Cerro Chochís
The park’s most commanding feature is Cerro Chochís, a sandstone monolith that rises abruptly from the Chiquitano dry forest. It’s not just a pretty backdrop; it’s a navigational anchor and a test of your legs if you attempt the hike. The climb is steep, exposed, and not for the unprepared—bring water, respect the sun, and don’t expect handrails. The payoff is a panoramic view that stretches from the dense green below to the distant haze of the Bolivian lowlands. The silence up top is absolute, broken only by wind and the occasional hawk. If you want a summit moment that feels earned, this is it.
Santuario Mariano de la Torre
At the base of Cerro Chochís sits this striking sanctuary, built in memory of a tragic train accident. The architecture is raw and honest—local stone, open-air … read more 👉
The park’s most commanding feature is Cerro Chochís, a sandstone monolith that rises abruptly from the Chiquitano dry forest. It’s not just a pretty backdrop; it’s a navigational anchor and a test of your legs if you attempt the hike. The climb is steep, exposed, and not for the unprepared—bring water, respect the sun, and don’t expect handrails. The payoff is a panoramic view that stretches from the dense green below to the distant haze of the Bolivian lowlands. The silence up top is absolute, broken only by wind and the occasional hawk. If you want a summit moment that feels earned, this is it.
Santuario Mariano de la Torre
At the base of Cerro Chochís sits this striking sanctuary, built in memory of a tragic train accident. The architecture is raw and honest—local stone, open-air … read more 👉
Cerro Chochís
The park’s most commanding feature is Cerro Chochís, a sandstone monolith that rises abruptly from the Chiquitano dry forest. It’s not just a pretty backdrop; it’s a navigational anchor and a test of your legs if you attempt the hike. The climb is steep, exposed, and not for the unprepared—bring water, respect the sun, and don’t expect handrails. The payoff is a panoramic view that stretches from the dense green below to the distant haze of the Bolivian lowlands. The silence up top is absolute, broken only by wind and the occasional hawk. If you want a summit moment that feels earned, this is it.
Santuario Mariano de la Torre
At the base of Cerro Chochís sits this striking sanctuary, built in memory of a tragic train accident. The architecture is raw and honest—local stone, open-air chapels, and a sense of solemnity that matches the landscape. It’s a place for quiet reflection, whether you’re religious or not. The sanctuary is also the unofficial trailhead for Cerro Chochís, so it’s a practical waypoint as well as a cultural one.
Chiquitano Dry Forest
This isn’t the Amazon, and that’s the point. The Chiquitano dry forest is a rare, threatened ecosystem—gnarled trees, spiny shrubs, and bursts of color from flowering cacti. Wildlife is elusive but present: look for maned wolves, armadillos, and a riot of birds if you’re patient and quiet. The forest trails are rough, sometimes overgrown, and you’ll want long pants. The reward is solitude and the sense that you’re walking through a living museum of South American biodiversity.
Mirador Natural (Natural Lookout)
There’s a natural rock outcrop not far from the sanctuary that serves as a less-committing alternative to the full Cerro Chochís climb. The view is still impressive—especially at sunrise, when the valley glows gold and the shadows stretch for miles. It’s a good option if you’re short on time or energy, or if you want a safer vantage point for photography. Watch your footing; the rocks can be slick after rain.
Petroglyphs and Rock Art
Scattered throughout the reserve are ancient petroglyphs—some easy to miss, others more prominent. These carvings are a reminder that this landscape has been inhabited and revered for centuries. Don’t expect interpretive signs or fences; you’ll need a guide or a sharp eye. The sense of discovery is real, and the art itself is a direct line to the region’s indigenous past. This is my personal favorite: the thrill of stumbling onto a centuries-old carving, half-hidden by lichen, is hard to beat.
The park’s most commanding feature is Cerro Chochís, a sandstone monolith that rises abruptly from the Chiquitano dry forest. It’s not just a pretty backdrop; it’s a navigational anchor and a test of your legs if you attempt the hike. The climb is steep, exposed, and not for the unprepared—bring water, respect the sun, and don’t expect handrails. The payoff is a panoramic view that stretches from the dense green below to the distant haze of the Bolivian lowlands. The silence up top is absolute, broken only by wind and the occasional hawk. If you want a summit moment that feels earned, this is it.
Santuario Mariano de la Torre
At the base of Cerro Chochís sits this striking sanctuary, built in memory of a tragic train accident. The architecture is raw and honest—local stone, open-air chapels, and a sense of solemnity that matches the landscape. It’s a place for quiet reflection, whether you’re religious or not. The sanctuary is also the unofficial trailhead for Cerro Chochís, so it’s a practical waypoint as well as a cultural one.
Chiquitano Dry Forest
This isn’t the Amazon, and that’s the point. The Chiquitano dry forest is a rare, threatened ecosystem—gnarled trees, spiny shrubs, and bursts of color from flowering cacti. Wildlife is elusive but present: look for maned wolves, armadillos, and a riot of birds if you’re patient and quiet. The forest trails are rough, sometimes overgrown, and you’ll want long pants. The reward is solitude and the sense that you’re walking through a living museum of South American biodiversity.
Mirador Natural (Natural Lookout)
There’s a natural rock outcrop not far from the sanctuary that serves as a less-committing alternative to the full Cerro Chochís climb. The view is still impressive—especially at sunrise, when the valley glows gold and the shadows stretch for miles. It’s a good option if you’re short on time or energy, or if you want a safer vantage point for photography. Watch your footing; the rocks can be slick after rain.
Petroglyphs and Rock Art
Scattered throughout the reserve are ancient petroglyphs—some easy to miss, others more prominent. These carvings are a reminder that this landscape has been inhabited and revered for centuries. Don’t expect interpretive signs or fences; you’ll need a guide or a sharp eye. The sense of discovery is real, and the art itself is a direct line to the region’s indigenous past. This is my personal favorite: the thrill of stumbling onto a centuries-old carving, half-hidden by lichen, is hard to beat.
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Best Backpacking
Hi, I’m Johan (Netherlands 🇳🇱), the creator of TakeYourBackpack. Over the past decade, I’ve backpacked through 80+ countries across six continents, gaining extensive experience with independent travel, long-term trips, and overland routes.