The more I explore the south of Brazil, the more wonderful things I find about this massive country that both captivate and delight me. Recently I had the pleasure to go on a bit of a walk through the mountains outside of Curitiba on the Caminho Colonial do Itupava (hereafter called the "Itupava Trail") to a nearby town called Morretes. Having visited Morretes several times, I think I have enough to do a standalone piece on it, so here I will focus on the hike (and the trail) itself.
Trailha do Itupava is a 10-hour hike (at least it was for us), a 20km trek across the gorgeous Serra do Mar (coastal) mountain range that was built by miners, but based upon the existing trails of the native Brazilian tribes discovered initially around 1625 and developed over the next few decades. The trail's purpose was to connect Curitiba to Morretes- the reason was (what else?) monetary, with Morretes and the surrounding Mata Atlantica rainforest providing plentiful riches, especially clay, sugar, yerba mate, and some gold.
When initially crafted, the trail was dirt only- fit to be crossed over the period of several days by donkeys carrying loads up to 60kg- or roughly the same amount as my mate Paul, who brought along all the comforts of home (and possibly the kitchen sink as well) in his 75 liter rucksack for our day of hiking. Eventually the developers, by using cannon fire and dynamite, widened the trail enough for animals to pass (reasonably) safely past what was called in letters from the 1800s as “escabrosas margens e passagens do Rio Ipiranga”- the “scabrous banks and passages of the Ipiranga river". Flowery way with words, those old-timers.
A ten-mile hike may seem like a walk in the woods- literally, but this undersells just how treacherous a good portion of the hike was. The road was paved in the 1820s by slaves, with the old paver stones visible (and walkable) many times throughout the trail- in fact, every time we came to an unmarked fork in the trail (which was quite often- it was surprisingly easy to get lost on this very popular trail) one would only have to travel a few dozen meters down a path- and the presence of cobblestones let you know that you were indeed headed in the right direction. We still made many a false start down an errant pathway- oftentimes leading to an unpassable river, an underground cave, or even just a run-of-the-mill cliffside for an extra thrill.
The trail itself fell into disuse in the late 1800's- the marvelous Morretes train system as well as paved road developments lead to it being abandoned (and mostly forgotten) until the 1980s, with conservation and rededication of the path only happening in the last 20 years. This recent-return-from ruin was spespecially clear in some of the-ahem- less than stellar condition of the pedestrian bridges used to cross some ofthe rivers with steeper embankments.
Though the rocky path was a blessing (by letting you know which way to go), at times it was also a curse- there was a 2-kilometer stretch of the trail late in the journey which was all steeply downhill, with sharp switchbacks over the most pristine section of the pathway- and it was all ensconced in shadow, the rocks covered in moss and most slippery, so picking one's way from rock-to-rock trying not to completely lose balance and go tumbling off the side of the mountain was both physically and mentally exhausting- there wasn`t a really "safe” place to stop the entire way.
After the hairiness of the slippery cobblestones, we ventured down the scariest stairs I've ever seen in my life- corroded metal every other step, jagged metal "railings” only a foot above the sair themselves- getting down safely involved a sort of "crab walk” situation, leaning backward, holding the rail while making sure to not get any tetanus or sever an artery from the railing. Wild stuff.
At the bottom of the stairs we reached a train station in the middle of the jungle- part of the train designed by two mixed-race brothers- The Rebouças- in the 1800s, they succeeded (where French and American engineers said a railway was impossible) by closely following the native trailheads already in place. In fact, on the hike, outside of the jungle-y nature sounds, the only other things one hears on these trails is the sound of the train in the distance. The sound still stirs my senses- the whistles and “chugga chuggas” are still some of the most adventurous and exciting sounds in my imgination- but especially so when barely audible through the dense foliage of the jungle canopy.
On the trail, I learned that Brazil has over 200 types of native bamboo (many of which were visible from the trail, but also the diversity of birds available to see was astounding- this one was one of the highlights- I didn't get any pictures, but this David Attenborough Bird Dance clip of the Blue Carousel bird is endlessly entertaining. and shows off just one small, brilliant, and adorable portion of the biodiversity of the Mata Atlantica.
Eventually, after 9 hours on the trail crossing decrepit bridges, rusty stairs, scrambling down steep, rocky ravines and occasionally making the wrong decision when the path Y'd (and also an hour-long, languid lunch by a waterfall), we eventually reached a dirt road and spent the last hour walking toward Morretes itself. The trail ends several km from the city proper, so when we had service we called a taxi to come and drop us off at our hostel and went out for a well-deserved beer from Porto Morretes- a local brewer run by a Louisianan expat and his Brazilian wife.
And thus, the end of the trip was met. I have many more hiking adventures to undertake in this crazy jungle world I find myself living in, but I will be hard-pressed to find a more lovely and scenic journey, or better friends to travel on the trails with. Until next time.
Stunning photos of an amazing hike. As for combatting a hazy lens, I usually use bracketing on my camera to capture photos with light and dark scenery—basically an HDR shot.
Another great entry in the books!
My only complaint is that you bought smartwool when Darn Tough has a lifetime warranty.