The Value of Consensus

February 2006

A multi-day trip to the mountains is also a great moment with friends. Far away from our respective family constraints, in a land where red wine guarantees both a lively dinner and a heavy sleep, all the stars are aligned for a perfect vacation.

We traveled to Rome by train and hired a car to reach L’Aquila, in the Abruzzo range. My only link with my job is a tiny Nokia phone, the 2005 top seller. Its battery life is so good that I didn’t even bother to take the charger.[1]

Our 3-men team is well trained, and has skied quite a few exotic mountains together. Daniel, a natural leader who studies the maps like nobody else, is the kind you don’t want to contradict for the daily summit choice. Stephane, more taciturn and discreet, is inventive and easy going. And me – definitely making too many bad puns, but always energetic and well organised.

Unfortunately, the sun has been very scarce since the start of the week. We’ve been skiing every day, but no summit really stands out. So, as the end of the trip approaches, frustration is building up - especially for Daniel, whose concept of "major summit" is very strict: a simple mountain pass won’t deserve any mention in his alpine journal.

We are headed for Monte Gorzano, a 2400-meter mountain with wide slopes towering above thick forests where bears and wolves are still to be found. The wind is hurling but skies are clear.

We soon understand that for a summit attempt, the clock is ticking. Bad weather is closing in, the cloud ceiling is rapidly descending, and it’s becoming colder. Soon the final ridge is within reach, but visibility is now poor. Behind us, the lower slopes are still bathed with sun.

I am a photographer: I’d rather shoot some nice images than bag the summit and see nothing. Daniel thinks the opposite. He wants – he needs - the summit. Stéphane is neutral, but Daniel convinces him to go. I know Daniel too well to make him change his mind.

“I give you twenty minutes, if you are short of time just come back down”. I’ll wait here. I guess this is my form of protesting; in this cold weather I’d be better off moving than staying idle. At least I get ready for the descent: put on the GoreTex, remove the climbing skins, switch the bindings, fasten my boots.

Twenty minutes later, and guess what – they are not back yet. Every extra minute gets more freezing and annoying. And when they finally show up in the blizzard, I grumble my miscontentment. As they slowly pack their gear, I can’t wait: “Going down a few turns and waiting for you guys there”.

Ten, twenty turns ? Too many. I stop, look up, and all I can see is grey mist. Thirty seconds later, I see two silhouettes above a small cliff. And then, nothing.

I wait another few minutes, hesitating to climb back up. Eventually I decide to continue skiing. Visibility is very poor, but the terrain seems different from the way up. Little by little, I understand that I am somewhere else. And the more I skied, the more random it got. Now I am all alone. Best case, I will find Daniel and Stéphane somewhere on the way down. Worst case, I will have to spend the night in the storm.

Let’s keep cool. I lost 200 to 300 meters vertical drop since the start, so I might be as far as 1 kilometer away from the ascent route. I can only be too far to the left, because of that small cliff I last saw which must be the split between the mountain sides. So, logically, I must now head to the right. To make sure, I will go straight down to the treeline, ?and head right only by then – even if that means more distance.

Snow has started to fall heavily. I see a sheepfold. This will be my shelter for the night in case things turn really bad. I check my altimeter and continue through rough terrain filled with snow drifts. I can’t afford being buried in my own avalanche, but I want to find my friends before dusk.

Finally, I see the treeline. I head to the right, as fast as my lungs and legs allow. Another half hour and I see two skis planted in the snow forming a “X”. Daniel and Stéphane are here. They have been waiting for me, digging a snow cave just in case. Nobody utters a word – we know we’re pissed against each other, but glad we worked it out.

Back to the car, I try a joke. I understand why you guys waited for me - I was the one with the keys.

Lessons learnt:

- If you go solo against consensus, get ready for consequences.

-?Even a small, early mistake can turn into a big, ugly situation.

-?Mistakes can’t always be avoided, so it’s worth learning how to correct them.

-?When in Plan B, gather information for Plan C.

[1] Try this with a smartphone in 2024.