For French skier and climber Tom Lafaille, every turn is a choice between risk and reward — a balance of danger, humility, and respect for the mountains.
My friend always told me, “It’s not the mountains that are dangerous, it’s the way we play with them, how we act in the mountains; that can be dangerous.”
For French skier and climber Tom Lafaille, risk in the mountains has been ever present. He grew up immersed by it. His father, Jean-Christophe Lafaille, was one of the most respected alpinists of his generation, known for pioneering alpine-style climbs on the world’s highest peaks. In 2006 he disappeared attempting a solo winter ascent of Makalu. Tom was just a boy.
“I never started climbing because of my father,” Tom says. “When I signed up for the climbing club, it was just because I wanted to do another sport. At first, I wasn’t even looking at the mountains.
But skiing soon became his passion, and climbing followed soon after. By 18, he was on track to become one of France’s youngest mountain guides and by his early twenties, he was already looking at the kinds of steep ski lines where every move can be critical.
“We consider steep skiing anything over 40 or 45 degrees. Sometimes if you fall, maybe you survive. Other times you’re above a cliff, or in a place where the turns are so tight you just can’t make mistakes.”
The realities of those choices became clear a year and a half ago. Tom was skiing with a familiar face and trusted crew when an avalanche broke. “Just before, I was looking down over a cliff thinking, ‘I really don’t want to fall here.’ And then the avalanche hit us. Both of us took off over the cliff and rolled 300 meters. It was long, with a lot of impacts. I knew the place well, I even guided there, so I thought, there’s no way we can survive.”
Tom damaged his shoulder but walked away alive. “When I think back, I shouldn’t be here. I had luck, but I also fought, protecting my face, protecting my chest. Still, that was the clearest moment where I thought, okay, this is it.”
The experience left a mark. “Risk is not abstract,” he says. “It lives in every decision. Where you put your weight on a turn, whether you keep moving when the weather changes, whether you continue when the summit is close. These choices don’t just affect you, they touch your family, your friends, your community. If I take a risk, it’s mine to carry. But the consequences… they belong to everyone.”
In July 2023, Tom and Polish skier Anna Tybor made a rare ski descent of Broad Peak, the 8,051-meter giant on the Pakistan–China border. It was Tom’s first 8,000m summit. “It was a long one,” he says. “There’s this ridge between 7,900 and 8,000 meters, kilometers of it. We skied from the top without oxygen, without anyone to carry gear. Just the two of us.” On a previous attempt, a storm forced him to turn around just 60 meters below the summit. “At 8000m, in a storm with lightning and wind, you feel very small. The decision was clear, there was no other choice but to go down. I was completely okay with that. The mountains will always be there. I want to do many other things in my life.”
Tom doesn’t shy away from risk, he accepts it as part of his craft. But he’s careful to frame it in context. “We’re not playing. It’s not a stadium. You need a lot of knowledge. When we do a 3,000m line without falling, it’s because before that we did 1,000m lines, 2,000m lines. We built the experience.” Sometimes that experience also means restraint. “Some days you know it’s going to be a big day, so you breathe deep and say, okay, today I’m ready to accept this risk. Other days, you turn around.” For Tom, the balance is what keeps him coming back. “The mountains take a lot, but they give a lot too. When I succeed on a big line, it feels like 20 years of adventures come together in that one moment. It gives me confidence. It makes me feel alive.”
The mountains don’t care about our ambitions or our names. They stand unmoved while we trace our imagined lines across their faces. For Tom, those lines are not about adrenaline or ego. They’re about knowledge, humility, and respect for the terrain. A constant dance with the red line, knowing that crossing it could cost everything, but that moving along it is what makes life feel whole.
Discover more about Tom’s story in the latest episode of our Breaking Trails series.
