The 7th trap - preventing risks in the mountains

Eliott Nicot, member of the Lagoped Family and director of a film about the dangers of overcrowding in the mountains, presents his new film project: the 7th trap. A documentary on risk prevention in the mountains.

The desire for exploration drives us to push the limits of what is possible. Indeed, risk has never diminished the quest for adventure. Yet behind every epic, whether competitive or part of a pursuit of self-transcendence, there is “that essentially moral state reached when one obtains all that seems good, which can fully satisfy our desires, completely fulfill our various aspirations, find balance in the harmonious development of our personality” (cnrtl): happiness. Neil Armstrong, upon returning from his lunar mission, may have looked in the mirror and said to himself, “I am happy.” And rightly so, he had every reason to be! Ueli Steck or Marc André Leclerc, solo climbers and big north face enthusiasts, were also seeking their happiness. Thus, whether it is provided by a dose of adrenaline when performing moves above a risky point, by self-transcendence, or by the feeling of accomplishment, it is the pursuit of happiness that drives us.

It would then be appropriate to confront human relationships with risk, fate, and pleasure in order to find avenues for reflection on the question of safety margins. Indeed, mountain leadership training schools (ENSA, EMHM, CNISAG) identify the human factor as the main source of accidents, with the six unconscious traps as corollaries: habit, stubbornness, desire to seduce, expert aura, social positioning, and sensation of rarity. However, it would be legitimate to hypothesize the existence of a 7th unconscious trap, that of the imbalance between pleasure and risk-taking. This seventh trap would be more discreet than the other six, as it is an integral part of technical progression in the mountains: a paraglider pilot will not limit themselves to simple calm air flights. They will one day turn to cross-country or bivouac flying. A climber, for their part, will not stay forever on a sanitized cliff. As for the skier, it is clear they want to leave the secured areas.

It would therefore be interesting to reflect on one’s motivations as soon as one begins to perfect their technical level in a discipline. For Malon and Knoertzer from ENSA, it is essential to explain this motivation as precisely as possible, "which allows integrating risk-taking and transforming it into a course objective." While some will mention "self-transcendence, discovery, challenge, beauty," all motivations are legitimate. Nevertheless, it is “fundamental to explain this motivation as precisely as possible (4).” Indeed, knowing it allows better defining the contract made with oneself and facilitates the observation of inconsistencies. For example, although I am passionate, I systematically question my reasons for going paragliding: if I know that what I want is to spend a moment alone blending into the blazing colors of Indian summer, the contract will be fulfilled whatever happens, and I will not need to push limits I had not set for myself. If I decide to do a mountain course and my motivation is to spend a day with my climbing partner, I will not seek to put myself in technical difficulty. And finally, if I want to push myself, I will do so on a secure or well-protected route. In all cases, I will try to analyze my motivations, break them down, stick to them, and not mix them all together.

Yet despite all these precautions, risks exist in the mountains. Often little accepted by our social norms that minimize danger, it is undeniable that what is commonly called "zero risk" does not exist. To respond to the inherent dangers of their progression, practitioners use their skills, analysis, and appropriate equipment. However, a limit exists. Because perfect technical mastery, even combined with flawless analysis and good equipment, cannot alone guarantee safety. It is above all the human who chooses their margins based on their abilities and motivations. Moreover, these margins include exposure to uncontrollable objective risks. In other words, seracs do not come knocking at our doors. Therefore, the practitioner must imperatively question the form of enjoyment that a particular choice will provide. If one is not attentive, control over our own pleasure can escape us in a flight toward ever more ambitious achievements, too risky compared to what would be beneficial for our personal balance. Pushed to the extreme, the seventh trap, which could be called the “risk-pleasure relationship,” would become a flight forward that accelerates with technical progression.

Moreover, have you ever found yourself in the valley with the feeling of intense joy and happiness that the success of a course or flight gives you? While savoring your victory, it is possible to observe this warmth gradually dissipate until leaving a kind of emptiness that calls to be filled by a new project. It is at this precise point that the seventh unconscious trap develops. Before committing, couldn’t we undertake a brief introspection? For example, one could ask: “Will what I decide to do make me happier?” or “What process led me to make this choice?” or even “Have I properly placed my cursor between my safety margin and my pleasure-taking?”

Should we then decide on a moment to stop on our progression curve and stay there safely? Some military units evaluate each year the level of stability, well-being, and motivation of each group member to ensure that no one loses their composure during operations. The athlete who ties their life to their technical mastery, analysis, and mindset has much to learn from this process. One must be fully aware of the ins and outs of our decisions. What are the potential consequences of our actions? What does commitment really mean? Yes, something intoxicating emanates from alpine exploration. Of course, one finds irreplaceable well-being there, a lifestyle to protect, and a powerful harmony with oneself, nature, and climbing partners. We engage in a game where even the very remote possibility of death sublimates the burning passion for life. Sometimes, one even ends up staring absurdity in the eyes, standing tall, to announce having cracked the mystery of life by playing with its balances, rules, and limits. And while this chimera-like state of grace can last, sometimes it does not.

Because when death strikes with its dull and powerful crash, like the rustling of a huge wing, when it suddenly freezes the life fluttering all around in an indescribable terror, it reminds the witnesses of the scene to reconnect with their own existence. And those who had forgotten the inconceivable value of life in their quest for ideals, sensations, social recognition, discovery, exploration, and happiness that slips away in an endless pursuit of performance, remember. Inner worlds are shaken, and those who had the choice to seek sensations through voluntary risk-taking, not imposed by a struggle for survival, look around incredulously, searching for an answer that does not exist. It is then perhaps a matter of honoring as best as possible the involuntary sacrifice of comrades fallen in the mountains by listening to the message their disappearance shouts to us.

How to make the fearless, those who burn with passion, those whose technical mastery and confidence have become stronger than the rules, all those who have not lived the cycle of carefreeness then training until the violent confrontation with death, its smell, its sound, and the cold sensation invading the spinal cord, understand that the search for the limit comes at a price no one is ever quite ready to pay? Live your life fully, yes. But from time to time, ask yourself the right questions so as not to lose it. That is simply the 7th trap. As much as night and day are linked, it is part of the unbearable paradox of the mountains. But whoever decides to face it will at least have gained important maturity, opened up to their own sensitivity, and perhaps be a little safer than before.

I wanted to make this film because I believe something unspoken hides behind all the positive, exciting but also somewhat excessive energy generated by mountain sports. I am not saying everyone is concerned, and I am not giving lessons. However, I would like my experience to help define the contours of a door that would open onto a deep conversation with oneself. But I am not inventing anything: how many hide the truth from themselves regarding a career, without ever having the courage to open their personal door to what they deeply desired from the start? Driven by society, fear of failure, the need to belong, it is common to forget oneself. The phenomenon is no different in our circles. Yet, I think one should especially not forget oneself in the mountains: on the contrary, one must be perfectly honest with oneself and others. The idea of a seventh unconscious trap seemed appropriate to express this thought. I believe one must go to the mountains fully aware of their deep motivations, and above all know when to stop where pleasure does not increase with risk-taking. The shooting of the short film will continue this winter and will be structured around interviews with 3 men and 3 women. These 6 athletes, specialists in 6 different extreme sports, will each tell a story related to one of the 6 unconscious traps, then reveal their personal vision of risk in the mountains. Footage of the athlete’s discipline will be shown between each speech. The film’s conclusion will be structured around the suggestion of the 7th unconscious trap.

1) National School of Skiing and Mountaineering: report on mountain sports accidents from 2009 to 2018, 2018

2) Prefect of Haute-Savoie: mountain sports accidentology in 2022, October 26, 2023

3) France3 Auvergne-Rhônes-Alpes, A study to analyze mountain sports accidents, supported by the Petzl foundation, December 18, 2014

4) National School of Skiing and Mountaineering: Teaching risk management in the training of high mountain guides, Mallon A. and Knoertzer J.S.