Grand Veymont Loop via Pas de la Ville

On the second day, the first morning in the chalet, the weather looks good, so we set off on the must-do hike of the holiday: the Grand Veymont, which is practically right on our doorstep. It's the highest mountain in the Vercors (although some smart-asses might say: "not the highest in the nature park...") The ascent initially takes us straight through the colorful autumn forest. At the tree line, Junior is highly motivated and nimbly outpaces the women. He covers an astonishing distance with several meters of elevation gain. Two paragliders take off from "our" slope, effortlessly; two steps, the third into the void, and so they fly. Over changing terrain, we reach a pass, where we turn sharply left and zigzag up a rocky slope. [After our bonus tour on the Taillefer, we'll say this was good practice for FleurJaune to get used to alpine terrain.] Behind a notch, marked by a gigantic cairn—or rather, a pile—a surprise opens up: the massive, towering mountain, which looks almost unclimbable from our side, is, on the back, a raised block resembling a long rampart. Reflecting later, one shouldn't have been surprised, as this seems to be a characteristic of the Vercors. Three times the illusion of seeing the destination, but this part of the trail drags on longer than expected. Then there's no way up any further, even if the secular French omit the cross that marks the destination. Sleeping child left at the summit; conversation in French—a bit one-sided, as we only say "Oui!"; apple; view; Mont Blanc over there—well, there's certainly a closer view of it, but it's important to the French. Downhill and back to the pile of stones. I'm sitting on a block, waiting for stragglers, when my son wakes up. We say nothing for minutes and simply gaze at the mountains—an unusual, amicably quiet moment with a two-year-old. Later, he sings his self-chosen hiking contemplation again: "Ubi Caritas; where love dwells, there is also our God, and goodness too" in melodies he adapted himself. Singing, we descend. On a long mountainside, the trail offers another change of scenery. A stream; earthen steps; paths through the bushes; autumn, autumn, autumn; scrambling on a slab; scree gully. Then a barracks where you're allowed to sleep (admittedly, not the most comfortable). From there, forest paths lead to the starting point.

“Return to the native land” It had been more than a year since I had returned home, my Heimat, the south of Grenoble. Accompanied by my son, I spend some time with my parents. Suffice to say that I was impatient at the idea of finding myself in my dear mountains, and yet so frustrated since our arrival on Saturday, the weather is absolutely terrible! Not a day without rain with a peak yesterday: the sky poured its water on us by whole buckets 😱. A little excursion to the Choranche caves on Sunday, otherwise stuck at home. So this morning, after consulting the mountain weather forecast, we made the decision to leave from the Gresse-en-Vercors side, where a weather window of a few hours seemed to open, and to improvise according to the conditions while keeping in the back of my mind is a truly beautiful objective: the Grand Veymont (2341 m), the highest peak of the massif. All day not a drop of rain fell and we were able to have a wonderful outing with the family, grandson, father and grandfather. Departure is at the foot of the ski slopes, heading towards the Veymont cabin. The climb into the flaming forest is already a splendid preamble. After passing the cabin we take the direction of "sous Pas de la Ville" following the balcony, above us the high cliffs of the Grand Veymont disappear into the mist while opposite, to the east, the sky more open allows us to admire behind the Serpaton all of our Trièves dominated by the high cliffs of Dévoluy and even further away the "3000" of Oisans in their winter majesty. At "sous Pas de la Ville", we have a quick picnic sheltered from the wind before climbing up to the Pas de la Ville, just to see if the final ascent is possible despite the mist, the wind and especially snow. Because the Agnellerie passage between the Pas and the summit slopes can be a little tricky: it's steep and the rocks can be slippery in places. We decide to continue and continue our ascent in conditions that have changed from autumn to winter. I am super happy and proud to see the enthusiasm of my son who wants to reach the top. We continue in deeper and deeper fresh snow where we make the track. Soon we reached the summit where a strong west wind was blowing, we could see that not much was missing for the clouds to break, intermittently we had glimpsed the High Plateaux as we climbed the summit slopes. While heading down we meet a solitary hiker, a Stéphanois on vacation, who decides to follow us. We had barely lost a hundred meters in altitude when the clouds opened as expected. In less than half an hour the wind completely cleanses the sky of all traces of cloudiness. Amazing ! The spectacle offered is absolutely beautiful. We cross the Pas de la Ville again then reach the balcony which we follow towards the north to the top of the Pierre Blanche ski lift and return to the car via the ski slopes. The flamboyant colors of autumn accompany us all these last few meters.