A short way past Poconé the tarmac gives out and the road becomes the Transpantaneira proper. The town is about fifteen kilometres behind, and from here the landscape opens into wet pasture, scattered trees and shining ponds, where herons and ibis wade and cattle graze among them. The track is raised above the flood plain, built on an embankment, and the borrow pits alongside have become permanent lagoons, which is why every ditch seems full of birds.
Fazendas and pousadas along the way offer meals and beds, and some will sell petrol in an emergency, though you should not count on it, and prices will be high. Bring more water than you think necessary, along with sun cream, insect repellent and a hat, since temperatures climb past thirty-five degrees in the dry months.
The riding is slow, sandy and bumpy, and the surface changes with the season. In dry weather it is a corrugated, dusty track where a following vehicle can blind you in a cloud, and sand patches can unsettle a heavy bike. In the wet it can turn to slick mud and ruts, and sections may be impassable. The wooden bridges deserve respect: planks can be loose or missing, and a gap in the deck is a nasty surprise. Cross them slowly, in a straight line, and walk first if you are unsure.
This is also a place to slow your mind. The Pantanal belongs to the cowboys, the pantaneiros, who ride out with the herds and know the rhythm of the water. Their stories and their grilled beef are part of the welcome. Dawn and dusk are the hours when animals are most active and the light is most gentle, so plan your day around them, and be off the road before dark, since cattle and wildlife drift onto it at night and the starlight is no help.