40kms, Mountains & Dodgy Knees: How to Hike Chapada Diamantina Like a Pro 😉

What happens when FOMO beats common sense in the Brazilian wilderness...

‘I can’t bloody breathe’ I sputtered, as my lungs closed, my chest heaved and the tears stung my face.

‘Just look at me babe’ my husband said gently. ‘Calm, slow breaths’.

I was having a mini panic attack. Which was strange timing as I’d made it to the top of the very steep hill. You’d have thought I’d have had it midway, or looking up at the feat ahead?

But no. I achieved the goal and then panicked about it. 😂 Kind of my M.O. all over.

I was hiking the Pati Valley in Chapada Diamantina, a huge National Park in Bahia, Brazil. And when I say huge, I mean, bigger than Hong Kong huge, except instead of skyscrapers and crowds, it’s waterfalls, valleys and miles of nothing but nature.

Originally, hubby was going to do it alone. Three days, 35km, waterfalls, canyon views, homestays under the stars. “Moderate” difficulty, according to AllTrails. But I got FOMO, and despite my arthritic knees, decided optimistically that I could totally do it.

(Spoiler: “moderate” was doing some very heavy lifting in that sentence.)

The Bone Shaker

The adventure started with a 2-hour jeep ride that my Mum (rest her soul) would’ve called a bone shaker. I’d had a terrible night’s sleep and was hoping to nap on the way, but you don’t nap in a vehicle that’s trying to rearrange your internal organs.

So instead I sat there being thrown around, watching the dirt roads blur past, thinking, on Saturday I’ll be coming back this way with three days of memories. And that’s what life really is, isn’t it? Just a series of memories. Everyone gets the same 24 hours. It’s what you do with them that counts.

Deep thoughts for someone clinging to a grab handle for dear life.

We’d set off from Lençóis, a gorgeous little cobblestone town that felt like someone picked up a quiet corner of Portugal and dropped it in the middle of the Brazilian wilderness.

Pedestrianised streets, colourful buildings, a beautiful stream which turned into a raging river on the day we left, and a restaurant that served the most gorgeous filet mignon (my face Brazilian dish!)

Our guide was Dodo, and the company we booked with was called Chapada Backpackers that had their office in the local hostel. I guess that should have given me the clue that we’d be the oldest hikers in town!

Day 1: Reality Check

So. Day one.

10 kilometres, they said.

“Moderate,” they said.

It started with a 400-metre steep incline that caused the panic attack. Then a fairly flat stretch where I briefly thought, oh this is lovely, I can do this. Then a very long, very steep decline that absolutely destroyed me (I have patella femoral arthritis which means going down is much harder on the knees than going up.)

I tried to take a pic at the bottom to show how steep it was, but I couldn’t quite get the angle. My husband assured me however, it was very steep! (Bless him).

We’d started to lag behind by this point, but still had a few more ups, downs and some scrambling to do before we reached our accommodation for the night.

The group we were hiking with, a brilliant bunch of 20 somethings from all over the world, were done probably a solid hour before Rhett and I staggered in. They’d already showered, relaxed, and were well into their first beers by the time I appeared, looking like I’d been dragged through a canyon backwards.

Which, to be fair, I sort of had.

That night, Dodo called the company. He was concerned about me doing Castle Mountain the next day, and to be honest, he was right to be.

The company’s suggestion was to leave me at the homestay while the group climbed, but Dodo insisted on taking me to the waterfall instead so I wouldn’t miss out.

Apparently that was the ‘easier’ option.

Day 2: My Wobble

The next morning as the group Rhett included, set off on the Castle Mountain hike, I had a big wobble.

Why had I decided I could do this? Was I letting everyone down? Why was I someone who views the gym as a great idea in theory, but best appreciated from a sun lounger?

But then I sat with it for a minute. Who was I really affecting? The group were fine, off having a brilliant time. Rhett was with them. The only person dealing with the inconvenience was Dodo, and, he seemed pretty relaxed.

The person I was really upset with was myself. I thought I was stronger than I am. I thought my body could do what my brain had already decided it could. And it couldn’t. Not yet.

So I carried that uncomfortable truth with me through that canyon: if I want to keep doing things like this with Rhett, I need to get stronger and fitter. No more winging it on enthusiasm alone.

The Waterfall Comeback

As it turned out, the waterfall day was brilliant.

Although it was the ‘easier’ choice, clambering over rocks, crossing the river several times, and experiencing the famous “escalaminhada” (literally, “hike-climbing”), was challenging to say the least!

But by the time we got to the Funis Waterfall where we swam, ate popcorn, and Dodo told me all about his tumultous love life, the day was panning out to be spectacular!

The group joined us after their mammoth mountain hike and Rhett reassured me that I wouldn’t have enjoyed it. Apparently two of the young girls had panic attacks midway (a more sensible moment for a panic attack), and a girl from another group had dropped her phone at the top which one of the guides had risked life & limb to climb into a crevice to retrieve it!

Made my little wobble seem inconsequential!

That night, feeling energised and proud of my rock climbing day, was one of the most magical parts of the whole trip.

We stayed in the most beautiful little homestay tucked into the mountains with glorious views. Rhett and I had our own little honeymoon suite, complete with pink love hearts on the wall and a window that opened straight onto the valley.

We slept with the window open, fell asleep looking at the stars, and I woke to the sun rising right in front of me. If I could bottle a single moment from this trip, it would be that one.

Day 3: Redemption

The final day, the company had sent us our own guide, Kyon, and one of the young German doctors (the lovely Ariana), joined us too. She’d found the Castle Mountain climb super hard the day before, so I was quietly relieved I wasn’t the only one who’d struggled.

We took the “mules route” to Cachoeirão, Brazil’s ninth-highest free-falling waterfall. A longer route, about 10km each way, but without the insane steep sections the others were tackling at speed.

And it was the best day of the entire trip. Beautiful views the whole way, and a pace that let us take it in. No pressure, or panic, just walking (and singing - why not?).

The waterfall, and the valley that housed it, was absolutely stunning. Streams of water pouring 270 metres off sheer cliffs into the canyons below, and a variety of shades of green that stretched as far as the eye could see.

Rhett wouldn’t let me sit on the hanging rock (I don’t always do what he says, but on this occasion I respected his decision. The 300-metre drop beneath it probably helped 😳).

one of the guides showing us how it’s done!

So we convinced a couple of the girls to hold one of our travel challenge cards and pose on it instead! (They’re young and fearless!)

the lovely French Marions. 🥰

Dodo was proud of how fast we’d made it to the rock, and I must admit I’d been a bit Speedy Gonzales throughout the day if I do say so myself. A lunch stop with a dip in extremely cold water, followed by another 10km back, to the Black River, and we were almost done.

Side note - it’s called the Black River, not because it’s actually black, but because the tannins from the surrounding vegetation stain the water a deep, tea-like colour. All the rivers here have a warm caramel hue, that makes them look dirty, but the water is actually clean enough to drink! (And we did!)

I’d almost forgotten about the ridiculously steep incline from the first day, and just as I could see the car park and building where we’d stop for a cold beer before returning to Lencois, there it was. The sheer drop and narrow, rocky pathways I needed to descend to finish the hike.

It probably took me the best part of an hour to get down, with a lightning storm rolling in behind us. There’s nothing quite like the pressure of “get down this mountain before the sky explodes” to motivate a woman with dodgy knees. My joints were furious, but I made it.

And as we turned into the car park, our whole group, Matt from Manchester, the French Marions, the German doctors, Julie the yoga teacher, Claudi who speaks enough languages to communicate with 80% of the planet, and Edward the Ukrainian international man of mystery (who hated photos but was an absolute gentleman), all gave us a cheer and a round of applause. 😁

They’d been calling us “The Parents” all trip, and I told them on that last morning that I’d been listening to how clever, bright and positive they all were, and that if they were the future of our world, it’s a bright one.

40km and a Few Lessons

So I did it. 35-40km over three days. Lots of ups and downs, some scrambling, some tears, a mild panic attack, a waterfall therapy session, new friends, and a sunrise I’ll never forget.

Was it “moderate”? Not to me!

Was I ready for it? Absolutely not.

But I did it. And I’ll be better prepared next time. Because there will be a next time.

Your body doesn’t care how adventurous your spirit is. It only cares whether you’ve put the work in. I hadn’t. But now I know I must.

Because this life, this freedom, and these experiences are worth being strong enough to say yes to.

Tips for Hiking When You’re Over 50 with Dodgy Knees

1. Don’t.

2. But if you must, “moderate” on AllTrails means “you will question every life decision you’ve ever made.”

3. Invest in proper hiking boots. My trainers are still drying somewhere in Bahia.

4. Walking poles. I didn’t bring them. I borrowed some and they are a knee saver. Bring them.

5. Train before you go. And no, walking to the fridge doesn’t count.

6. Accept that the twenty-somethings will finish an hour before you. They’ll also cheer when you arrive, which makes it worth it. 🥳

7. Cry if you need to. Panic at the top if you need to. Then keep going.

8. Sleep with the window open. Let the stars remind you why you did it.

9. Always remember how young it makes you feel to move with confidence, strength and flexibility - use that as your motivation (note to self)

10. Do it anyway. Dodgy knees and all. You’ll hate parts of it, love most of it, and bore everyone at dinner with the story for years. 😁

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