a rickety, thin road curling around the mountain edges which has earned a dark reputation as one of the world's most perilous routes. At its height the road climbs just short of five kilometers (three miles) above sea level. It is hard enough to catch your breath up here, let alone nervously maneuver a two-ton truck. Then, almost without warning, the road pitches forward like a giant rollercoaster and dips down into the fog-filled abyss. The road leads out of La Paz, one of the highest cities in the world. It was built in the 1930s by gangs of Paraguayan prisoners of war. Many of them perished in the effort. Now it is mainly Bolivians who are losing their lives on the road. There are no ambulances out here. Mobile phones don't even work in order to call for help. An estimated 200 to 300 people die on a stretch of road less than 50 miles long. In one year alone, 25 vehicles plunged off the road and into the ravine. That is one every two weeks. And there is one man on the road who witnesses many of them as they go off the edge. "One year I saw two trucks even when they went (off the edge) with my own eyes. Another year another one was loaded with those machines that drill water wells that had come from Beni," said Timoteo Apaza. Timoteo is a human traffic light, whose job is to direct traffic in an orderly fashion - so that the cars and trucks that use the road can pass one another safely. However - Timoteo says - it doesn't always work out. "It [guard rail] broke and gave way and they fell 600 metres down. The driver was dead but the assistant was still standing. But I couldn't do anything. What could I do? It was a huge truck and there wasn't any steady stone to put a wedge in," he said. Timoteo works on the road's most dangerous section. Here the dirt path narrows into a narrow two meters. The locals call it "The Little Balcony", and the numerous white crosses littered across the surrounds speak of the people who didn't make it across. Over the edge, the remains of the most recent car to lose its traction can be seen rusting far down below. In 1995, the Inter American Development Bank listed this road as the most dangerous in the world. Still an onslaught of backpacker-happy travelers have recently begun to descend on the road and get in on the "action". "Road of Death" bicycle tours have quickly become one of La Paz's most popular thrill-seeking activities. Every day a crowd of mostly young, international travelers turn out, enthusiastically strapping on their brightly-colored safety helmets ready to get down and dirty on the world's most dangerous road. Before setting out a guide reels off accident statistics and warns there could be accidents while on the tour. However the tourists say that is all part of the excitement: "They told us about what happens on the road, it could be accident, animals coming out what can happen, there could be oil, everything, so I'm like this now - heart is boom, boom, boom. So adrenaline is definitely pumping," one tourist, Julietta Ahmanson said as she strapped on her helmet. The tour starts out at the road's highest point - suitably named "The Summit". It is all downhill from here, and although their mountain bikes come equipped with 24 gears the cyclists are instructed not to use them. They are told to put the bike into top gear, and leave it there. For a while it is easy riding, that is if you don't mind getting up close and personal with cliff edges that in some parts plummet down more than half a mile to the Coroico River below. Then things start to pick up. "We are cycling for over 64 kilometers. There's a lot of dust and it's very hot down there," tour guide Nathan Rogers said. Around midday, the cyclists begin to pedal down towards Timoteo's area of work - the Little Balcony. At this time of year it is the wet season in Bolivia, and hundreds of waterfalls spout out the cliff edges turning the road into a slick and slimy mess. Here is where some of the adrenalin-pumped cyclists admit they lose some of their nerve. "The first part was very nice with a lot of great speed, nice curves, really great fun and the nature is amazing, and the last part is a little bit rough," tourist Richard Johnson said. But then the worst is over, and the riders grab a quick rest before winding their way down to the sleepy village of Coroico. They ford the swift-running river that miles above before appeared nothing more than a thin, silver ribbon. This time, everyone made it down. Although cyclist deaths are rare, they have happened before. Sometimes passing vehicles don't leave enough room, other times the cyclists have lost control on the downhill run. But this time, the only injuries for this animated troupe were a few aching hands from excessive braking on the downhill descent. "Happy, really, really happy, and tired, really, really tired," tourist Julietta Ahmanson said. A new by-pass is being built to replace the current road. It is due to come to completion this year and the government said it will be safer, but has already been some 20 years in the making so no one is holding their breath.