Off-piste skiing in Méribel

That morning, Méribel was covered in a fine layer of fresh snow. The kind of conditions that make you want to get out of the box, to see a little further than the groomed pistes. Even before I put on my skis, I know I'm going off-piste. Making the first track, feeling the untouched snow beneath my skis, gliding without constraints… I can already see myself, carried by the mountain with every turn.

So before I go, I'll start with the basics:

1. I find out more beforehand.

   I consult the detailed weather report, the temperature trend, the wind strength and direction, and above all the Avalanche Risk Bulletin (BRA) it's essential to understand where the mountain is stable and where it's not. I don't hesitate to ask mountain professionals (pisteurs, guides or instructors) to help me better understand avalanche activity.

2. I pack my bag without forgetting anything.

   I go through my equipment like a ritual: I test my DVA i check that my shovel and my probe in place, and that my means of communication works. Each gesture is simple, but each can save a life. I know that my safety depends as much on my vigilance as on the mountain itself.

3. I never go off on my own.

   I can never imagine going up the first slope alone. The mountains are beautiful, but they demand respect and caution. When I'm not with experienced friends, I prefer to be on my own be accompanied by a guide or ski instructor. Their presence brings me not only security, but also a real lesson in the field

I always take the time to check the conditions one last time before setting off. It is only after this ritual that I feel ready to venture into the fresh snow of Méribel. As soon as I leave the marked trails, the mountain becomes wild and demanding.

Once my skis are on, I start slowly on the groomed runs, taking the time to wake up my legs and feel the snow of the day. Gradually, my eyes drift toward the edges, to those wilder areas that naturally draw me in. There, the snow is often lighter, more untouched. As I approach, I feel the shift immediately: no nets, no signs, no familiar markers. The mountain speaks differently here, and every decision matters.

Around Méribel, some off-piste areas are easy to reach, almost naturally. Others take me further, into spaces where navigation and reading the terrain become essential. When fog rolls in, fresh snow erases the contours, or the day turns white, I know that sometimes the only choice is to turn back. Closed areas and avalanche control zones are valuable guides, and I respect them without hesitation.

I take the time to observe, talk with my group, and savor every moment. For me, off-piste skiing is not a race for performance: it is a moment of communion with the mountain, a balance between pleasure and awareness. And when doubt persists, I never hesitate to ask the pisteurs for advice. Their experience and knowledge of the terrain can help me avoid mistakes and fully enjoy the mountain, safely.

In short, for me, off-piste starts long before you put on your shoes:

• I know how to use my avalanche transceiver and practice regularly so that the movements become instinctive.

• I take the time to consult mountain professionals to understand the conditions, assess the risks, and plan my outing with complete peace of mind.

Skiing off-piste in Méribel isn’t just about carving untouched slopes—it’s about feeling the mountain breathe around me. The moment I leave the groomed runs, everything sharpens: the wind whipping across my face, the crackle of snow under my skis, the mountain’s subtle shift beneath me, and sometimes the fleeting glimpse of a chamois or a hare darting through the trees. Some areas, like the Plan de Tuéda nature reserve in Méribel-Mottaret, are off-limits. I can feel that every space has its purpose: here, every animal matters, and every movement has weight.

In winter, the cold is harsh, food is scarce, and every disturbance costs animals energy. Even unintentionally, I know that getting too close can threaten their survival.

When I ski, I always keep in mind that the mountain is shared. Respecting protected zones means bypassing a beautiful slope to leave the wildlife undisturbed. And honestly, it doesn’t take away from the experience; on the contrary, it gives my day even more meaning.

I am thinking in particular of the protected area near the Mont Vallon cable car and the Mûres Rouges chairlift. Although it is clearly marked on the trail map, it can sometimes seem tempting. Yet, I always choose to avoid it. By preserving this area — as well as other similar spaces — we allow animals to feed, rest, and spend the winter in favorable conditions.

Outside of these protected areas, the possibilities for off-piste skiing are endless. But I’m not chasing speed or performance: I take the time to observe the snow, listen to the wind, and share the experience with my group. When conditions are perfect and everything aligns, each descent becomes a suspended moment, each turn a memory that stays with you.

At the end of the day, I ski back down with tired legs but a smile on my face. In Méribel, off-piste skiing is an incredible adventure—as long as I stay prepared, alert, and respectful. It’s often these simple yet intense days that stay etched in my memory.