A forgotten wonderland. And the stage for everything to come.

An unfathomably large (New Jersey-sized) swath of protected wonderland gushing with green mountain vistas, white sand waterfalls, cola-colored rivers, one of the highest concentrations of species endemism on the planet, a tantalizing lost network of historic trails… and virtually no tourism.

Welcome to the spectacular, undiscovered Mosaic of the Espinhaço: 19 adjacent conservation units totaling 5 million acres of protected Cerrado & Mata Atlântica — including a National Park, multiple State & Municipal Parks, and other reserves — with little to no tourism infrastructure.

For lovers of untouched wilderness, unadulterated culture, unbridled adventure, and (let’s just say it) life itself, this is the stuff of dreams.

Three centuries of movement. Three years of rediscovery.

Getting from point A to point B has always been an adventure in the Espinhaço, and nowhere is this more evident than along its spectacular — and virtually empty — network of historic trails.

Among the many types of trails we follow:
• Colonial-era stone paths, built by enslaved Africans to facilitate the diamond trade
• Mule-driving tropeiro trails, carved for regional commerce
• Hidden smuggler routes, rediscovered by 18th-century naturalists

Our team has spent over three years rediscovering this lost network — documenting its history, nature, and inhabitants, and charting our expeditions. As much as we’ve loved having the trail to ourselves, it’s a greater pleasure to share it with other curious, adventurous minds.

More life than land. More urgency than time.

The Espinhaço accounts for less than 1% of Brazil’s national territory — and over 7% of its species, with an estimated 3,000+ of them found nowhere else on earth.

Sadly, this rich, otherworldly terrain is under serious threat. The Cerrado (one of the two biomes to which the Espinhaço Meridional belongs) is being deforested at more than double the rate of the Amazon, and in recent decades has experienced a sharp decline in rainfall.

Enjoy it while it’s here, like this, right now.

The Espinhaço’s answer to sun, sea & sand.

Take it from us: attempting to count the waterfalls of the Espinhaço is an exercise in futility. Just as futile: trying to spend more than a day or two on the trail without bathing in one.

We’ll pass dozens of named falls during the Expedition — from soothing, cola-colored cascades to show-stopping, white sand-beach masterpieces, and everything in between.

Whether you’re the take-it-all-in-from-a-comfortable-rock type, the tip-toe-and-wince type, or the cannonball-and-cold-plunge type, it doesn’t get better than this.

“Ice-cold” has never felt so good.

An early test. And a view that keeps going.

One of the ironies of summiting mighty Itambé (on Day 5) is that the view from the top — stunning as it is — doesn’t include Itambé itself.

Meanwhile, just 20 kilometers away, unassuming Pico do Raio (literally, “Lightning Peak”; 1,387 m) serves up an unbeatable view of Itambé, along with the colonial-era hamlets of São Gonçalo, Milho Verde, and Capivari — while doubling as our Expedition’s first real vertical test (on Day 4).

The trail up isn’t just scenic — it’s cinematic: sweeping views, historic paths, and flower-strewn fields mark the way. After the descent, a different kind of reward awaits: white sand beach, gently flowing waterfall, and a natural infinity pool — all in one.

Itambé is iconic. Pico Dois Irmãos (Day 6) is can’t-miss.
But don’t sleep on the little peak.
Consider it a sign of beautiful things to come.

A world traveler’s dream — hidden in plain sight.

UNESCO World Heritage City. Terminus of the Estrada Real. Bastion of Portuguese colonial architecture. Former diamond-mining capital of the world. Shining exemplar of the “diamond in the rough” cliché.

Somehow, little Diamantina (pop. 49,500) manages to be all this and more — a burgeoning college town, a musical capital, and a cultural crossroads — while remaining virtually undiscovered, even by Brazilians.

Add it all up, and you have a bona fide world traveler’s dream: a tourist mecca without tourists, smack in the middle of one of the most enchanting settings on earth.

A mountain. A monument. And a milestone.

The region’s undisputed icon, Pico do Itambé (2,052 m) towers over the range like a watchful citadel — living up to its billing as “the roof of the Espinhaço.”

Rising 1,102 meters above the surrounding peaks, it marks a hard divide between the Jequitinhonha and Doce river basins — and a softer one between the Atlantic Rainforest and the Cerrado.

Trust us: it doesn’t matter how many “mountain climbers” you do before the trip — the ascent (on Day 5) is a challenge. But the view is unforgettable. And the golden hour descent? Glorious.

You’ll feel — and remember — every step of the way.

And then, at the bottom, we’ll (gently) remind you that the day is only half done…

Across the highlands, into Chapter II.

The first — and arguably most beloved — conservation unit in the Espinhaço Meridional, Rio Preto State Park holds over 26,000 acres of immaculate cerrado, including a pristine stretch of its namesake river and some of the region’s most remarkable waterfalls.

We’ll spend three glorious days (Days 6, 7, and 8) — including our lone Rest Day — crossing the Park from its hauntingly beautiful, little-visited southern reaches to its spectacular, water-blessed north. Along the way: sweeping canyons, steep escarpments, fast-moving rivers, funky hoodoos, and some of the prettiest waterfalls in the range.

If it weren’t for the rolling fields of campo limpo and the groves of sempre-vivas, you might swear we were in the American Southwest.

It’s a feast for the senses — and the perfect place to catch our breath before beginning our westward march towards Diamantina.

A high point. And a turning point.

Twin peaks, attached at the hip, tower over the wind-swept high plateau at the southern edge of Rio Preto State Park — dividing the Black and Araçuai river basins in the process.

Known for centuries as Serra Grande (“Big Mountain”) by those in the valley below — who could only see the taller twin — Pico Dois Irmãos (1,825 m) is the third-highest peak in the Espinhaço Meridional. It’s also one of the most rewarding: a day-long, graceful approach leads to a short, satisfying climb and a panoramic view that speaks for itself.

It’s the pinnacle of one of the most exhilarating days of our expedition — the kind of day we’d live every day.

If our pace is good, we’ll reach the summit during golden hour on Day 6.
And then, a whole different kind of adventure begins: a starlight-and-headlamps journey to Mozart’s tiny ranch house below.

Prosa, carinho, and cafézinho.

Minas Gerais is Brazil’s heartland, and mineiros (its denizens) play the part of heartland hosts to a T.

Easygoing, down-to-earth, and famously chatty, with a well-documented love of food and drink — especially comida mineira, café, and cachaça — they are to friendly what paulistas (residents of São Paulo) are to fast-paced, and cariocas (from Rio) are to carefree.

No one stays a stranger for long in Minas — and even less so in the Espinhaço.
Generally speaking, you won’t find a kinder or more welcoming bunch anywhere in Brazil.

Doorways into the world around us.

The trail will test us. The peaks and waterfalls will leave us in awe.
In our experience, though, it’s the evenings spent breaking bread with local families — sometimes well into the night — that provide the most enriching and memorable moments of our expedition.

It’s impossible to come away unimpressed by the foreign, often rustic conditions, and the gracious, open-hearted dispositions of the many households we’ll visit.

These homes — and the people inside them — are part of the fabric of the journey. Our presence supports families whose livelihoods shifted with the decline in mining, and helps sustain a culture that values both memory and place.

We’ll stay in all kinds of accommodations during our expedition. We’re willing to bet that, years from now, it will be the homestays that still cross your mind daily.

Wood-fired grub. Ice-cold beer. Feasts for the soul.

Tropeiro. Torresmo. Frango com quiabo.
If you’re unfamiliar with comida mineira, you will be by the end of the trip — and Brazilians everywhere will be jealous.

Among the regional treats unique to the Espinhaço: angu, quitanda, samambaia, and queijo do Serro.

Most nights, we’ll arrive to piping hot plates of highly caloric, lovingly prepared meals — cooked by skilled hands in well-seasoned cast-iron pots over open flame.
With a pair of more sophisticated offerings in Diamantina to book-end the trip, the spectrum comes full circle.

Throw in a few ice-cold Antarcticas, and let’s just say we rarely meet our weight-loss goals on these expeditions.
It’s worth it.

Bom apetit!

Delicate. Enduring. And rooted in something deeper.

The namesake flower of Sempre Vivas National Park is as woven into the identity of the Espinhaço as the diamonds that once sustained it.

Of the roughly 100 species that exist, 60 have been documented inside the Park. Eight are found nowhere else on earth.

Harvesting these flowers — recognized by UNESCO as a Globally Important Agricultural Heritage System — is more than a livelihood. It’s a lineage.

We’ll leave the harvesting to those who know it best — but we’ll pass plenty along the trail: button-sized blooms, starbursts, tree-like stalks topped with globes of white. Once you start noticing them, you won’t unsee them.

Flower-spotting has a way of making even the most arduous days on the trail joyous.
We dare you not to light up every time you pass one up close.

A place so special we call it home.

Even in a region brimming with picture perfect colonial-era towns, São Gonçalo do Rio das Pedras (official pop. 1,479) manages to feel special. The former mining district is rustic, yet elegant; simple, yet mysterious; with a tranquility that lends itself to restful healing and a vibrance that beckons further exploration. There is magic in the air here, and residents know it.

Arriving to a piping hot plate of home-cooked comida mineira at the local pub after nightfall on Day 3 is literally the stuff we live for — the perfect ending to a storybook day.

You may arrive exhausted, but if you’re anything like us, you’ll rarely have felt so alive.

Welcome to the Story of Brazil.

A choose-your-own adventure for the ages.

If you’ve ever dreamed of steadying a sturdy steed through the brush, rivers, and rocky mountain passes of the Brazilian hinterlands — now’s your chance.

Our epic traverse of the steep & spectacular Mato dos Crioulos region (on Day 7) can be done either by foot or on horseback.

Prefer to hoof it yourself? Our pack mules will carry the weight (and sometimes lead the way).

Either way, we recommend you catch your breath, take in the scenery, and immerse yourself in the long, winding legacy of tropeirismo.

Memory, resilience, and the road less traveled.

The discovery of diamonds in the Espinhaço changed the fortunes of Europe — and the fate of Africa. Today’s quilombola communities bear quiet witness.

Founded by escaped or formerly enslaved Africans or their descendants prior to the 19th century, these semi-autonomous settlements remain scattered across the Espinhaço and the Jequitinhonha River Valley — often tucked deep in the mountains or hidden along forgotten roads.

The region is home to more than 80 official quilombos, and many more unofficial ones. Sleepy, unpretentious, and almost always framed by stunning scenery, they offer a rare window into the cultural complexity of Brazil — and the quiet strength of community.

We’ll have the privilege of passing through several quilombola villages during our Expedition, overnighting in two of them. Spending time in the Espinhaço’s hidden hearts is a profound — and profoundly enriching — experience.

Iconic silhouette. Zero crowds.

It doesn’t matter how you get there, or from which direction you come — the Serra da Maravilha (literally, Marvelous Mountain) is a sight to behold.

Strikingly similar to Rio de Janeiro’s far more famous Sugarloaf — but with a million fewer visitors — this postcard-perfect peak and the tiny hamlet below it (pop. <10) are little known even in the immediate region.

We’ll take in the view from a variety of angles during our journey on Day 3. One glance at that uncanny silhouette rising from the range, and the name will make perfect sense.

Marvelous, indeed.

A vila between two worlds.

Just a stone’s throw from the liveliness of Diamantina, Biribiri State Park is the Espinhaço’s most visited conservation unit — and somehow still feels like a secret.

With 42,000 acres of preserved cerrado, a historic textile mill-turned-village, and a pair of highly Instagrammed (and deeply swimmable) waterfalls, it attracts plenty of weekenders. But most stick to the road, roadside falls, and local pub (craft brews, anyone?) — which means there's a good chance we'll have one last day of quiet, empty trails before descending into town on Day 11.

Historic yet modern, rustic yet comfortable, tucked between wilderness and civilization, the vila feels like a segue back to society…

It’s the perfect place to spend our penultimate night — and our final evening on the trail together.

A chance to touch time.

The peaks and Parks may get more glory, but nothing shaped this region — or its fortunes — more than the rivers that run through it. And none more so than the Jequitinhonha.

Solemn and dignified, even after centuries of extraction and neglect, its diamond-rich waters once ran strong enough to buoy a distant empire and cradle a nation.

Even today, scarred and overlooked, it sustains more than half a million Brazilians living downstream.

In theory, we’ll cross enough rivers, creeks, and streams during our trek for it to “get old.” There’s something about gazing on the Jequitinhonha from its banks, though — then stepping into it — that will always feel special.

You’ll get to experience it for yourself during our wild and unforgettable Day 3.

A path carved in stone — and memory.

Most of Brazil’s colonial-era roads — and certainly the most beautiful ones — were built by enslaved people. But in the Espinhaço, the term Caminho dos Escravos (literally, “Slave Way”) refers specifically to a 20-kilometer stretch of stone path leading north from Diamantina to the solemn, once-prolific mining district of Mendanha (pop. 639).

As notorious for its steep ascent as for its history of exploitation — slave-drivers, bandits, and miners made up much of its early traffic — the Caminho remains a stark and sobering reminder of what Brazil was, and how it got there. Today, it’s also one of the most remarkable surviving examples of colonial roadwork in the country.

We’ll have the privilege of walking parts of it twice: first, on Day 10 en route to Biribiri; and again, on Day 11 — our final day on trail. It’s hard to imagine a more meaningful way to end a journey in this part of the world.

To Brazil. To the Espinhaço. To life.

From diamonds and stately architecture to former presidents and raucous Carnaval celebrations, Diamantina has no shortage of claims to fame.

It’s perhaps a bit ironic (and endearing?) then, that its most beloved tradition is the humble Vesperata: a festive nighttime serenade by the hometown band — where the musicians play from balconies and windows, and the audience listens from the cobblestone streets below.

We’ll have the privilege of catching a Vesperata on the evening of Day 11. Prepare yourself for an unforgettable evening of Beatles, samba & bossa nova, Música Popular Brasileira (MPB), and sing-along wedding rock tunes.

There may be more finely tuned orchestras.
But there isn’t a party on earth where we’d rather celebrate the final night of our Expedition together.