Vertigo

"Do you want to go up there with the donkey?" asked a man who had come running out of his house.
Oh yes! I had just left Peyrus and headed towards the beginning of the GR 95. The path that leads up to the Vercor.

The man explained to me that there is a three metre high rock in the upper third of the climb. He said that it was hard to climb for human beings, because there were only very few notches to tread on. He claimed that a donkey would not be able to manage it.

I thanked him for the warning but walked on. When it came to the worst I thought I could always unload the luggage, carry it up myself and let Gamin find his own way up.

The ascent became more and more narrow and steep. Roots and rocks offer some sort of step for human feet, but for the hooves of a donkey they are a torture.

Difficult ascent

 When the path became too steep, Gamin stopped walking. After half an hour I was able to coax him into climbing on. Then he stopped again. And I had to pull and sweet-talk again.

I secretly hoped that we had already left the aforementioned rock behind, because we had already tackled a couple of rocks. No chance! Here it was, the rock wall.

It was immediately clear that no donkey could ever manage it, with our without luggage.
I left the GR and tried to find a way right through the thicket in order to circumvent the obstacle, go up along a different route, and find the GR again later. We were successful after all. The reward was the wonderful plateau of the  Pas du Touet, which we reached soon afterwards.

Then the path was level for a while. Finally, we reached  Léoncel.

On the door of the town hall was a piece of paper with a telephone number to call when in need of a place to camp or a place to stay. We were pointed to a meadow behind the cemetery.

After a very windy night we continued, on a steep path again. After a short while, Gamin stopped walking again. Oh well. Once more a breakneck situation up in the rocks. This time I decided to listen to the donkey and we turned around. We circumvented the place by simply following the Départementale (express road).

After a while we returned to the GR, where the Vercour plateau unfolded in all its glory.

We reached the Col de la Bataille, with its view in all directions, far across the valley and the mountains.

Without doubt it is an impressive sight.
But my knees started to shake and I got dizzy.
Vertigo!
Now it really got me. The Col is 1313 metres high, not very high really, but the pictures show you how it looks. I have always suffered from vertigo, but never before in the mountains.
But here - I could not continue.

I took photos without looking at the landscape. My only desire was to get down again, as quickly as I could, and on the main road, if possible crawling flat on the ground.

Somehow we managed to reach the Gradiol bothy (Gradiol ... sounds like Gradoli), a spartan, unmanned hut without water, telephone connectivity or electricity, but with a wood stove and a wooden bench to sleep on.

I decided to spend the night there. There was wood in the hut, but no paper. A battered guest book laid on the table. The entries soon explained the bad shape of the tome: “Sorry, we had to rip out pages in order to make a fire, it somehow was a matter of life and death" ... and so on ...

I imitated the actions of the people before me and hoped to use as few pages as possible. After ten pages, the stove blazed pleasantly.

Apart from this, the night in the scary building was everything but comfortable. I would have felt better in my tent. In such a bothy, people can come in at any time and lay down beside you. (!)

It is permitted to pitch a tent next to a bothy. But I was far too tired. And this is why I spent the night sleeping on the floor next to the stove. I found the dormitory too spooky.

The GR would now continue across the Plateau d'Ambel, along the ridge of a bottomless, high rock wall, in height up to 2100 metres.
Too high for me.
And the weather: rain, strong gusts of wind.

I had to face some pressing thoughts. This Vercors Grat is only the beginning. In the alps there will be GR paths leading up to 2900 metres high. It will be autumn until I will have managed to get the donkey up there.

The only solution is to change to a more southern route and to make sure not having to cross any mountains higher than 1000 - 1200 metres.

There is no other way. This is why today we followed the boring Départementale again. For 38 kilometres! Gamin was totally shattered when we finally reached the little village of Bouvante. There is a restaurant with a hotel, where I checked in without furthher ado. Gamin came on a meadow with apple trees, and I looked forward to having a shower. Alas, the massive shower head crashed down on my head, but no bliss is ever perfect.

However, I was allowed to use the local WiFi, which is why I can now work out the new route.