Site History: Walk from the Pico das Almas, Chapada Diamantina, Contas River, Bahia, Brazil
Date of the story: November 2012
Submitted by: Willy Lion Barros
It was supposed to be just another common holiday, without many expectations. It’s one more trip to Chapada Diamantina, backyard.Friend, a camp never is common or just one more trip.
We didn’t do rappelling, or jumped from a rock into the abyss or spent days in a dense forest with just a compass. Just left the “conformity and conservatism” (save those words).
It all started …
We started a long time ago, no longer exists this introduction.Holiday in sight, the nerve will beep: time to put the Backpack on the back! ‘We’re into addiction get mad! November is that month of the year that should be hanged. Passed October the Pike ends and we can only see December and such holidayholidays, each of your way. On top of that, here, in particular in the year of 2012, November was the month of the long holidays: day 02 09 day anniversary of departed town and 15 proclamation of the Republic, if not mistaken. Don’t crucify me if I missed the reason, because that’s what they give holiday: for us to forget what happened. How to forget is depressed, a good backpacker goes in search of memories. So let’s kill dead in RIO DE CONTAS-CHAPADA DIAMANTINA.
The initial idea was I (Willy) go alone somewhere in the Chapada, just to relax and camp a little in respect to the holiday. But who has friends who can’t walk alone, then in a conversation with Bean he threw the idea to travel somewhere. The ideas they beat, time to plan for where. Say where, because AS already knew: spend as little as possible. This is another idea that has joined another brother in the endeavor. Kiko like the argument and decided to get on board with us. We needed a script to do without Guide. Searching, the best option that emerged was to climb a few peaks. Sifting left the PICO DAS ALMAS, ITOBIRA PEAK and PICO DO BARBADO. The initial idea was to make the peak of SOULS on Friday and camping in it; the other day we’d do the ITOBIRA. Discard the PICO DO BARBADO because was on fire (this is a long story that deserves attention, who knows another chance).
Backpacking and illusion in his pocket, left towards Rio de Contas.
The bus would leave the 7:00 the morning directly from the bus station. We had been shopping the previous day and each would take the old warrior and farofa. Benzão decided to increase and take a rice too, the detail is that to take warm was made at the time of departure. High speed No problem we can make it to the next stop of the bus station and take the bus. Thiyagarajan had already shipped and was with our death .
Theoretically this trip should last over 4 hours. But we got past 12:30. No lunch, we decided to keep walking and stopping along the way to eat.
We were with all the instructions noted. A friend of Rio de Contas wrote all the way. There was no mistaking: 1° descends on the central square, 2° walks up to the pousada São Felipe, toward the dam, walk 2 km to a fork, take the right straight, will pass by the entrance to the Fazenda Vaccaro towards a settlement.Arriving at the village of Brumadinho, where guides leave the cars arrive at the foot of the peak. But as we did: we went down in the central square, we saw the Pousada São Felipe, no dam, as the region is dry we found that part kind of irrelevant.Didn’t 2 km we saw the first fork, it’s amazing how everything was working out with the feeling that it was all wrong. We stopped a kid to bike to ask which way to the Pico das Almas.”Peak?” We ask the other kid trying to explain using more than three words “you go, go, go, go, after you turn, then back and go”. When I spoke more than three words he understood quantity in diversity.
We went, we were, we were … We arrived at another fork, less than 2 km, follow the left, for a change. We entered the yard of some houses, like houses donated to the homeless from flooding in the South. We insist on the power of information, ask for the resident like we used to get on the Fazenda Vaccaro:”Vaccaro, the farm?” – “Yes, Fazenda Vaccaro” – “ta?” – “don’t walk” – “my God, run here fulaaano they want to walk to the fazenda Vaccaro. Loong’s! ” – “How Far?” -“Away, away” – “(silence) ¬ ¬” – “is about 18 km, 1 hour drive!” We think, 18 km drive = 1 hour. This calculation it’s worse than the information, let’s go … They probably thought “This people is eccentric. Get out of car of conquest came to walk here. Still calls. My life then it must be a vacation because I do it every day! “. Walking on your own we found the path. Incredibly had a dam, a sign sending direct and turn a line that seemed to have some 2 km. Living, listening and learning.
A few pounds in the back, boot already eating dust, empty stomach and lungs expanded! No longer heard noise, car sound, pussycat sassy, nothing. Everything in the most perfect vibe. And go, go, go … We’re like hell and no lunch. We put it in his head that he’d just stopped to eat at the fork. 2:30 pm arrived. We sat at the entrance gate of a farm, we take the farofa Pack and killed who was killing us. On the way, among other issues, the agenda always came back to the long-dreamed and planned ride Brumadinho. On regular days maybe we could more easily, but on a holiday, the only wheels that crossed the road were those of the old scooters, which spent tearing. Without much hope, we were already working on the bags in the back when we saw a car coming from the left.Was the car of an electric company that was testing some wiring in the region. We stopped the car and asked for a ride. First the guys, like everyone else, they said we were crazy, was away, was going to start raining any minute and that it was not worth it, it was better to stay quiet in Brumadinho hearing “naughty Kitty” in some boteco. Like all the other times, we gave a little smile not to counter and ask where soon entered the car, our fate is already right. The guys pulled the stairs, took the cones and opened a gap of less than a meter to us in. The back of the truck was full of wires, tools and a claustrophobic wooden frame that has decreased even more space. Not complaining about ride, we’re that let’s … The ride didn’t last more than 5 minutes, but it was to review 5 years. I was at the bottom, lying Thiyagarajan sensually with the legs crossed out and Bean folded in two, then went to bed. On the ground, the buracaiada shaking the whole car, just think about the possibility of the door slam that gave no other, Bean took a strong door fluted.
We arrived at the entrance of the fazenda Vaccaro. The ride ended there, because the guys had to work. It was just the time to fire and cracking his back that it started to rain. Let me rewrite … StartedC H V and R, with caps even. It was rain that accumulated not backcountry via had a time. Sissy took, but when I opened the door, Sandy went with everything _ # furacãoéaqui. There were still good and kilometers to the remote town, farthest was the peak of souls. And have rain. The rain wasn’t all bad. Gave a powered on. Was very stuffy before frying, heat the farofa. We see in the review and went to the final review. But there’s no denying that the rain was getting serious, the cold was catching, weighing, the backpack and the watering km only increasing. We walked long before arriving at the first sign of civilization. The rain gave a truce and we request information and water to drink on the House of a native. Not surprisingly he has discouraged total rise at the peak of the souls still that day. Said that would be too risky in the rain, which we already was crazy enough to go riding the Rio de Contas up Brumadinho. And before leaving took thatmigue to look for a guide. Quaaal … This trip our guide is God, #partiu.
Finally Brumadinho. According to the instructions we native, cancels the entry, the following path was towards the river. We found one of the greatest figures of the trip, His Dé, an old man that is a paradox. At the same time it was Dick butt pants, wore a leather jaquetona rock ‘n’ roll. The moustache he got mixed up with the upper lip when he spoke made a rippling motion, it seemed that was sweeping through the bottom of the mouth. He was the one who told us to continue, which would make camp at the peak.Your Dé, very crazy, indicated the path. With the movement of oral cleaning I couldn’t pay much attention, yet trust in memory of the companions and continued towards the peak of souls
We crossed the river and went down more rain. As the drought has already punished the region as never before, we were afraid to stop raining. Better face it and admit that the obstacle was already turning threat.
Like I said Your Dé, we came to a little house, we should follow to the right. The heart was 1000, we were closer than away. We won more than 15 km of ground and rain. Everyone wet and cold until the collective he puzzled the first hesitation of the Group: risk climbing the peak or camping there? The truth is that everybody was fatigued and without much encouragement. I, in, want to risk and camping at the top of the peak. Climb on witchcraft, definitely, it wasn’t a good idea. Thiyagarajan and Bean were not clearly in order to face, but also the fellowship did not allow anyone to hit the hammer. I thought … The deal is to propose a vote, I am voting in favour of climbing, Bean will vote for keep and Kiko, after a fight inside, will vote to stay. I paid for “vida loca”, but in the end I sleep warm. The guys so certain, won’t give good thing up this deal now with fog covering vision of 10 meters in front of the nose. Let’s take a vote? Yes-No-Don’t. 2 x 1 we get, WHOO ahhh!
We shouted and no someone answer. Or mad dog gave signs of guard. We walked about and we risk once again. The House was the face of abandonment and the rain didn’t stop. Gave no other, jumped the fence and invaded enter on the ground. We seek a place to set up camp. Apparently the best place would be under a mega tree, because if a lightning strikes to turn newsbecause it was cooler the waterfall. We did a clean on the ground, we extend the tent. While Kiko and Bean armed camp, I went to check on the environment. Surrounded the House and, to my surprise, “oh!” She had a door, and the door had a lock.Found peculiar the way … How can I say … locked, closed, blocked had removed the function of enter the said door, so to better analysis, picked up a stone and organic tool take blowsoftened the nail that held the lock wire. Amazingly the wire slid out of the nail and the padlock fell. IT’S A SIGN! (voices of angels and light). Stunned, I was counting the miracle for my friends. “Friends, friends come see! I think God wants us to go in the House and make her address! “. My fellow sensitive spirit immediately said Amen, and with an attitude of faith brought the tent inside the House.
It was love at first sight. The House was just dust, probably someone clean and notntrava there a long time. In recognition of territory, we ran into a wood stove and a lot of dry wood to burn. Another sign. Is here! The holiday couldn’t get any better.Plans frustrated in the middle of nowhere, with friends, rain outside and wood stove inside. That week Bean had learned to make couscous and I beiju tapioca. Can you smell the coffee of luxury in sequence?
We set up the tent, we improvise a clothesline, better not count as (there are things that happen in High and die in High), we extend the clothes soaked. Body and backpack. We found that most of the things in the backpack did not escape. The dust cap style is not Sandy. I took the book 127 Hours (Aron Ralston, 2011) to read and almost lose it to rain. We light the wood stove and matutamos what we would eat first. I took my backpack stove, and Bean to his artwork. And we were ready for the tour. Cháfe Coffee on the fire, couscous , no salt in the dish, tapioca on the table. Nor do we remember of the old miojão our of every trip. We went up to level …
Bean takes the guitar and you can bag viajera Kiko tune and make a sound. On the edge of the stove, with coffee in the Cup, finally enjoying the rain in ideal distance. We put the review on day, for most of the night, until tiredness spoke louder and went to bed. After all, the good life has to continue good the rest of the weekend.
Camping on the hard ground isn’t easy. Despite the tiredness, back: 30 wake up thinking I’ve ever had, but it was still stale 1:00 in the morning. Slept, rested, woke up, time to make breakfast feast. We take bread with cheese (I didn’t forget to mention the butter Bean that you forgot to put it), prepare a wild lemon juice we found around the House and unhurried were packing up to leave. The setting was so cozy that sometimes forgot us the real goal, the peak. The plans already wanted to be changed. We were there enjoying the view, sitting in front of the House having coffee, playing guitar and laughing at the previous day’s tragedy. Barely started the journey and we already review that added value to all the rest.
When 10:00 in the morning, I was all set. To the House we left well swept and firewood new to spend (I think the intention was to get back …). The night before had shared with the guys an excerpt from 127 Hours (page 97), actually a quote that Aron does the writings of Alex Supertramp (in the wild):
So many people live prey to circumstances that leave unhappy and still not take the initiative to change your situation because they are conditioned to a life of security, conformity and conservatism, which seems to give them a sense of peace of mind, but in reality nothing is more damaging to the adventurous spirit in every human being than the security perspective in the future. The real sense at the core of the spirit that lives comes from our encounters with new experiences and so there is no joy greater than have a horizon that is always changing, with a new and different every day.
I think we take it very seriously, or better, to the letter. Security, conformity and conservatism was not good the way we draw to get to the top, to the goal. Your Dé, very doidiu, said the trail was easy and it wouldn’t take more than 2:30. The deal is to follow the beaten track, it will go around the peak to then start to rise, for a much more peaceful and less bumpy.According to him, crosses the River, follow the beaten track, edging a stone wall, crosses a corral, follows the right, is a field of flowers, a stone erected on top of another, like a door, and then begins to rise. We don’t TAKE HINTS with explanation and we thought we were walking more straight, okay that was easy, but not so easy. Road safety and fled across the river. We face a bulls greenhorns to get through the fence. Although we do not see any Corral, we thought the way I was hitting. Until you get to a point, after 2 hours of walking we like end of the line. Then the time to climb. Tried to climb the “end point”, but was very steep, almost an escalation by giant rocks. We’re back a bit and found a place little less dangerous reassured to climb. We hopped four good part, grabbing stone, pulling weeds, without looking down. Won the first peak, we enjoyed the view, we rested a bit and followed. Stone Stone, sticking in Cactus, we come to the second peak, a little louder. Non-stop, we went up to the top.360° view clear. The eye reached was beauty. On the other hand saw the town of Livramento far away, across a dam, so far the path of the previous day, in front of the House staring at us, and then the eyes roamed the right way. Really out of tradition, did the legal path, leaving the CONSERVATISM of the old side practices. Laughed remembering the words of the book, it was a good way to justify nonsense.
Were already 2:00 pm and, without uttering words, we agreed that there would be the best place for lunch, at the top. This was the peak of souls, still had a good walk. Farofa in, dissolve a packet of powdered juice in the last bottle of mineral water. Bad idea, because the juice was very bad and we’re just left with a few ml of water to the rest of the journey. Energy replenished, or almost, time to move on. We descend the peak to climb the other. From above, we see a path that seemed to beat grass, but when we went down there was to kill a little high and was tapering. We are experiencing a peak to another. Reaching the Peak of souls were climbing from one stone to another. We took pictures in the gazebo and we were pleased. One looked at the other already agreeing to not go any higher.Were just a few more rocks to the Summit, but we were already walking on the top. It was enough, said tiredness. In the time to come down, was torn between going back the same way or follow straight until the peak and start the descent. Once again, we kicked the security, conformity and conservatism and the cool shortcut, follow straight until you reach House.At first it was cool, jumping from one stone to another with the Bush relatively low. Until I saw a snake. It was kind of gray greenish, remember that a big hole Guide found on the trail and said she is not harmful and is afraid, always run away. But the problem of fear is not with her. Caught in time, but I couldn’t speak to do not create the chaos, she had already fled.The deal was a trick my mind, make you believe that I didn’t see anything.A shaky, elevation of the vein and move on. It seems that, to test the courage of the boy, the forest began to close and climbing. Arrived 1 hour we were in the middle of the gully with dense forest high above his head, stepping in fern, couldn’t see what was on, I didn’t know where I was standing. Bean started racing and the open way into madness, I was right behind. I don’t think I’ve ever laughed so hard in my life, new theory: the voltage must produce serotonin, because we started falling, sinking, if cut in the middle of all that kill but couldn’t stop running and laughing.
When I saw Mr. Bean walking backwards, sinking in the middle of the fern, heard Kiko screaming if everything was okay, I took a look at where we were, see the General situation. How would a friend that uses bomb: “is laugh to keep from crying”. Was giving a machete, we had no more forces, our legs were on automatic. When we were able to stop, and the blood to cool, we realized that we were in the middle of the Bush, maybe over a hole, relying on the strength of branches of a fern. Kiko pulled your knife sharp and coldly was paving the way. We could already see an adobe House. She was getting bigger directly proportional to our happiness to be coming. It’s gotten so big we’ve arrived! Every victory deserves a trophy, ours was a spout of water squeezed from the source. Drink straight from the barrel, fill the bottles, drink bottles, wet head. When the cold water hit the back of the head looks like a mountain, trees, Their D is by far, the birds, the House, the whispered world: “aaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh!!”.
But it wasn’t over. There was still a good trail ahead. Follow walking. Dirt path much more quiet. We passed by the House, holding the urge to stay there the rest of the weekend. We move on towards Cirencester. We couldn’t get in Rio de Contas still that day, then passing the River before arriving in town, we spend the remaining time before taking a shower. Taken the inhaca, but wear dirty clothes, we set up camp in Brumadinho.Godelamos juice, water, toilet and the patience of Dona Ana(Donana in local dialect).
To make sure she hadn’t slept, it seemed that every time we forgot to do something, or that a new idea and came back in the House of Donana to disturb. We left our backpacks and boots resting at her house and we were sleeping in a tent under a tree, hoping not to rain. After that night, sleep review old hit and open the eye the other day with the low of birds on our head. What the Chapada has to calm those nests have of restless, seemed the mouse program. We scrubbed the leseira and UPS. Like who wants nothing, we picked up the bags and boots in the House of Donana, coincidentally she was with the coffee on the table. And politely asked if we didn’t want to take a coffee with biscuits.Without giving a chance for her to go back, we were sitting at the table eating and chatting with one of the hundreds of children of Donana, which make up the population of that village. We found that it’s a family condominium Brumadinho. Everyone is relative, who is not going to end up marrying his cousin. The prose was good, but the road because the domingão have emerged and we need to be in Deliverance at 2:00 pm to catch the bus.
We walked a lot, without hope of getting a ride. We reached the same bifurcation of the first day. We know his Boy, another fuguraaaaaassa! We did not understand most of what he spoke, but his innocence trying to justify why Their Marks left by car for Deliverance shortly before we got here, thus losing the ride.Loses here, WINS right there. Been a Pampa blue, hit the arm and he stopped. We guarantee the ride to Rio de Contas. I’ve very happy for it, life still surprises us when the car starts and we wave to your boy, he dismisses with a late UHUUUUUUUU!!!!.!!!!! Kkkk #hilário.
Arriving at Rio de Contas, we learned that a good way to make friends is talking about “áááááááágua”. That’s how I met a gentleman in the square, and we had a chat about comedy rain, weather and the like. He kept interacting with other residents”áaaaaaaagua” players of Lady responded “fooooooooogo”. Nor did the question of waiting for the rest of the conversation, he held her own with the guys.
On the way to Evandro and Valeria, where we had lunch and got to ride for Deliverance, we were fortunate to meet the Lord who takes care of the famous Church of the slaves leaving the scene.We asked if we could visit soon. He, educated, soon put us inside. Beautiful work of art. So impressive and simple at the same time. As few cathedrals around the world.
In the stomach, lift to Deliverance, now just wait for the time to go. But the journey’s not over when it’s over. Still not very conformed, tried to risk a ride to Brumado to increase the cost x benefit, since the passage of the Brumado to conquest is 12.00 R$. The first figure that tried to ride was a drunk. Asked if he was going to go, he would only answer Brumado “to town” – “where?” – “to town” – “Brumado?” – “to the city” – “for Conquest!” – “to the city”. Bean and Kiko, shocked by the conversation in a circle, you weren’t going to anything anywhere, put me out of the front of the car. I think it was that same, and something tells me that if I went to another and had gotten into the car, I wouldn’t be telling that story here. We tried more rides on the track, a car stopped, opened the door, calling, but it didn’t work. She just wanted to cross the runway and took a fright with the daring strategy of go entering into her car.Reaching the point of lift, had a gentleman sitting and was soon pulling subject: “so doing tourism or experience?” (people really surprised when the issue is interaction). Bean replies with I don’t know Guy: “both”, to complete it still points to me and speaks”this kid’s” anthropologist. The old look fine to me, doesn’t say anything, but just sum short of leaf + the dirty blouse + a clean face and round glasses, wrinkles mouth, stares at me from below to above and must have thought: “Oh, my son turns it.He takes a beating until you fix it! “. The idea for the ride went nowhere, we went back to the bus station and take the bus even.
3 days worth for 3 years. When they say travel is to live, really claim a truth. Everybody needs travel, feel the distance, tiredness, to find out the rest and enjoy a new experience.Someone said that travels “it’s all worth it when the soul is not small”.