7 days | 128 km | 9,873 m cumulative elevation change

White-sand waterfalls clear enough to drink from.
Cola-colored rivers cutting through quartzite ridgelines.
Long climbs into open campos, and quiet villages that feel more like pauses than destinations.

The first week establishes the rhythm of the expedition. Elevation accumulates quickly in the southeastern highlands. Paths rise across exposed slopes of campos limpos and rupestres, and fall into valleys punctuated by lush Atlantic forest. The views are wide and unbroken. Terrain alternates between demanding and generous: red dirt, white sand, slick rock, and loose gravel underfoot.

We follow old tropeiro routes, local footpaths, stretches of Estrada Real, and newly formed conservation trails that move between inhabited land and preserved ground without clear boundary. Villages appear gradually, often after hours of ascent or descent, and disappear just as quietly.

Three summits arrive in close succession. None are technical. All are honest. The effort compounds in the Serra, as does the landscape.

Evenings are a source of joy. Not because they are spectacular, but because they are unhurried. They are also revealing. Simple, wood-fired meals cooked by families who have done so for generations. Stories surface naturally. The body begins to adjust to walking as a daily condition rather than an event. Sleep often arrives early.

By the end of this chapter, the expedition no longer feels like a sequence of days. It feels like the natural pace of life here.

2 days / 55 km / 1,342 m cum. elev. gain + loss

A long stretch of exposed backroad links the southeastern highlands to Sempre Vivas National Park.

The breezy ridgelines fall away. Humidity gathers. Shade thins. The walking continues across red dirt and low pasture as the terrain transitions toward river country.

These are connective miles. Less dramatic than the peaks, less austere than the wilderness to come, but no less part of the crossing. A pair of small, little-visited colonial districts receive us quietly.

Evenings are simple, unhurried, and grounded in the everyday life of the range.

The expedition doesn’t pause here. It connects.

3 days | 55.5 km | 3,030 m cum. elev. gain + loss

Overgrown trails and sharp vegetation.
Buriti palms rising from saturated veredas.
Café-tinged streams that run clear, even when the path does not.

The steep quartzite plateaus and headwater areas west of the Serra offer a different picture of the high savannah.

Here, trails vanish and reappear. Grass cuts at shin height. Tunnel-like gallery forests disorient, and peat bogs provide little stability underfoot. Progress is measured here not in distance, but in time and effort. Heat lingers in the open stretches. Shade comes and goes.

Sempre Vivas National Park demands presence, but it rewards persistence. Capões de mata rise from the smallest streams. Fields of wildflowers appear behind nameless peaks. Little-seen waterfalls interrupt the effort.

The Park is vast and sparsely inhabited. A handful of flower-pickers move seasonally through its highlands, sleeping in rock shelters and dwellings that long predate the Park’s designation. Visitation is rare.

We camp near streams, abandoned ranch houses, and small shacks under open sky. Campfires become part of the rhythm. Pack animals assist with shared gear, but the miles remain yours.

Days in Sempre Vivas differ from those in the Serra. The landscape is often more foreground than background. The walking asks for presence, not cardio.

By the time we leave, the rhythm of the expedition has shifted again. The body is tired in a different way. The senses, heightened.

4 days | 61 km | 2,703 m cum. elev. gain + loss

Dust roads and open pasture.
Company towns and cattle country.
Waterfalls breaking clean from the escarpment. One that stops you where you stand.

In the lowlands west of Sempre Vivas, the horizon widens but the walking continues. Distances lengthen. The terrain opens, and the pace shifts subtly.

Leaving the Park brings a different kind of relief. The urgency of overgrown trails gives way to the steady meditation of open dirt roads.

Small towns appear gradually after long stretches on foot. Curious onlookers, welcoming hosts, shaded porches, home-cooked meals.

A former company town turned getaway for the wealthy offers hot springs, private waterfalls, and a pool bar—a reminder that leisure and labor coexist uneasily here. A windswept outpost between mountain and lowland reminds that faith, cattle, and family remain pillars of rural life in Brazil. Beyond, an arduous approach leads to a cascade so complete it reframes the scale of the range. The impact is less spectacle than shock. The body arrives before the mind does.

The walking is pilgrimesque in the Sertão: distance, purpose, rhythm. The way is red, flat, and dusty. Shaded river bends, grazing land, and rolling hills define the way. Waterfalls—fresh off the escarpment—provide reprieve from the heat.

Evenings linger longer here. The porches, meals, and pools do work. The body adjusts. As the expedition turns eastward again, it does so restored.

4 days | 52 km | 2,884 m cum. elev. gain + loss

Secret river valleys and thunderous falls.
Forgotten mining towns and living quilombola communities.
Stone roads. Wood-fired meals.
A long descent toward Diamantina.

North and northwest of Diamantina, the terrain narrows again. Historic trails, long overgrown, wind alongside white-sand riverbanks. They cross and recross familiar cola-tinged waters, then climb gradually toward high campos once bustling with cattle and trade.

Some paths are guided by those who have walked them longest. Flower-pickers and ranch families remain quiet custodians of routes that no longer serve commerce but still hold memory.

The walking in this corner of the Espinhaço feels layered. Bogs belie the surface. Abandoned quarries sit beside grazing land. Slave-built roads descend through quartzite. The past doesn’t announce itself loudly; it’s underfoot.

Evenings in small quilombola villages are peaceful and unhurried. Homes are modest. Meals are simple. Light is limited.

After weeks on the trail, the final days feel natural. The descent toward Diamantina reads differently now. What once seemed scenic feels structural.

The expedition closes not with spectacle, but with coherence.

2 days | 547 km (Overland)

Portuguese colonial architecture.
Cobblestone streets.
A city shaped by diamonds and distance.

Diamantina bookends the expedition.

After weeks in small villages and working landscapes, the city feels different. Architecture that once seemed picturesque now reads as product. Market squares hold older histories. Festivities unfold atop foundations that took generations to build.

On Vesperata night, balconies fill and tables line the streets. Music carries across cobblestone. Visitors arrive dressed for the occasion. The scene is vibrant, familiar, and layered.

We’ve walked the backlands that sustained it. We’ve met the families whose ancestors cut the stone, mined the diamonds, and carried the goods along the routes that lead here.

The city hasn’t changed. We have.

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

The trails will challenge us, and the peaks & waterfalls will leave us in awe, but in our experience, it’s the time we spend breaking bread with local families—sometimes well into the night—that provides the most enriching & memorable moments of any trip in this part of the world.

As if good company, unique accommodations, and home-cooked meals weren’t reason enough to embrace the experience, our patronage provides precious income opportunities for each of the households we visit—several of whose livelihoods changed dramatically in recent decades with the decline in mining—and helps build a culture that values the region’s overlooked history & natural environment.

We’ll stay in an incredibly diverse array of unique & memorable places during our Expedition. We’re willing to bet that, years from now, it will be the homestays that still cross your mind daily.

Pousadas are synonymous with travel in Brazil—the rare institutions capable of transcending age, class, and generation.

Welcoming hosts, personal touches, and cafés da manha worth waking up for are the main hallmarks of these small, family-run inns — many of which are lifelong dreams brought to life by their owners.

We’ll have the privilege of staying in five unique pousadas during our Expedition — from chic historic inns to low-key country charmers. By and large, they represent some of our very favorite places to sleep — and eat — in the region.

Bom descanso!

Charming pousadas & heartwarming homestays connect us deeply to Brazil’s culture & history, but it wouldn’t be a GOGO trip without at least one night in the middle of nowher—er, the middle of nature. Lucky us, we’ll have 4 such opportunities during our Expedition.

When it comes to memorability (and, let’s be honest—location), there’s simply nothing like camping in the wilderness, be it alongside a hidden waterfall in the pristine savannah wilderness, underneath a moonlit sky in the flowery high campos, or huddled by the fire in a Tolkienesque river valley.

The Espinhaço is beautiful, and few experience it like this. It’s a privilege to be able to experience it alongside you.

You can’t tell the Story of Brazil without touching on its socioeconomic contrasts.

Wilderness shelters, historic inns, and rural homestays each offer a window — but so do a few nights of (decidedly rural) Brazilian-style opulence.

Enter Santa Bárbara: a historic textile mill turned hot springs resort “town,” nestled deep in the Sertão. With swimming pools, gourmet pubs, poolside bars, photogenic (if lukewarm) hot springs, and a resplendent waterfall, it’s as much an experience as it is a place—and honestly, it’s unmissable as both.

We’ll spend back-to-back nights here (Days 14 & 15), including one of our Expedition’s two Rest Days. There’s a lot to take in. We’ll do our best.

As AirBnB can attest, sometimes the best way to experience a place is as one of the neighbors. We’ll have the privilege of overnighting in a pair of very different, but equally charming homes during our Expedition.

Unlike homestays (in which the household is present & receives us), our group will have these places all to ourselves, allowing us to literally make ourselves at home.

The fact that the stays happen to nearly bookmark our time together (one is on Day 2 and the other on Day 18) is serendipitous, as both homes lend themselves exceedingly well to evenings of celebration, reflection, and rest.

State Park lodgings tend to be hit-or-miss affairs in Brazil, with many Parks lacking the funds necessary to provide appetizing public facilities.

Rio Preto is not one of those Parks. With dozens of expertly located, well-kept “chalets” (really, simple rooms with private baths), Rio Preto isn’t just considered among the most welcoming Parks in Minas — it’s the gold standard in the Espinhaço.

We’ll have the pleasure of spending 3 full days and nights — including one of our 2 dedicated Rest Days — in the Park, including a pair of nights at the main visitor’s area.

With virtually endless nearby water attractions (pristine swimming holes, waterfalls, white sand beaches, etc.), a well-groomed grilling area, and a sometimes bustling restaurant and bar, it’s the perfect place to rest our weary feet and celebrate the end of Chapter I.

In our minds, the best accommodations are paradoxical by nature — tasked with offering both a safe haven from the world outside and an intimate glimpse into it.

Perhaps not so coincidentally, that perfectly describes the lone, iconic wilderness refuge where we’ll spend a night during the Expedition.

Nestled between springs and creeks atop a high plateau, far from civilization, it’s the most basic structured shelter we’ll use (think: roof, walls, front door, and restroom) — and perhaps the most profound.
(It’s also quite photogenic.)

If you like your accommodations with stories and soul, you’ll love it.

Expedition Leader + 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 for over two decades. He first stepped foot in the Serra do Espinhaço in 2018, and has been exploring its labyrinth of lost trails and documenting its resilient inhabitants and landscapes ever since, becoming arguably the region’s most well-versed foreigner in a century during the process. The only thing he enjoys more than exploring this spectacular and little-known part of the world is bringing it to life for other adventurous & culturally curious travelers.

Expedition Leader + Translator (Full-Time)

The first time Elisa encountered the daunting “roads” of São Gonçalo do Rio das Pedras during a fateful 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—usually with various drones, satellite devices, emergency contacts, and communications equipment in tow—in a gangly leaf-sprung 4x4 named “Gaucha”. Bringing itineraries of this scope to life in this part of the world requires steadfast determination, impeccable planning, outstanding communication, and (lots of) patience. The rest of us just require Elisa.

Regional Guide + Naturalist (Full-Time)

The difference between a good guide and a great one is the calling, and in Julio’s case, there was never a question. Passionate, dedicated, and bursting with the knowledge, energy, and conviction necessary to make the world a better place, he’s both a natural-born mountain guide & a natural-born man for others. You’ll get to witness him put both of these callings, as well as his prolific knowledge of the flora, fauna, and geography of the Espinhaço, to use throughout our Expedition. When the brush is thick and snakes abound, the sunlight is dimming and there are still long kilometers ahead, there’s no one on earth we’d rather have by our side.

Driver + Support Guide (Full-Time)

The eldest son of Diamantina’s most celebrated 4x4 dynasty, Xaxau, like his brother André, is adventure nobility without the pretension. In addition to being one of the region’s most seasoned mechanics & welders, he happens to be an expert rider of horses, motorcycles, and (lucky for us) old 4x4s. As our Expedition’s full-time support driver, we’ll hope not to see too much of Xaxau or “Gaucha” (our primary support vehicle) during our days on the trail, but it’s the moments when you don’t see him—when he’s driving parallel to our route—that puts our minds to ease. There aren’t many folks on earth we would trust with our lives. We trust Xaxau.

Driver + Support Guide (Full-Time)

A soft-spoken, big city-loving motorcycle enthusiast born into (decidedly small town) Diamantina’s most celebrated family of 4x4 mechanics, “Dezinho”, like his brother Xaxau, is adventure nobility without the pretension. He’s also a remarkable motorcycle pilot, as well as a devoted part-time P.E. teacher(!). As the official dirt bike support driver of our Expedition, we’ll hope to not see too much of André during our days on the trail, but it’s his constant, reassuring presence along the roads parallel to our route that allows us to push forwards with confidence. In the unlikely event of an emergency, there isn’t anyone we’d rather have close by.

Local Guide / Horseman / Mule Driver (Chapter I)

A local legend on par with the iconic mountain that towers above his remote abode, Santo has become synonymous with the spectacular crossing from Bica d’Agua to Rio Preto State Park. Stoic & hardened, yet soft-spoken & graceful, his backcountry skills are second to none (and his camp grub isn’t half-bad, either). There’s nothing on earth—let alone in the Espinhaço—like arriving at he & his wife, Dona Maria’s, beautiful, humble abode in paradisical Bica d’Agua after climbing (and descending) Itambé on Day 5. We’ll then trek (or ride) alongside him during Day 6 as we make our way to the region’s 2nd highest peak. If you see the man break a sweat, please let us know.

Local Guide (Chapter I)

On expeditions as in life, you should always seek to surround yourself with resilient, kind-hearted souls who have done it themselves and want to see you succeed. This is especially true when summiting foreign peaks, and when said souls have the kind of legs capable of powering up & down said peak 1,000+ times per year for two decades. Hailing from a family of Itambé guardians in nearby Capivarí, and now a full-time ranger in the State Park himself, it’s fair to say that Genésio knows Itambé better than anyone on earth. We’ll have the pleasure of walking alongside him on his home turf during Day 5 of our Expedition.

Local Guide (Chapter II)

One of the kindest, open-hearted souls we know, Barbosa grew up in a tiny quilombola community on the edge of civilization, where the lush Cerrado meets the river, the palms tower over once-diamond-rich sand banks, and money was (literally) unheard of. Today, he & his gracious wife, Lúcia, reside in nearby Inhaí, where they’re excited to receive the community’s first international visitors and share the incredible true stories of their upbringings. We’ll have the privilege of hearing those stories first-hand—both at their home in Inhaí on Day 10, and on Days 11 as we begin our ascent into Sempre Vivas.

Local Guide (Chapter II)

Few rivers on earth are at once as pristine, gorgeous, and little-known as the Inhacica Grande, and few know the “Inhacicão” or the flower-bearing campos above it as well as Gomercindo. Thoughtful & soft-spoken, yet famously adventurous & fun-loving, the former miner turned farmer has spent a lifetime on the river & its white sand banks, cultivating a symbiotic relationship with it in the process. His knowledge of the winding, overgrown eastern wildlands of Sempre Vivas is incredible… and so is his sense of humor. You’ll get to see for yourself on Days 11 & 12, as our Expedition heads into the wilderness.

Porter (Chapter II)

Esdra had never been to the flowery fields atop Sempre Vivas where his father, Gomercindo, spent summers as a child—nor had he ever hiked anywhere with a pack on—until he accompanied our Crew last-second as a porter in early 2024. He had his doubts as to whether he’d enjoy the experience (and rightfully so: how much fun does 48 hours of sweaty bushwhacking really sound to a 20-year-old?), and we had ours, too (how much weight can a rookie 20-year old really carry uphill though the wilderness?). Luckily, the experience was enlightening for all of us, and not only do we now have a new porter to help us trudge uphill on Days 11 & 12, but Esdra recently became one of the Park’s newest guides.

Porter (Chapter II)

In a remote, risk-averse farming community historically dominated by beans (with the occasional corn crop), Deraldo zagged and grew… broccoli? His successful harvests have not only improved the diets of elementary school children in nearby Diamantina, they’re disrupting long-held beliefs about the region’s agricultural potential. But Grade A broccoli isn’t the (only) reason that Deraldo is on our Crew—having grown up along the banks of the Inhacicão, he knows the eastern lands of Sempre Vivas NP like few do. We’ll trek alongside him as we journey into the high savannah hinterland on Days 11 & 12.

Local Guide (Chapter II)

The lone resident of a storied, abandoned ranch situated in one of the wildest stretches of Cerrado in Brazil—a full day’s trek through untamed brush from his closest neighbor—Levi has become something of a living legend among the folks living in the borderlands; the mere mention of his name eliciting reverence, sympathy, gossip, and outcry in short order. He is a man with stories to tell, and precious few visitors to tell them to. Spending time with him, and sharing the story of our own journey to his home, is a highlight of any trip to the region, and the stuff that lifelong memories are made of. A day with Levi is a day for the ages. We’ll have the privilege on Day 12.

Local Guide + Horseman (Chapter III)

There’s an undeniable energy born from living out one’s dream, and Tau beams it in spades. Born & raised in the impossibly quaint lowlands village of Curimataí, he spent decades as an entrepreneur in the big city rat race before finding his way back home. Today, he & his equally enterprising wife, Gilma, run our favorite pousada west of Sempre Vivas, where we’ll very happily find ourselves sleeping & dining on the evening of Day 13 (you’ll see what we mean when we get there). An avid outdoorsman & expert horseman, Tau will ride alongside those who choose to hoof it on the sun-kissed road to Santa Bárbara on Day 14.

Local Guide + Horseman (Chapter III)

Stoic, courageous, and eminently courteous, Alvimar is, in many ways, the embodiment of the idealized sertão man. A lifelong cowboy, he spent years fighting remote wildfires in Sempre Vivas, ascending & descending the Espinhaço’s rugged western escarpment and criss-crossing the Park’s little-known campos by foot & horse. Today, he wears a different hat, tending to livestock & crops on his small ranch north of Curimataí. His familiarity with the Park’s rugged western frontier and expert riding skills make him the man for the job when it comes to leading our Expedition into the lowlands on Days 12 & 13.

Local Guide + Horseman (Chapter III)

Confident, charismatic, and cool in a way that only a natural-born cowboy can be, Pê & his lovely wife, Nica, have been housing, feeding, and guiding our Crew since the early days of our explorations in the Espinhaço. Born & raised in tiny Santa Rita, on the windswept southern frontier of Sempre Vivas, Pê spent years leading firefighter crews in the Park before returning full-time to ranching, and is renown across the region for his riding—and driving—acumen. We’ll be relying on the former during our Expedition, as he leads us along the gorgeous labyrinth of trails & backroads around Cachoeira Santa Rita on Day 17.

Local Guide + Horseman (Chapter VI)

There are only 3 are residents left in Sempre Vivas National Park, and (as one might imagine) all are courageous, resilient, and remarkable. Of them, we humbly submit that Dorico may be the most sage. Hailing from the “nearby” (3-hour round-trip trek) flower-picking quilombola village of Macacos, he’s spent the past 30 years living alone in his rustic pau-a-pique home at the foot of Serra da Gamba. Warm-hearted & soft-spoken, with a striking lightness of being, he is completely, impossibly at home in a place & circumstance in which few other humans could fathom spending a single evening. We’ll have the privilege of riding alongside him during our crossing of the surreal Vale do Rio Preto on Day 18. It’s an experience to cherish.

Local Guide + Horseman (Chapter VI)

It is said that there are more former residents of Sao João da Chapada (pop. 2,000) living in a single suburb of Sao Paulo (pop. 22,000,000) than in Sao João itself, and we believe it. The creation of the Parks and subsequent prohibition of traditional ways of life—particularly, mining, hunting, and flower-picking—in their vicinity sent many able-bodied residents afar in search of jobs. All of which makes João’s decision to return to his life as a subsistence farmer in the Espinhaço so fascinating. Adventurous & well-traveled, considerate & wise, he’s a unique & compelling figure in the region, and wonderful company on the trail. Riding alongside of him & Dorico through the Vale do Rio Preto on Day 18 is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

Local Guide (Chapter VI)

At first glance, Poliana makes for an unlikely Crew Member. Born & raised in the quilombola hamlet of Quarteis do Indaia, her most pressing duties have long included raising children and tending to crops. If there’s one thing that all of our Crew Members have in common, though, it’s a passion for bringing positive change to their communities, and in that light, Poliana couldn’t be any better suited for the job. She’s also bold. In 2023, after repeated fruitless efforts by our Crew to locate the historic trail leading from her hometown to neighboring São João, she shrugged, threw on a pair of flip-flops, and led us through the overgrown brush herself. You’ll have the pleasure of walking with her—and possibly an entourage of jubilant village kids—on the same trail on Day 19.

Support Driver (Full-Time)

A year abroad in Australia taught Michel—then a biology undergrad—the power of travel, and convinced him that his hometown of Diamantina deserved to be rediscovered by the world. Since then, he’s become one of the Espinhaço’s most renown photographers, documenting its storied history and sharing striking portraits in publications like The Guardian, National Geographic Brazil, and more. You’ll get to experience his passion for cultura mineira and the good life in the Espinhaço throughout our Expedition as he transports supplies & gear to our front-country accommodations.

Transfer Driver (Days 1 & 21)

When we meet at Tancredo Neves International Airport (the rendezvous point for all of our trips in the Espinhaço) on Day 1, you’ll be forgiven for thinking we’ve brought along a personal security detail. Towering, stoic, and probably wearing a sharp pair of aviator sunglasses, our Crew’s official overland Driver, Caio, was formerly a professional mixed martial artist in his hometown of Montes Claros. Now the proud owner of a local taxi service, he is exactly the kind of serious, enterprising, and (most relevantly) punctual individual that this city—er, our Crew—needs. We’ll have the pleasure of riding with Caio (in his vehicle) to & from the airport to bookend your trip.