My luck ran out

My luck ran out

The mountains taught me to read danger. And my knee gave out by the pool.

After thousands of days on skis, the mountains have taught me one thing : they always have the final say. I’ve come close to dying more than once, and every time I walked away without serious injury. After a while, you start to think you’re lucky. Maybe even a little untouchable.

It happened on a summer evening at home, by the pool, surrounded by family. Adults and kids, young and old, we were throwing each other into the water, laughing and splashing. One of those evenings where nothing matters except enjoying the moment.

It was a stupid accident. Nothing more. Maybe my knee had simply endured one hard season too many after years of demanding skiing. Or maybe it was just bad luck. Either way, the outcome was the same.

I knew the diagnosis before the doctors confirmed it. I felt it immediately, that unmistakable feeling that leaves no room for doubt. The MRI confirmed it, a complete tear of the cruciate ligaments and a tibial plateau fracture caused by the ligament pulling away a fragment of bone. The meniscus is intact. That is the bit of luck in this story, and it matters.

Everything moved quickly after that. A consultation with the specialist, an early MRI, and a clear decision, a surgery as soon as possible. ACL reconstruction using a hamstring tendon graft on July 6, less than a month after the accident on June 13. Very little waiting. Very few unanswered questions. In moments like these, making a decision quickly can matter almost as much as the decision itself.

I spent three days at Clinique de Genolier. I didn’t expect anything in particular, yet I’ll remember the experience for a long time. The care was exceptional, and everyone I met was kind, attentive, and reassuring. When you’re at your lowest, that makes all the difference. It’s the sort of thing people rarely mention, so I wanted to.

Back home, the long road to recovery began. The temperatures were above 30°C, my knee was badly swollen, and every degree of movement had to be earned. Day by day, mobility slowly returned, while muscle loss remained surprisingly limited. I’ll gladly take that. But the graft heals at its own pace, and that is something you cannot rush.

Thankfully, I’m not walking this road alone. My physiotherapists and lymphatic drainage therapists have been outstanding, combining patience, precision, and encouragement every step of the way. They’re the ones helping things move forward while my knee takes the time it needs. Recovery is progressing better than I had hoped. But making good progress doesn’t mean moving quickly, and that’s probably been the hardest lesson of this summer. There’s no rushing the process.

So the decision has been made : no skiing this winter. No exceptions. The goal is simple, to come back at full strength the following season. It’s difficult to write, and even harder to accept. Missing an entire winter is a real blow. But it’s the only choice that makes sense if I want to enjoy many more winters to come.

One question already occupies my mind, how do we keep 75mm Production moving forward without me being on the slopes?

Maybe by telling different stories. Different people, different adventures… but always telemark. There are so many skiers who share the same passion, and perhaps this season is the perfect opportunity to shine a light on them while maintaining the same standards for photography and storytelling. After all, the camera doesn’t need my knee to keep rolling.

So I’m exploring every possibility. Maybe you already have an idea. If you’re planning an adventure, an expedition, a project, or simply have a story worth telling, I’d love to hear from you. In the end, we’re all connected by the same passion.

Let’s keep it alive together.