Playing Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, as only two knockabouts can in the desert of South West Bolivia - where the movie was made!!

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Saddling up on the outskirts of Tupiza, a frontier mining town in far south-west Bolivia, it was impossible not to sink into the same romantically rugged imagery that lured Butch and Sundance back to lawlessness after a stint of the straight life as ranchers in Patagonia and Chile.

Dusty winds whipped up around me, racing across the desert cactus landscape before disappearing up rust-coloured canyons. It's easy to understand why Butch and Sundance made world famous by the 1969 movie of their exploits starring Robert Redford and Paul Newman fled here: it was a reminder of their Wild West roots in North America. And with numerous train lines, mines, banks and payrolls, it also provided cash targets.

It was here, on 4th November in 1908, that the bandits forever emblazoned their names in the sands of outlaw history when they held up the Aramayo Mining Company payroll as it was delivered to workers in the north.

Today, the valleys, gorges and trails of this hauntingly beautiful Andean outpost whisper legends of the outlaws gun slinging adventures including what became their final hold-up and bullet-riddled demise. For many travellers, being able to trace the pairs last days in authentic posse fashion is one of South America's most unforgettable horseback adventures.

Riding through barren passes up to Huaca Huanusca (Dead Cow Hill), the isolated hold-up site fifty kilometres north of Tupiza, gave me plenty of time to take in the impressive mountain scenery. Ten shades of brown mixed with long shadows created by strange, weather-shaped cliffs that soared above. Cartoon-like cactus fields flashed brilliant green among spindly, low-growth bush.

Butch and Sundance met with little resistance as they surprised the payroll donkey train from behind a large rock on the creek-bed trail cutting through Dead Cow Hill, a picture postcard spot for a hold-up if ever there was one. Not one shot was fired. The prize for their brazen but courteous robbery was eighty thousand pesos, today's equivalent of roughly half a million US dollars.

Leaving their victims stunned but unharmed, Butch and Sundance circled around, staying high in the Cordillera de Chichas as they tried to shake off the posse of police and angry armed miners quickly recruited to help retrieve their own payroll. Fleeing through ravines the pair escaped south, skirting Tupiza before heading further west.

Here the countryside is a palette of geographical drama where towering rock faces and distant ranges constantly change their vivid earthy hues as the burning sun crosses from horizon to horizon. Riders can only marvel at how the fleeing pair managed to safely navigate through the hundreds of valleys and gorges, all the while not having a moment to stop and wonder at the Dali-esque landscapes of Puerta del Diablo (Devil's Door), Valle de Los Machos (Valley of the Matches) and Canon del Inca (Inca Canyon) as they galloped further into the mountains.

After two days on the run, Butch and Sundance arrived in the tiny mining settlement of San Vicente, 119 kilometres from Tupiza and over 4,000 metres up in the Andes. Hungry and tired they decided to rest. Figuring they were for the moment safe, and unaware of a posse closing in from the northern mining centre of Uyuni, they found lodging in a local's adobe-bricked house. After paying for food and drink with wads of illicit cash, the host became suspicious and, under the pretext of buying beer, he headed straight to a nearby army post to inform the commander of his gringo guests.

And the gun battle was on. Bullets rained on the small house as soldiers and miners surrounded the hapless outlaws. Heavily out manned and gunned, they were trapped.

As the sun rose, silence prevailed. Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid were found dead on the floor, riddled with lead. After nearly twenty years of run-ins with the law, they had finally run out of luck, not riding into a blazing sunset on horseback as they'd dreamed, but in a blaze of bullets in a small house high in the Andean mountain desert. Butch had shot his badly wounded partner, putting him out of his misery after Sundance was hit so many times he couldn't lift an arm to return fire. Then, with a final bullet, Butch shot himself.

The bodies of Butch and Sundance remain in San Vincente despite being exhumed from their simple, unadorned graves for DNA testing. The shoot-out house also remains but bullet holes have long been covered and, as a private residence, visitors are denied the chance to stand where the bandits fell, to picture their last, defiant moments cut down in a hailstorm of Wild West justice.

Instead, you're left to imagine the desperate final stand of America's most notorious outlaws from the viewpoint of the sheriff and his army posse outside. Maybe it's a better cowboy fantasy anyway. After all, the lawmakers lived to return home with tales of gun-slinging adventure in the Bolivian badlands, just like those who ride in the hoofprints of Butch and Sundance today.