From Sethan to Lahaul: Safe Terrain Teaches Unsafe Habits

Sethan has always been a backcountry place.

For years now, local skiers and snowboarders have been hiking, boot packing, skinning, and riding there. Lapping lines, riding during storm days, spending long days out in the mountains. 

Sethan has played a big role in shaping the contemporary backcountry scene in upper Kullu Valley , especially for local riders.

And it has done a lot of good.

The terrain in Sethan is not small. From the Dome down to the village, there are long, continuous slopes. Big views. Big turns. Real lines. People ski steep sections, ride powder during storms, and move through proper mountain terrain.

But what Sethan offers, more than anything else, is forgiving terrain.

The runouts are often long and gentle. If something moves, it usually runs far, but not violently. You can make mistakes there. Many people have. And most of the time, you still make it home.

Sethan gives space to experiment, to feel the snow, to understand how movement and terrain work, and to slowly build confidence.

Over time, though, that forgiveness also shapes habits.

You start trusting that things.

You get used to skiing without avalanche gear. You get comfortable making decisions on the go. Nothing bad happens, so the system feels proven.

Slowly, without anyone really noticing, that becomes the normal way of thinking about backcountry skiing.

And now, that same confidence is moving into Lahaul.

This is where the gap begins to show.

Lahaul is not Sethan with more space or bigger views. It is a different winter environment altogether. The terrain is broader and more connected. Slabs are larger. Start zones feed into each other. Runouts are not just long — they are consequential.

Winter in Lahaul, especially in January, February, and early March, is very different. 

The snowpack is colder and more complex. Weak layers can stay active for weeks. Wind builds slabs quietly. 

The main issue is not lack of stoke or lack of time spent in the mountains. The issue is carrying habits learned in forgiving terrain into terrain that does not forgive.

People are now riding in Lahaul without transceivers, without probes, without shovels. Often alone, or in groups where nobody really knows what to do if something goes wrong.

There is often no shared plan. No way to respond if a friend gets buried. Decisions are still made casually: spot a line from the road, walk up, ride down.

Sometimes that works. Until it doesn’t.

This is not about blaming anyone or saying people are careless.

Lahaul does not teach that lesson.

Nothing serious has happened in Lahaul yet. And that is exactly why this moment matters.

Mountain accidents rarely come from one big, dramatic decision. They come after many normal days where nothing went wrong.

Of course, avalanche education matters. Learning how snow behaves, how terrain works, and how winter problems change through the season is important.

Carrying avalanche safety gear — a transceiver, shovel, and probe — and knowing how to use it properly is also important.

But none of that works on its own.

More than anything else, what really needs to change is how we make decisions.

This matters even more now, because some of the same young riders who grew up skiing Sethan are stepping into professional roles.

They are beginning to guide, to tour with foreigners, to take responsibility for other people’s safety in winter mountains.

For that transition to be healthy, avalanche safety cannot remain just gear or information. It has to become part of the decision-making culture.