After that first encounter with açai in 1999, I’d had many trips back to Brazil, but a trip in early 2006 was more a trip of desperation. Bossa Nova had launched the world’s first açai juice to much greater success than any of us had expected. A single Whole Foods location, for example, sold over 3,000 bottles in a single month. But just as more and more people were discovering Bossa Nova, the Amazon experienced a drought. The usual açai supplies were down to zero, so we were pushed to explore the far ends of the açai world looking for new sources.

My partner on this adventure was Palo Hawken, a superfruit mastermind and Bossa Nova’s head of Research and Innovation. We started at the mouth of the Amazon at the Atlantic and explored both sides of the river basin, making our way nearly to Colombia. For weeks straight, we’d take small commercial overnight flights to a city in the Amazon and then board a small Cessna private craft to reach a dirt runway in a small clearing of the forest. At the end of the runway, we’d wait for a 4×4 to cart us to a remote village. From these villages, we’d board an open-air barge (usually reserved for transporting wood) to get to an even more remote and less traveled area. We’d then hop on a tiny 18" wide wooden canoe and ride through incredibly rough waters to get to an açai co-op.

We went days without touching a bed, napping in hammocks in the afternoons after meeting with co-op leaders. I’d be so sleepy I could barely hold on as we bounced through whitewater rapid paths that would jar you to the bones, for 20 or more miles at a time. Never mind that I’m a poor swimmer and didn’t think to pack a lifejacket.

That trip went on and on. So many beautiful faces speaking unfamiliar local dialects, combined with indigenous cuisine, intensely hot equatorial sun and lack of sleep made for something close to a drug-induced haze. At a few points we thought about ending our trip, but then a hug from a council leader eager to make açai for Bossa Nova fans was a high so intense that, with a lot of açai and a little pirarucu fish in our bellies and a hammock under the daytime kaleidoscopic canopy of trees, we’d push on for another week.