A vast protected landscape, and the stage for everything to come

The Serra do Espinhaço Meridional harbors a vast patchwork of protected land: nineteen conservation units and buffer zones spanning nearly five million acres of Cerrado and Atlantic Forest.

Collectively they form the Mosaic of the Espinhaço, home to one of the highest concentrations of plant endemism on Earth and one of Brazil’s least-visited protected landscapes.

For travelers drawn to untouched wilderness, unfiltered culture, and the rare pleasure of moving through a place without tourism infrastructure, this is where the story begins.

Where the past still shows the way

Getting from point A to point B has always been an adventure in the Espinhaço.

The region is threaded with a network of historic paths: colonial stone roads built by enslaved Africans, trade routes carved by mule-driving tropeiros, and smuggler trails later followed by European naturalists.

We’ve spent years exploring these routes, mapping their course, documenting their histories, and stitching together what still remains.

Many of the trails haven’t seen sustained travel in decades. Walking them today feels less like following a path than rediscovering one.

More life than land. More urgency than time.

The Espinhaço accounts for less than one percent of Brazil’s territory, yet harbors over seven percent of its species—with more than three thousand found nowhere else.

The ecosystem behind that concentration is the Campos Rupestres: a rocky, flower-strewn expression of the Cerrado so distinct it may eventually be recognized as Brazil’s newest biome.

The range also cradles the westernmost remnants of the Atlantic Forest, making it one of the few places where two critically endangered biomes meet.

It’s a landscape as fragile as it is rugged. Much of the range sits atop quartzite and ironstone, coveted by the mining industry and slow to recover from disturbance.

It’s a privilege to experience it, as it is right now.

The Espinhaço’s answer to sun, sea, and sand

Take it from us: attempting to count the waterfalls of the Espinhaço is an exercise in futility.

Just as futile is trying to spend more than a day or two on the trail without bathing in one.

Hundreds of falls spill from quartzite escarpments across the range, feeding the rivers that sustain the interior of Brazil.

We’ll pass nearly a dozen falls during the Expedition, from soothing cola-colored cascades to white-sand masterpieces.

Ice-cold has never felt so good.

A colonial gem hidden in plain sight

UNESCO World Heritage city. Terminus of the Estrada Real. Former diamond capital of the world.

Diamantina somehow manages to be all of these things at once while remaining largely unvisited, even by Brazilians.

Música Popular Brasileira drifts through stone alleyways, tropeiro fills plates, and the view out the window could pass for something painted two centuries ago.

At times, Diamantina feels like a tourist mecca awaiting its first visitors.

There’s no more fitting place to begin or end an expedition in the range.

A mountain. A monument. A milestone.

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

Rising more than a thousand meters above the surrounding peaks, it marks a hard divide between the Jequitinhonha and Doce river basins, and a softer one between the Atlantic Forest and the Cerrado.

Reaching the summit after a sustained climb is one of the most satisfying moments to be had anywhere in the Espinhaço.

Across the highlands

Rio Preto State Park was the first conservation unit in the Espinhaço Meridional, and it is still among the most beloved.

It protects more than 26,000 acres of immaculate Cerrado, as well as pristine waterways and some of the range’s most remarkable waterfalls.

We’ll spend three glorious days (Days 6, 7, and 8) crossing the Park during the expedition, from the high campos of its southern reaches to the thick forests of the north. Along the way, we’ll pass through deep canyons, steep escarpments, fast-moving rivers, and a pair of waterfalls.

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, joined at the hip, rise above the wind-swept plateau at the southern edge of Rio Preto State Park, dividing the Black and Araçuaí river basins in the process.

Known for centuries as Serra Grande (“Big Mountain”) by the residents of 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, and one of its most rewarding climbs.

A long, gradual approach across the highlands leads to a short, steep ascent and a panoramic view that needs little explanation.

It marks the high point of one of the most exhilarating days of the expedition.

Prosa, carinho, and cafézinho.

Minas Gerais is Brazil’s heartland, and mineiros (the state’s residents) are its natural hosts.

Easy-going, down-to-earth, famously chatty, and never far from a good cup of coffee or cachaça, they set the tone for life here.

The Espinhaço is still-visited enough that the people you’ll meet here will likely be mineiros: farmers, flower pickers, entrepreneurs, cowboys, homestay hosts, and kids on their way to or from school.

It’s hard to find a more welcoming group anywhere in Brazil.

Doorways into the world around us

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 runs 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.

We’ll sleep in a variety of places during the expedition. Years from now, it’s usually the homestays you remember most.

Calories for the trail. Food for the soul

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

There’s nothing like arriving to a hot plate of homemade, heartland comfort food at the end of a long day. Throw in a few ice-cold beers and the occasional cachaçinha and you’ll understand why nobody leaves Minas complaining about the food.

Weight-loss goals may suffer.
We consider that part of the experience.

Bom apetite.

Delicate flowers. An enduring lineage.

The namesake flowers of Sempre Vivas National Park are more than decoration.

Of roughly one hundred known species of sempre-vivas, more than sixty grow inside the Park and several exist nowhere else on Earth.

Harvesting them has sustained families here for generations, a tradition recognized by UNESCO as a Globally Important Agricultural Heritage System.

We leave the flower-picking to those who know it best, but if the season is right, the flower-viewing is something to see: button-sized blooms, starbursts, tall stalks crowned with white globes rising above the grass.

Once you understand the lineage behind them, they’ll never be just flowers again.

A place so special we call it home

Even in a region full of beautiful colonial-era towns, São Gonçalo do Rio das Pedras feels distinct.

The former mining district sits high in the mountains between waterfalls, trails, and open highland country, with stone streets, quiet corners, and a pace of life that still feels deeply tied to the range around it.

We arrive here after nightfall on Day 3, usually tired, dusty, and hungry from a long day on foot. A hot plate of comida mineira and a cold beer at the local pub tend to restore morale quickly.

São Gonçalo has a way of making people want to stay longer than planned.

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, this is the place.

Our traverse of the steep and spectacular Mato dos Crioulos (on Day 6) can be done either by foot or on horseback.

Should you prefer to do the trail on foot, pack mules can carry the weight.

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

Built in resistance. Rooted in place.

The discovery of diamonds in the Espinhaço reshaped both fortunes in Europe and the lives of countless Africans brought here in chains.

Founded by formerly enslaved Africans and their descendants, quilombola communities remain scattered across the mountains and valleys of the range, often tucked deep in the hills or hidden along little-used roads.

We’ll pass through several quilombola communities during the expedition, overnighting in two of them.

Being received by one is something we don’t take lightly.

A vila between two worlds.

Just outside Diamantina, Biribiri State Park is the Espinhaço’s most visited conservation unit, yet somehow still feels like a secret.

The Park protects more than 42,000 acres of cerrado and surrounds a former textile village turned quiet highland outpost, with a pair of highly photographed (and deeply swimmable) waterfalls drawing a steady flow of weekend visitors from nearby towns.

Most stay close to the road, the rivers, and the local pub, which means there’s a good chance we’ll still have long stretches of empty trail to ourselves on Day 11.

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 draw the eye, but nothing has shaped this region or its fortunes more than the rivers that run through it.

None more so than the Jequitinhonha.

Solemn and dignified, even after centuries of extraction and neglect, its diamond-rich waters once buoyed a distant empire and helped shape a nation. Even now, scarred and overlooked, it sustains more than half a million Brazilians living downstream.

In theory, we’ll cross enough rivers, creeks, and streams during the Expedition to become routine. There’s something about standing on the banks of the Jequitinhonha, then stepping into it, that never does.

A path carved in stone and memory

Many of Brazil’s colonial roads—and nearly all of its stone ones—were built by enslaved Africans. In the Espinhaço, the term Caminho dos Escravos (Slave Way) refers specifically to a 20-kilometer stretch of stone road leading north from Diamantina toward the former mining district of Mendanha.

Steep, exposed, and physically demanding, the Caminho once carried diamonds, supplies, miners, slave-drivers, and armed escorts through the highlands.

Today, it remains one of the country’s most remarkable surviving examples of colonial roadwork, and one of the clearest physical reminders of the systems that shaped Brazil’s interior.

We walk parts of it twice during the expedition: first on Day 10 en route to Biribiri, and again on Day 11—our final full day on the trail.

To life in the Espinhaço

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

It’s fitting, then, that one of its most beloved traditions is also one of its simplest: the Vesperata, a festive nighttime concert where musicians perform from balconies and windows while the audience gathers in the cobblestone streets below.

We’ll have the privilege of attending a Vesperata on the evening of Day 11. Expect a joyful mix of samba, bossa nova, Música Popular Brasileira (MPB), Beatles covers, and the occasional wedding-song.

There may be more polished orchestras elsewhere.
But there isn’t a place on earth where we’d rather celebrate the final night of the expedition together.