There are many psychological motivations for participating in outdoor activities—what constitutes the right mindset?
It’s common to see people blame accident victims, claiming their mindset was wrong. Earlier this year, I wrote two posts, discussing the psychology of outdoor activities. The first analyzed death from a philosophical perspective, while the second introduced the views on death of two legendary high-altitude mountaineers from the last century. Later, I noticed other posts also addressing this issue, leading me to believe it’s worth further exploration.
First, let’s define “outdoors.” This term can be interpreted differently, but I refer to any environment outside of man-made structures as outdoors. Examples include nature parks, wild mountains, wild rivers, etc. By outdoor activities, I mean all activities conducted outdoors—whether recreational, competitive (in the traditional sense of “sports competitions”), or driven by personal pursuits (such as scientific research, physical fitness, emotional cultivation, or challenges to nature and self). Green Field activities encompass all three categories: commercial teams’ “recreational” outings, TNF’s “competitive” events, and other varied-difficulty activities fulfilling personal “pursuits.”
The most dangerous outdoor activities are typically what we call extreme sports, such as free soloing big walls, high-altitude mountaineering, backcountry skiing, low-altitude (from buildings, power towers, bridges, cliffs) parachuting, Batman-style wingsuit flying, deep-sea diving, waterfall kayaking, and so on.Such extreme outdoor activities are characterized by numerous uncontrollable risk factors, a high likelihood of accidents, and often result in serious injury or death when things go wrong.Some activities that seem dangerous but have more controllable risks do not fall under extreme sports, such as climbing in indoor gyms or most bungee jumps. Conversely, some outdoor activities that appear non-extreme may harbor hidden dangers. Green Field activities include such cases. For example, activities involving “objective” hazards like cold temperatures, cliffs, or steep Great Wall steps, combined with “subjective” human factors such as ignorance, carelessness, fatigue, can also lead to fatal accidents.
In the following discussion, the terms “mindset,” “attitude,” and “purpose” are used interchangeably. Regarding the scope of discussion, although hikers are more concerned with activities like those on Green Field, I believe the discussion can encompass all outdoor activities, because danger is everywhere, and the principles of mental preparation are not limited to any specific type of activity.
Let’s start with a few examples to see what you think about their mindsets.
Returning to nature and experiencing a life of fishing and hunting. In 1990, after graduating from university, American youth McCandless donated the $25,000 his friends had raised for his law school tuition to charity and began traveling across the United States. In April 1992, he entered the Alaskan wilderness with only 10 pounds of rice, a semi-automatic rifle, 400 bullets, a few books, and some camping gear. He died of starvation 112 days later, weighing just 60 pounds. His final note read: “I’ve had a happy life and thank the Lord. Goodbye and may God bless everyone.”
The perfect climbing philosophy. Born in 1886, Austrian climbing master Preuss adhered to several climbing principles: only climb routes below one’s ability; never climb routes that cannot be easily descended; no pitons; no ropes; use auxiliary gear only in emergencies; safety is paramount, but safety comes from matching one’s ability to the goal, not from equipment. He always climbed the most difficult walls of his time solo and free, becoming a popular mountaineering speaker. However, death soon caught up with him at age 27—he was found at the bottom of a 360-meter cliff, cause of death unknown.
A domestic example: Liu Xinan, Li Hongxue, and Yan Dongdong. The stories of these young climbers are relatively easy to find, and hikers can look them up themselves. Like European youths of the 19th century, they loved climbing big mountains, unclimbed peaks, and routes no one had attempted before. The difficulty of these routes isn’t considered high by today’s climbing standards; they didn’t climb without protection, using safeguards to ensure as much safety as possible. It could be said their level of risk was lower than that of 19th-century European youths, yet they still unfortunately fell to their deaths.
When I read about these individuals, my first reaction is admiration. I admire their courage and boldness in exploring the unknown world, whether to conquer nature or themselves. It is precisely because of such mindsets that many human breakthroughs have been achieved. I don’t blame them for not benefiting others (their spirit is no different from that of astronauts who dare to take risks) or for the hardship or grief their deaths caused their families (society can still do more to address financial difficulties resulting from accidents). Beyond admiration, I certainly feel regret. But as a society, I believe that in addition to mourning, we shouldcontinue to encourage and support all adventurous endeavors, rather than impulsively banning outdoor activities (banning is not the same as prevention).What society should do is collect accident data, analyze situations objectively, and maintain long-term accident statistics. This can help others use this information as part of their safety education before engaging in outdoor activities.
Note: The phrase “conquering nature” is often misunderstood. Humans are part of nature—we can never truly separate from it (it’s impossible not to be part of it) nor can we ever alter the laws of physics. We can gather stones from mountains to build beautiful houses. We can combine metals, extract fuel, and create airplanes and cars to move faster. We can find suitable materials to wrap ourselves in and stay warm even at -50°C. All of this involves humans moving materials from nature or adjusting our own actions—temporary measures that will eventually be reshaped by natural forces. From another perspective, this is humanity’s effort to modify the natural environment to live more comfortably—this is what is commonly referred to as conquering nature. As for whether we should all emulate McCandless in returning to nature, obtaining minimal sufficient resources from nature (a minor form of conquering nature), and living simply—that’s a personal choice. On the other hand, casually littering, picking plants, or altering natural landscapes in the outdoors—can that be called conquering nature? No. Then, if someone learns to use gear and climbing techniques to safely ascend peaks that even prehistoric cave dwellers couldn’t reach tens of thousands of years ago, during a blizzard—can that be described as conquering nature? I think it can.
After looking at individual cases, let’s now examine the broader picture—the general psychology of the mountaineering community—and try to glean some insights from mountaineering history.
The earliest recorded instance of mountaineering is Oetzi, who lived around 3300 BCE in what is now Italy. He died at 3,210 meters on the Alps and was buried in the “Similaun Glacier.” When the glacier melted, his upper body was exposed and discovered in 1991 by a pair of German hikers. Scientists determined he had been killed by an arrow—possibly the earliest recorded murder mystery. As for why he ventured into the mountains, we can only speculate.
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“Similaun Glacier” burial site of the ancient remains
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Artist’s reconstruction of Oetzi based on scientific research
Before the 18th century, most historically documented climbs were related to military operations, though there were also undocumented activities, mainly part of mountain dwellers’ lives. For example, Sherpas had long crossed high Himalayan passes for trade and transport. In the Alps, shepherds, hunters, and crystal hunters were also active. These impoverished individuals, driven by survival, had to make a living in dangerous high mountains and glaciers, thereby developing climbing skills. It could be said that early mountaineering was for survival.
Modern mountaineering can be traced back to the 18th century (during the Qing Dynasty’s Qianlong era) in Western Europe. In 1760, 20-year-old Geneva scientist Saussure, for his scientific research, came to the Chamonix Valley at the foot of Mont Blanc on the Franco-Italian border. He told local villagers he would reward two gold coins to the first person to find a route to the summit of Mont Blanc (perhaps intending to claim the first ascent himself), thus sparking a local competition to climb Mont Blanc. Mont Blanc—sometimes translated as “White Mountain”—has many glaciers and is covered in snow year-round, hence the name. At 4,810 meters, it is the highest peak in Western Europe and was not then part of France. It’s hard to imagine the 26-year wait until 1786, when two local villagers, Paccard and Balmat, successfully summited. Their descent made headlines in Geneva and the Chamonix region, turning the pair into local heroes.
Paccard was the son of a wealthy family, studying medicine; he was only three years old when Saussure arrived. His summit partner, Balmat, was even younger, born in 1762, a poor man who made a living collecting crystals in the mountains. In 1787, Saussure organized a team of 18 mountain guides, led by Balmat, to accompany him to the summit of Mont Blanc for his scientific work. The conquest of Mont Blanc marked the beginning of modern mountaineering and introduced two new purposes: scientific research, represented by Saussure, and climbing purely for the sake of climbing, represented by Paccard. From then on, scientists began targeting various high peaks, conquering them one by one.
Meanwhile, mountaineers who climbed purely for the sport flocked to Mont Blanc to test their abilities. Upon successful summits and descents, the girls of Chamonix would welcome them as heroes. Equipment and techniques in the western Alps also improved step by step—from initially carrying only a long wooden pole with an iron spike, to later using ropes, ice axes, and crampons.
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Hunter
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The “Sea of Ice Glacier” on the northern side of Mont Blanc (since the 19th century, climate warming has caused the glacier to recede continuously—it no longer looks like this)
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Donkeys led by Alpine guides to climb Mont Blanc in the 19th century (Green Field Commercial Team?)
For over seventy years after that, most climbs were for scientific expeditions. However, another climax of pure mountaineering was brewing in the climbing community. In those days, the British Empire wanted to get its hands on everything, including the first ascents of mountains. Just six days after Saussure’s climb, a Briton became the fourth person to summit Mont Blanc, and the following year another Briton became the fifth. Among the British aristocracy was a group of people passionate about mountaineering—they had money, leisure, and physical stamina, often venturing into the western Alps, hiring local Swiss or French Alpine guides, and spending lavishly on expedition-style climbs (the 20th-century British assault on Everest also used the expedition approach). The golden age of modern mountaineering spanned from 1854 to 1865, with the British dominating the Alpine climbing scene. In 1854, the British conquered the Wetterhorn, and within just 11 years, they had scaled nearly all the virgin peaks over 4,000 meters in the Alps. After conquering the Matterhorn in 1865, only the Meije peak remained, which at the time still posed technical challenges beyond their capabilities.
Wealthy Britons then set out to conquer other high peaks around the world. Meanwhile, Germans, Austrians, and Italians living near the eastern Alps were not idle. These were ordinary people from the general public, lacking the resources for expedition-style climbs, but their own backyards were full of ridges, sub-alpine peaks, and even more difficult and dangerous routes that required higher climbing skills. They began designing modern climbing aids such as pitons, carabiners, harnesses, and climbing shoes. It can be said that the western Alps gave birth to the techniques and equipment for glacier and snow climbing, while the eastern Alps fostered the techniques and equipment for rock climbing.
Conservatively speaking, if we count from the golden age of mountaineering, the tradition of climbing purely for interest has existed for over 150 years. Mountain heights may no longer increase, but the difficulty of routes can be endlessly heightened, and dangers can continually be amplified. Moreover, accidents in the mountains are frequent—just in the Mont Blanc area of France, about a hundred people die each year, including backcountry skiers, technical climbers, and many hiking enthusiasts. Yet people’s enthusiasm for outdoor activities in the mountains shows no signs of waning, with over 20,000 visitors to Mont Blanc every year.
From a historical perspective, the purpose of mountaineering has evolved from military and livelihood needs to scientific exploration, and later to leisure, entertainment, and adventure. Nowadays, it’s a mixed bag with all kinds of motives. Personally, I don’t think any one purpose is more noble or more worthy of human pursuit than others.Everyone has their own needs..
Finally, let’s see what psychologists have to say about this.
The most authoritative explanation is the “sensation-seeking theory.” This theory attempts to explain why people engage in behaviors that disregard physical, social, legal, and financial risks in pursuit of novelty and intense sensations. Scientists have found that people who participate in dangerous outdoor activities share similarities with drug users: they lack the stimulation they crave in daily life, and drugs can fulfill that need, as can the dangers of outdoor sports. The subjects generally believe that risks can be reduced or avoided through effort, training, or careful preparation, and they tend not to worry too much about potential serious injuries, disabilities, or death.
Another finding is that sensation-seekers generally derive greater pleasure from novelty—their brains produce more dopamine, a chemical hormone that induces intense euphoria and drives them to repeatedly seek that pleasure. As for why this group includes more young men, the theory suggests that young men’s brains have well-developed pleasure mechanisms but underdeveloped inhibition mechanisms, leading naturally to risk-seeking (pleasure-driven) behavior while disregarding danger.
Past research has focused mostly on impulsive young individuals, but some believe studies should also include older people who continue to engage in high-risk outdoor activities. Now, some scholars are using phenomenological methods for more detailed research, with subjects not limited to those “impulsive and fearless” young men solely driven by thrill-seeking. They primarily investigate how individuals reflect on their own risky behaviors and then try to identify certain psychological patterns. Preliminary conclusions suggest that participants are fully aware of the risks involved and do experience fear—not as fearless as commonly assumed. I couldn’t wait for these research results and started exploring the psychological processes of some seasoned outdoor enthusiasts myself, while also reflecting on my own mindset in this regard.
If you find these theories plausible, then when choosing outdoor activities, you can step outside your own head and pretend to be a third party observing how you think. Put simply, I’m suggesting that youstrengthen your inhibition mechanisms, heh.