At a Glance

Days 2–10 | 169 km (154 trail + 15 overland)

Soaring peaks and small highland villages.
Drinkable white-sand-beach waterfalls and pristine, cola-colored rivers.
A slow-motion carousel of high savannah vistas.
A winding network of historic trails and backroads in between.

For a long crossing into the Story of Brazil, there is no better beginning.

The first days are full of everything that makes the Espinhaço memorable: long views, exuberant campos rupestres, clear rivers, old trails, small highland villages, and more waterfalls than seem entirely reasonable.

The route moves quickly between peaks, river valleys, and historic settlements. Three summits arrive in quick succession, each different from the last. High savannah becomes Atlantic Forest, and back again. Local footpaths give way to winding tropeiro routes, conservation trails and little-used dirt roads.

The distances in the early days of the expedition are real, but so is the feeling that the Espinhaço is slowly introducing itself.

By evening, a cold cerveja and a long conversation tend to feel natural and well deserved. Colonial-era villages, quiet quilombola communities, and remote ranches quickly become part of the rhythm of the crossing.

The Espinhaço reads like a novel. The Serra is its opening chapter.

The journey has just begun.

Days 11–16 | 148 km (68 trail + 80 river/4×4)

Overgrown trails and tree-sized flowers.
Lost-world waterfalls and nameless peaks.
Disputed lands. Resilient residents.
Some of the most pristine high savannah landscapes on Earth.

Sempre Vivas National Park marks a dramatic shift in the crossing.

As our expedition turns west toward the Espinhaço’s least disturbed stretch of high savannah, open trails and welcoming villages give way to rough dirt roads, quiet former mining districts, and increasingly wild country. Lush veredas, white-sand riverbanks, and deep, slow-moving tributaries mark the entrance to the Park.

As we make our way from the lowlands to the flowery high plateau at its heart, the first chapter of the expedition might as well be a million miles away. Vegetation thickens. Bogs and marshes give way to rocky trails, palm-laced tunnels of taquara, and fields of head-high grass. Trails disappear. Progress is measured in hours, not distance.

We’ll spend four nights camping in the wilderness during this chapter—along coursing water, in historic rock shelters, near flower-picker camps, and deep in landscapes where signs of modern life are few and far between.

For all of its challenges, this is often one of the most beloved chapters of the expedition. A stretch of trail where people and landscape feel inseparable at times, and where our expedition slowly becomes more than a group of travelers.

Few places in the Espinhaço feel this raw, this overlooked, or this magical.

Often, we don’t fully realize what it was doing to us until we’ve left it behind.

Days 17–22 | 158 km (59 trail + 99 overland)

Dirt roads and open horizons.
Festive cowtowns and mystic railway settlements.
Waterfalls, riverbends, and hot springs.
Home-cooked meals, ice-cold cervejinha, and the enduring hospitality of the Brazilian interior.

After days in the wilderness, the Sertão arrives as an exhale.

The final steps of Sempre Vivas see narrow trails give way to open dirt roads. Dense forests become pastureland, villages grow livelier, and cold drinks appear with increasing frequency.

By the time we emerge from the Park, the shift is unmistakable.

This is cattle country: a landscape of rolling hills, dusty roads, gentle riverbends, and valleys that stretch toward the horizon. The distances are real in this part of the range, but movement is no longer the whole story. Gentler days on the road and horseback give way to time at tables, in thunderous waterfalls, and on shaded front porches.

Contrasts are part of the charm of the Sertão. Hot springs and pool bars emerge improbably from dusty lowlands. Weekenders and mystics rub shoulders with miners and ranchers. Waterfalls alternate between sacred and beach scene.

Evenings become something to look forward to. Meals linger. Swims happen twice. Rest and recalibration become part of the experience.

By the time we begin the long journey east toward Diamantina, most people find they’re in no particular hurry to leave.

Days 23–27 | 70.5 km

Secret river valleys and thunderous falls.
Forgotten mining towns and living quilombola communities.
Wood-fired meals. Quiet homestays.
A slave-built highway descending toward the City of Diamonds.

North and northwest of Diamantina, the range grows quieter.

Weathered mining districts sit beside quilombola flower-picker hamlets and secluded homesteads. Trails once busy with miners, traders, and travelers have long since overgrown. Places that once stood near the center of the world now feel distant even from Diamantina.

The contrasts are subtler here than in the Sertão, but no less revealing. Abandoned quarries hide beneath clear-water pools. Fallen bridges sit along exhausted rivers. Former mining settlements continue to reinvent themselves.

Trail distances are shorter in the final stretch of the expedition than elsewhere, but the terrain rarely makes them feel that way. Histories that feel far away in other parts of the Espinhaço remain surprisingly close at hand here.

By the time we begin the final descent toward Diamantina, the range reads differently than it did at the beginning.

We’ve been immersed in the story of Brazil for weeks.

This is where it begins to echo.

Days 1 & 27–28 | 547 km overland

Baroque churches and white-washed casarões.
Motoboys and market stalls.
Becos and boemía.
Music drifting from balconies after dark.

Diamantina frames the expedition.

It’s where we begin, and it’s where we return. And after weeks in the range, it often reads differently.

By now we’ve traversed the valleys that sustained it. We’ve met the families whose ancestors mined the diamonds, cut the stone, carried the goods, and built the roads that lead here.

On Vesperata night, red ropes appear. Balconies fill and tables spill into the streets. Music drifts through narrow alleyways as locals, students, and well-dressed visitors sing along beneath the glow of old streetlights.

The scene is festive, familiar, and unmistakably Diamantina.

The city hasn’t changed.

Perhaps our understanding of it has.

Transfers to and from Belo Horizonte mark the formal edges of the journey. What remains is perspective.

Small, family-run inns are a cornerstone of travel in Brazil.

Some are simple and homey. Others feel more carefully designed or restored. Nearly all reflect the people who built them.

Welcoming hosts, thoughtful details, and cafés da manhã worth waking up for tend to come with the territory.

After long days on the trail, a hot shower, a soft bed, and freshly baked pão de queijo in the morning are often all the luxury we need.

Bom descanso.

The trail will test us, and the peaks and waterfalls will leave their mark. In our experience, though, it’s the evenings spent breaking bread with local families—sometimes well into the night—that stay with us the longest.

Conditions vary from home to home, but the welcome rarely does. Meals arrive generous and unhurried, and conversation often continues long after plates are cleared.

These households are part of the fabric of the range. Our stays support families whose livelihoods shifted with the decline of mining, and help sustain a culture that still values memory, place, and hospitality.

Years from now, it’s usually the homestays you remember most.

Sometimes the landscape itself becomes home for the night.

During longer stretches of wilderness, we pitch tents alongside quiet rivers, in high savannah clearings, and in places that have sheltered travelers for generations.

We cook simply, share drinks by the fire, dry our boots nearby, and watch the light leave the mountains.

Not every night in the range is rustic.

At times, the route brings us to guest ranches, historic villas, and rural retreats built for leisure, wellness, and rest. These places are part of the region too.

Experiencing them in contrast to the backcountry doesn’t dull the senses. It sharpens them.

After days of dust, distance, and simple living, a comfortable room, a long shower, and a slow evening have a way of putting the rest of the crossing into perspective.

Unlike homestays, where we’re welcomed into someone else’s household, these are homes temporarily entrusted to us: historic townhouses, vacant ranches, and guesthouses that allow us to settle in for a night.

After days spent moving through the range and being received by others, there’s something satisfying about being able to close the door behind us, spread out, and make ourselves at home.

The “chalets” at Rio Preto State Park are simple, practical structures designed for one purpose: putting travelers within walking distance of some of the Espinhaço’s finest rivers, swimming holes, waterfalls, and trails.

The rooms are comfortable, but won’t win any design awards. Fortunately, that's not why we’re here.

A short walk from your front door lies white sand, pristine pools, waterfalls, and three full days in one of the most beloved conservation units in the range.

Some of our favorite places to sleep in the range are also among the simplest.

Scattered across remote valleys, high savannah plateaus, and working landscapes, these small structures offer shelter, a place to gather, and a glimpse into the lives of the people who know these places best.

They are rarely luxurious. Most consist of little more than a roof, walls, and a front door.

Location is the luxury here. Silence comes standard.

Call it a budget hotel. Call it a business hotel. We just call it the hotel.

Located near the main praça in Santo Antônio do Itambé, Hotel Pé da Serra gives us exactly what we need: a clean room, a hot shower, a simple breakfast, and a good night’s sleep.

There are certainly more beautiful places to stay in the range—and even in town.

On a long crossing through the Espinhaço, though, spending a night in the kind of hotel that a working Brazilian might actually stay in feels just as important to the story as sleeping in wilderness camps, historic homes, or remote ranches.

We’ll stay in all kinds of places during the expedition. None of them will remind you of Pé de Serra.

Expedition Leader + Country Guide + Translator (Full-Time)

The bumper sticker on his ’89 Toyota Bandeirante (Brazilian Land Cruiser) may read “Lost Texan”, but don’t be fooled: Dallas-born Eddie has dedicated himself to the study of Brazilian history, society, and geography since arriving with a surfboard and $800 in 2002.

He first found his way to the Espinhaço in 2018 and has spent the years since documenting its unforgettable characters and labyrinth of forgotten trails.

The only thing he enjoys more than exploring this remarkable and little-known part of the world is bringing it to life for travelers who want to experience and understand it, not just pass through.

Expedition Leader + Country Guide +Translator (Full-Time)

The first time Elisa encountered the daunting “roads” of São Gonçalo do Rio das Pedras during a weekend getaway in 2019, she swore to her mom she would never come back.

These days, she can’t seem to leave the Espinhaço, having spent the better part of her life since then driving all manner of backroads in a gangly leaf-sprung 4x4 named “Gaucha”—usually with various drones, satellite devices, emergency contacts, and communications equipment in tow.

Bringing itineraries of this scope to life in this part of the world requires determination, planning, communication, patience, and the kind of vision that sees adventure where others see obstacles. The rest of us just require Elisa.

Regional Guide + Naturalist (Full-Time)

The difference between a good guide and a great one is calling. In Júlio’s case, there was never a question.

Deeply knowledgeable, energetic, and committed to the places he works in, he brings both his experience in the mountains and his degree in Geography to every journey.

When the brush is thick, snakes abound, the light is fading, and there are still kilometers ahead, there’s no one we’d rather have beside us.

Overland Driver (Full-Time)

The eldest son of Diamantina’s most celebrated 4x4 family, Xaxau carries himself with a quiet confidence that comes from knowing exactly what he’s doing. One of the region’s most seasoned mechanics and welders, he’s also an expert rider of horses, motorcycles, and—lucky for us—vintage 4x4s.

You’ll see Xaxau and Gaúcha during long overland crossings, but it’s the moments when you don’t see him—driving parallel to our route somewhere out beyond the horizon—that put us most at ease. In the unlikely event of an emergency, there’s no one we’d rather have nearby.

Overland Driver (Full-Time)

Perón drives just about anything that moves—jeeps, trucks, boats, motorcycles—and has spent decades fixing them all. His knowledge of the Cerrado and its inhabitants runs just as deep. He’s also an accomplished fisherman, and (as you might expect) a gifted storyteller.

When Michel first told us about his vivacious, history-loving uncle, we couldn’t wait to meet him. What we found was one of the kindest, most deeply respectful, and most reliable men in the range—and a perfect fit for this crew.

You'll see plenty of Perón throughout the crossing, whether on overland sections, at camp, or waiting for us at the end of a long day.

Support Driver (Full-Time)

A year abroad in Australia showed Michel the power of travel, and convinced him that his hometown of Diamantina deserved to be rediscovered. Since then, he’s become one of the most renowned photographers in the Espinhaço, documenting the region’s people and everyday life.

On our crew, Michel brings that same perspective—along with his fluency in English, his love of cultura mineira, and a natural ability to connect people to the place around them.

There are worse ways to spend a long drive through the backlands than listening to Michel talk about the place he calls home.

Support Driver (Full-Time)

A soft-spoken motorcycle enthusiast from Diamantina’s most celebrated family of 4x4 mechanics, André combines small-town roots with a love for the wider world. He’s a devoted P.E. teacher in the region, but it’s his instinctive feel for vehicles and terrain—and his dirt bike skills—that brought him onto our crew.

As the motorcycle rescue driver, his presence runs quietly alongside the route. If you see him on the trail, don’t panic. You’re already being taken care of.

Local Guide + Mule Driver

A local legend on par with the mountain that towers above his home, Santo spent decades driving mules from the quilombola hamlet of Bica d’Agua to Diamantina and back as one of the Espinhaço’s last tropeiros.

Today, he’s best known for receiving and guiding those who make the crossing from Bica d’Água to Chapada do Couto.

Stoic and hardened, yet soft-spoken and graceful, his backcountry skills are unmatched—and his camp grub isn’t half bad either.

Our crossing through the highlands brings us to Santo’s doorstep, where Dona Maria’s wood-fired stove is the stuff of regional lore.

Herbalist + Local Guide

A journalist by training and a farmer by practice, Marcos has spent more than three decades working with medicinal plants.

Despite the depth of his knowledge, he returns again and again to what he calls the “simple”—small practices that, in his experience, remain the most effective.

On the trail, he moves easily between stories and plants, drawing from years of travel through the Cerrado and a lifelong habit of paying attention.

We'll have the privilege of walking alongside him through the serra above São Gonçalo do Rio das Pedras.

Local Guide

On expeditions, as in life, you want resilient, kind-hearted people beside you—people who’ve done it themselves and want to see you succeed.

Genésio is one of them.

A Park Ranger from a family of Itambé guardians, he knows the mountain better than anyone. We'll have the pleasure of walking alongside him on the slopes of Itambé.

Local Guide / Horsemen (Chapter I)

Gracious, thoughtful, and humble, with a quiet serenity that draws you in, Valdir is the kind of guide who saves his stories for those who seek them.

For over a decade, he’s tended the remote Fazenda Santa Cruz do Gavião alone. When we pass through, it’s often simply to enjoy his company.

As our route ventures into the quieter corners of the serra, a visit to Valdir is always a gift.

There are few people we’d rather walk, ride, or sit beside a stove with.

Herbalist + Local Guide

Raised in what is now Rio Preto State Park, Deco knows the landscape in a way that could only come from a lifetime spent inside of it.

A self-taught expert in the flora of the Cerrado, he can name nearly every plant in sight—in Latin—and usually has a story to go with it.

On the trail, he’s all movement and conversation. You'll get to see for yourself as the expedition makes its way through Rio Preto State Park.

Local Guide

Humble, self-educated, and full of stories, Barbosa grew up in a tiny quilombola village where money was unheard of and diamonds flowed through the sand.

Together with his late wife, Lúcia, he helped bring visibility to Inhaí—its history, its people, and its place within the region. Today, he carries that work forward, sharing both the stories of the community and the landscape that shaped it.

We'll have the privilege of hearing those stories firsthand as we cross the eastern borderlands of Sempre Vivas.

Local Guide + Boatman

Gracious and soft-spoken, yet adventurous and lighthearted, Gomercindo knows the river like a second home.

A former miner turned farmer, he’s spent his life along the banks of the Inhacica Grande—a river as pristine as it is little known.

As the expedition takes to the water, he'll be beside us, part guide and part guardian.

Boatman + Porter

In a region long defined by beans and corn, Deraldo went a different direction: broccoli.

His harvests have reshaped regional school lunches—and local thinking. A lifelong resident of the Inhacicão, he knows the river intimately, and runs one of the few working outboards in the region.

As we navigate the eastern boarderlands of Sempre Vivas, chances are he’ll be at the helm.

Local Guide

The lone resident of a remote ranch deep in one of the wildest corners of the Cerrado, Levi is a living legend in the borderlands.

A full day’s walk from his nearest neighbor, he lives a life few can fathom—self-reliant, solitary, and deeply tied to the land.

Reaching him is a journey. Listening to his stories is the reward.

Porter

Despite growing up along the Inhacicão, Esdra had never hiked with a pack or seen the mountaintop fields where his father, Gomerindo, was raised.

That changed in 2024, when he joined us on an expedition as a last-minute porter. He carried more than expected—and came back for more.

We'll be grateful for that enthusiasm and resilience as the crossing climbs into the high savannah of Sempre Vivas.

Local Guide + Horseman

Born and raised in Curimataí, Tau spent years navigating life in Belo Horizonte before returning to the Espinhaço to pursue something quieter.

Today, he and his wife Gilma run our favorite pousada west of Sempre Vivas—where we’re always happy to sleep, and especially to eat, when the route allows.

Equal parts outdoorsman, bon vivant, and natural host, Tau will ride alongside those who choose to travel the sunlit roads of the Sertão by saddle.

Local Guide + Horseman

A stoic cowboy with the instincts of a guardian, Alvimar battles wildfires in the backcountry of Sempre Vivas in his spare time, and knows the Park’s western frontier as well as anyone.

These days, he lives a quieter life on his ranch north of Curimataí—but when the call comes, he still rides.

We'll have the pleasure of riding alongside him as the expedition descends toward the western lowlands.

Local Guide + Horseman

Cool, confident, and naturally charismatic, Pê has been guiding and hosting our crew in the high western campos since the very beginning.

Raised in the one-family outpost of Santa Rita, he served multiple tours as a park firefighter before returning to ranch life full-time. Today, he’s known across the region for his horsemanship.

We'll spend time with Pê in Santa Rita as the crossing moves through the western lowlands.

Local Guide + Horseman

One of the last remaining residents of Sempre Vivas, Dorico lives alone at the foot of Serra da Gambá, walking an hour each way to the village of Macacos.

Soft-spoken and gracious, with a lightness that belies his solitude, he carries the history of the highlands in the way he moves.

Few people know the Rio Preto Valley better. Crossing it in his company is a privilege.

Local Guide + Horseman

Like many of his generation from São João da Chapada, João left home in search of opportunity, living and working for years in São Paulo, Paraguay, and beyond. Unlike most, he returned.

Well-traveled and full of stories, he brings both experience and presence to the trail.

As the expedition moves through some of the lesser-known corners of the range, you'll understand why we value his company.