The only help I could get was information on how I would ultimately die. ´Flash floods through the canyon, dangerous river crossings, and poisonous snakes,´ was what the locals had to say. ´And if you do get lost, which you will, no one is coming to look for you.´
Infuriated and frustrated, I eventually found the start of the three-day trek. I understood that the local guiding community needs to make money, but I felt that they could be a bit more helpful to the more adventurous.
I did not carry a tent or sleeping bag. I was relying on finding caves for shelter and beds made of natural vegetation for warmth.
Within the first two hours I understood the getting lost bit. The trail was challenging all my tracking, map, and compass skills. I found a cave for the first night high above the river and out of danger of flash flooding. That night, it stormed for 12 hours and the wind blew through the cave. Rain makes steep trails slippery and dangerous. The rain also washes out any footprints and hides the discoloration on the rocks; and with it the trail.
I crossed rivers and waterfalls trying to find the safest way to cross solo. Saw beetles with bright neon green lights that lit up the night as they flew like some kind of mini U.F.O. Ugly black spiders, martian-like grasshoppers the size of my hand, and lizards of many shapes, sizes, and colors. The lizards did bring comforting-uncomforting thoughts… should I get lost, there would be plenty to eat.
The track ended at the spectacular Fumaça falls that drop 400m into the valley below. I went for a swim near the falls wearing all my clothes and hoped that I did not smell too bad as I walked out into civilization.
