Lucas, Climbing Coach and Routesetter: €1,408 a Month at a Major Gym Chain
- Matthieu Amaré

- 10 hours ago
- 5 min read
At 32, Lucas coaches kids, sets routes, and works a few front desk shifts at a major national climbing gym chain in France. On a permanent 28-hour-a-week contract, he agreed to open up his finances for Vertige Media’s new series on climbing workers in France.

We were right to call Lucas* on a Thursday afternoon, during his break. Three hours later, he probably would not have picked up. Or maybe he would have, but we would not have gotten much out of him.
“On Thursday nights, don’t talk to me,” he says over the phone. “I go home, take a nap, and then maybe I can have an evening.” There is a reason for that. By then, the climbing coach is usually coming off four hard days in a row.
Lucas’s week is not as predictable as a corporate office job, but it does have a rhythm. On Mondays, he usually spends eight hours route setting — building the climbs on the wall. On Tuesdays, he coaches, sometimes until 10:30 p.m. Wednesdays usually mean seven and a half hours of classes, with two breaks in the middle. On Thursdays, he teaches a high school class, then stacks two or three coaching sessions back to back.
“If I have two or three classes on Thursday, I’m cooked,” he says.
Then comes one day off. After that, he has to put his shoes back on for a weekend day. Sometimes Sunday.
The Work and the Pay
Lucas has been a climbing instructor for six years at a large national chain. Before that, he worked at summer camps.
“I was making two euros an hour, but I was having the time of my life,” he says. That is when he started to see working with kids as a calling. So he decided to combine it with his passion for climbing and earned the French state certification that allowed him to be hired as a work-study employee at the same gym where he still works today.
Now in his early thirties, Lucas has a permanent contract at 80 percent. “I work 28 hours a week,” he says. “But honestly, nobody at the gym is on a 35-hour week except management. Very few people could handle that pace at 35 hours.”
Lucas coaches, sets, works the front desk, tidies up, carries gear, cleans, organizes, and watches the floor. All of it for €1,408 take-home pay a month — about €1,850 gross. There is no 13th-month bonus; his employer does not offer one. Overtime is annualized, taken back as time off, not paid out, unless the total is over the limit at the end of August. Even then, it is capped at 20 hours.
To bring in a little extra, the coach-routesetter-front-desk-worker could in theory count on bonuses. Lucas says “it’s complicated.” What matters is this: the gym uses a collective performance bonus system.
“We all have targets for membership sales, average food and drink spend, and even the gym’s Google reviews,” he explains. The rule is simple. If the team hits the target, everyone gets the bonus. If it misses, no one does.
“I think that’s fair,” Lucas says. “The quality of the gym depends as much on the routesetter as it does on the person at the register. It keeps everyone from only looking out for themselves.”
In 2025, the team received the equivalent of €800 gross in collective bonuses, or about €60 net per month on average.
Lucas also gets the standard benefits that come with working for a small or midsize French company. His employer reimburses 75 percent of his public transit pass. His health insurance is 80 percent covered. He also gets a free membership at every French gym in the network, and he could extend that benefit to a partner.
“Honestly, even at competing gyms, I usually get in for free,” he says. “People are pretty good to each other about that.” Gear — ropes, quickdraws, harnesses, helmets — can be borrowed for the weekend, as long as it is not already booked for a scheduled outing.
Lucas lives in a large French city and gets by on his salary. He is not splurging, but he says he knows he is “very lucky.” His rent is moderate, and he receives about €100 a month from France’s CAF, the public benefits agency, through the country’s low-income work bonus.
When he goes out, he keeps an eye on spending.
“I have drinks at home instead of going to the bar,” he says. “A small concert once in a while, but never anything big. And vacations are usually climbing. Not too far away.”
“I would never complain again if I got to €1,800 a month,” he says. “Even €1,600 would already feel more in line with what’s being asked of us”
What the Job Really Costs
Asked whether he can save money, Lucas says no. He recently bought a car. According to him, every coworker with a car is in the same position. “The only people who put a little money aside are the ones who don’t have one,” he says. “And even then, we’re talking 150 euros max.” Then he adds: “We’re not in poverty, but you can’t have expensive taste.”
He thinks about buying an apartment. But alone, on this salary, it feels far away. “The coworkers who managed to do it had family money for the down payment,” he says. He does not talk much about money with them. It is not really a subject at the gym. Not with his friends outside climbing, either.
What bothers Lucas is not only the number at the bottom of the pay slip. It is the gap between what he earns and the level of responsibility the job demands. “Every night I’m coaching, I could end up at the police station,” he says. “Fifteen seconds at the wrong time and a kid can get seriously hurt, or even die. That stays in the back of your mind.”
For him, the level of attention required is real and constant. The pay does not reflect it.
“I would never complain again if I got to €1,800 a month,” he says. “Even €1,600 would already feel more in line with what’s being asked of us.” He has tried to negotiate. His employer always gives the same answer: “Technically, we can’t pay more.”
Since his work-study contract, Lucas has still received several raises over six years. But at this point, he says the goal is not really to get paid more — he knows that is too complicated — but to ask for specific working conditions.
“When I was hired after my work-study program, I had a list of requests,” he says. “It’s not written into my contract. It’s a verbal agreement. But it’s held.” Schedule adjustments. Only one Sunday worked per month. “That’s not nothing,” he says.
Lucas is not unionized. He would like to be. He thinks it matters. At the same time, he cannot see himself doing this job for years. “I give myself four or five years,” he says. “After that, I could see myself still coaching, but independently, and more outdoors. People don’t realize how exhausting the noise in a climbing gym is. It’s constant: the drill, kids yelling, music, the bar, the restaurant. It wears you down. At the crag, I’m sure you could work more hours and feel less tired.”
That is part of what he wishes customers understood. Behind the front desk smile and the energy he brings to classes, “there are a lot of hassles.” Enough, in any case, for Lucas to offer this advice to young people thinking about getting into the job: “You’ll laugh a lot. Just don’t expect to get rich.”
*Name has been changed.













