When I was asked to write an adventure story, I thought to myself: I have so much to tell, it's going to be great to be able to share it!
Between bike trips in Sri Lanka, Taiwan, Corsica... trail mishaps, mountain bike road trips, ski touring, the list is long and inspiration comes easily.
But looking back at it all, I realize that my greatest adventure is a sort of Kurt Cobain look-alike dressed as the Snow Queen: she's 6 years old today and she's my daughter.
My apologies in advance to lovers of exoticism and thrills.
Speaking of thrills, it started right at her birth, like an avalanche hitting you in the face. You can prepare all you want, but it's impossible to suspect the power of that blast that pins you to the ground, like getting a kick in the sternum from Bruce Lee (a boomer reference, I know...).
"I realize that my greatest adventure is a sort of Kurt Cobain look-alike dressed as the Snow Queen; she's 6 years old today and she's my daughter."
It was at the maternity ward that I learned you could truly sleep anywhere. Having inaugurated the night sleeping on the floor under the bed, it's an exercise I remember during every ultra bike race when I have to sleep in a cemetery or with my head under a scooter to block out the light.
Immediately after, she gently taught me how to manage my rest times, for example, being able to fall asleep instantly for 10 minutes during one of the night feedings...
Overall, all parents go through it, and it's a goldmine for self-knowledge in terms of fatigue! 
Then, faster than you think, come the moments of sharing.
At 15 days old, our daughter took her first bike ride in a trailer along the shores of Lac du Bourget. We felt like we were transporting a carton of eggs on a seat without springs.
At 1 month, her first mountain hike. Not very socially at ease, two kind ladies told us: "Oh, it's nice to see a baby in the mountains, she's better off here than down there in a stroller with all the exhaust fumes."
That was all it took to convince us to continue. 3 days later, she "climbed" her first mountain pass by bike, followed by multiple bike rides, hikes...
The following winter, she enjoyed a full season of cross-country skiing in a trailer under 5 layers of clothing. The lockdown was a wonderful opportunity to settle down with her and take her into the forest to maintain the mountain bike trails (located within our 1km radius), something she remembers, to our great surprise today.
Note that we always had these activities approved by doctors and osteopaths (I see you, those who started thinking we are terrible irresponsible parents).
We continued our micro-adventures with our daughter and, the following winter, after a few tantrums from her, we understood that she wanted to do like us: ski.
On her own, she got on my skis and looked at me a bit like a border collie who wants a stick thrown, the message seemed more than clear.
So, at 18 months, she was going down her first slopes alone and little by little her skill level increased, gently, never forcing her, never constraining her: "Daddy, I'm so happy here."
And this year, at 5 and a half, our daughter did her first off-piste runs and discovered the joy of skiing in silent "powder": "Daddy, can we go back to skiing in the cotton?"
At the same time, she naturally learned to ride a bike, calmly, like all children her age. No earlier, no later. Again, no performance logic on our part, only her enjoyment matters.
In intermediate kindergarten, we enrolled her in our village's bike school. This initiative is rare enough to be highlighted. In two years, she will have learned to handle her bike, know it, anticipate. She will also have learned the taste for effort, largely inspired by her mother.
Next year, she's enrolling in a mountain bike school to be like her idols Sammie Maxwell, Mathis Azzaro, Fred Machabert, and Tadej Pogacar.
I can say, not
without a certain pride today, that I have succeeded in my goal of being very present for my daughter despite the pitfalls.
This perspective, I owe to Phil Join-Lambert, one of the voices of the Étape du Tour or the Roc d'Azur: "Take every moment you can with her, create shared experiences whenever you have the opportunity, you will never be too present, accumulate them, that's what she needs."
So naturally, the score is not always easy to play, between stomach bugs, growth spurts, our desires and needs, life as a family, constraints...
And then there's the well-intentioned advice. One day, I was told it was bad for my daughter if I picked her up from school, if I took her to her bike or ski lessons on Wednesdays, that she would develop better if we put her with a nanny in her free time.
It's all a matter of desires and choices, not judgment. For some, it's easy. For others, these are harder summits to climb than Makalu.
For me, it remains the adventure that surpasses all others. My greatest expectation is to continue sharing these moments, to continue transmitting, to have fun together, that we continue to climb and descend those mountains that are so dear to her.
