Against the "mountain stereotype"...

What is happening? What is happening is that we are almost perfect.

We wear trousers neither too warm nor too cold, we have the right windproof jacket for every season. We carry the right gear, not too heavy, not too light.

The rucksack is the right one, we researched it for ages before buying it, we tried it on in the shop. Everything is perfect, everything is calibrated in the best possible way.

The hiking route we choose is suited to our strength, calibrated exactly on our level of training. It lets us toil just a little more than would actually be necessary.

We take care to choose the route that has neither too many nor too-few difficulties. Of course we did our research before setting off! We spent weeks weighing up the route. We went with the right friends, we had ourselves taken along by a guide, by an expert, we followed in the footsteps of some good association. Before leaving we studied the route on the internet, we saw the photos in advance and, without realising it, we took away most of the surprise. We lived the emotions of other hikers in advance by reading their wonderful trip reports.

We brought the map and the compass, we retraced a track with the GPS downloaded from the internet and phoned the relatives at home to reassure them that the day was going well.

All normal, all regular. We really are perfect.

At these thoughts I felt like an idiot, because when I used to go to the mountains I went there to feel the thrill of adventure. Instead, over time, I have perfected my technique and done everything to eliminate every chance of error, and with it every chance of feeling emotions... what a strange way of behaving this is.

I no longer get lost in the mountains, I no longer feel fear, I no longer feel uncertainty. I no longer suffer from the cold, I am well covered, I no longer get lost among the mountains or in the woods. The sun no longer burns the skin of my hands and face, I use sun cream. I no longer feel fatigue, because if I take maltodextrins or Enervitene everything runs smoothly... I am not thirsty if I drink a drink with trace elements. I am no longer hungry, and I manage to draw on hidden physical strength if I greedily gulp down a taurine-based drink...

I feel stupid when I think that I have done everything to change the spirit of adventure... hikes, days out in the mountains have become projects conceived and carried out, once again, with refined rationality. Nothing ever really goes wrong.

I always find perfect weather because before leaving I checked the forecast, there is never a time when I don't manage to slip between one cloud and the next. I no longer get lost in the fog, I no longer get wet in the rain, because even if it rains I always carry my rain cape.

I have acquired the tools to avoid every kind of danger, systematically and rationally.

A strange line of reasoning that brings with it a bitter truth.

When I used to go to the mountains in jeans and trainers I got soaked to the bone, and every experience had a “pioneering” flavour. But not “pioneering” because nobody had done it before me... but simply because I had never done anything like it “myself before then”. And while I got wet, and while I felt cold, and while I got lost in the woods walking twice the kilometres, I felt emotions, I learnt something about myself, I learnt something new about nature, about the world, about existence...

Perhaps it seems reckless to suggest being less conscientious...

It is not without danger to set off without thinking too much, without organising too much... but what lies hidden behind the attitude that obsessively wants to make everything safe? Is living recklessly also a “Mountain Stereotype”?

What new things will these thoughts bring???