Reinhold Messner

Reinhold Messner stands as one of the most extraordinary figures in the history of human exploration, a man whose life reads like an impossible fantasy of courage, determination, and sometimes heartbreaking tragedy. Born on September 17, 1944, in the German-speaking village of Villnoss in South Tyrol, Italy, Messner would grow to become what many consider the greatest mountaineer who ever lived, though his path to legend would be paved with both triumph and devastating loss.

The story of Reinhold Messner begins in the dramatic landscape of the Dolomites, where his father Josef, a strict village schoolteacher, first introduced him to the mountains when he was just five years old. Josef Messner was an authoritarian figure who ran his household of nine children with military precision, but he also possessed a deep love for the mountains that he passed to his sons. That first climb to a 3,000-meter peak at such a tender age would prove prophetic, setting young Reinhold on a course that would define his entire existence.

Growing up in post-war South Tyrol presented unique challenges. As Messner would later explain, there were no football pitches or swimming pools available to children in their remote mountain village. The only playground was the vertical world of rock and ice that surrounded them. This limitation became liberation, as Reinhold and his younger brother Gunther threw themselves into climbing with an intensity that bordered on obsession. By age thirteen, Reinhold was already attempting difficult routes in the Dolomites alongside eleven-year-old Gunther, and their partnership would become the stuff of climbing legend.

The Messner brothers embraced what was then called alpine-style climbing, a philosophy that emphasized speed, light equipment loads, and self-reliance over the expedition-style sieges that were common on major peaks. This approach required extraordinary physical conditioning and mental toughness. Reinhold subjected himself to grueling training regimens that included running up mountains with heavy packs, practicing technical moves until his fingers bled, and developing the psychological fortitude necessary to face death regularly.

By the late 1960s, the Messner brothers had established themselves as among Europe's finest climbers, completing over 500 ascents in their first four years of serious climbing, mostly in the Dolomites. Their reputation for bold, technically difficult routes spread throughout the European climbing community. They were inspired by the legendary Austrian climber Hermann Buhl, who in 1953 had made the first ascent of Nanga Parbat, the ninth-highest mountain in the world, in a remarkable solo push to the summit.

Buhl had written in his account that the southern Rupal Face of Nanga Parbat, a sheer 4,300-meter wall of rock and ice, could never be climbed by human beings. For Reinhold Messner, this statement became an irresistible challenge that would change his life forever.

In 1970, the Messner brothers joined Karl Herrligkoffer's expedition to Nanga Parbat. Herrligkoffer was a complicated figure in mountaineering history, a doctor who had organized multiple expeditions to the mountain after his half-brother Willy Merkl died there in 1934. The expedition was plagued by personality conflicts from the beginning, with the creative and independent-minded Reinhold clashing repeatedly with Herrligkoffer's rigid, authoritarian leadership style.

On June 27, 1970, against explicit orders from Herrligkoffer, Reinhold decided to make a solo summit attempt. He set off alone at two in the morning, climbing by headlamp through the treacherous Merkl Couloir. What happened next became one of the most controversial events in mountaineering history. Gunther, seeing his brother high above on the mountain face, impulsively abandoned the ropes he was fixing and sprinted up the couloir to catch up with Reinhold.

The brothers reached the summit together late in the afternoon, but Gunther was showing signs of severe exhaustion and altitude sickness. As evening fell, they were forced to bivouac near the summit with only space blankets for protection. The next morning, with Gunther too weak to descend the difficult Rupal Face, Reinhold made a fateful decision. They would attempt the first-ever traverse of Nanga Parbat by descending the theoretically easier Diamir Face on the opposite side of the mountain.

During the descent, Reinhold went ahead to scout the route, leaving Gunther to rest. When he returned, his brother had vanished. Reinhold found only signs of a recent avalanche. Gunther Messner was never seen alive again, and Reinhold barely survived the descent, losing seven toes to frostbite and arriving at the base of the mountain more dead than alive, rescued by local shepherds.

The tragedy haunted Reinhold for decades and generated a vicious controversy that would follow him for the rest of his life. Several expedition members, including Hans Saler and Max von Kienlin, accused Reinhold of abandoning his brother in pursuit of personal glory, claiming that Gunther had actually died on the Rupal Face and that Reinhold had invented the traverse story to cover up his abandonment. These accusations led to lawsuits, bitter public disputes, and years of anguish for Reinhold, who was already devastated by the loss of his beloved brother.

The controversy would only be resolved decades later when, in 2005, one of Gunther's boots was discovered on the Diamir Face at 4,400 meters, with DNA analysis confirming the remains belonged to Gunther. In 2022, the second boot was found, definitively proving that Reinhold's account had been accurate all along. The emotional moment when Pakistani climber Liver Khan returned the second boot to Reinhold was captured on video, showing the aging mountaineer finally receiving vindication for his version of events.

Rather than retreating from mountaineering after this tragedy, Reinhold threw himself into ever more ambitious projects with an intensity that suggested he was trying to outrun his grief. In 1975, he and Peter Habeler climbed Gasherbrum I in Pakistan, becoming the first team to ascent an 8,000-meter peak in pure alpine style, without fixed ropes, camps, or supplemental oxygen. This achievement revolutionized high-altitude mountaineering and proved that Hermann Buhl's lightweight, fast-and-light approach could work on the world's highest peaks.

But Reinhold's most famous achievement came in 1978 when he and Habeler became the first people to climb Mount Everest without supplemental oxygen. The climbing establishment had declared this impossible, believing that the human body could not function at extreme altitude without artificial assistance. Medical experts predicted that attempting Everest without oxygen would result in permanent brain damage or death. When Messner and Habeler proved the experts wrong, reaching the summit on May 8, 1978, they fundamentally changed how the world viewed human potential.

The partnership with Habeler ended acrimoniously after Habeler published a book that Messner felt downplayed his role in their climbs. This pattern of fractured relationships would repeat throughout Messner's career, as his enormous ego and inability to share credit drove away many climbing partners and friends. As one contemporary observed, Messner was capable of great loyalty and generosity, but he demanded absolute recognition for his achievements and could be ruthless with anyone who challenged his version of events.

Two years after the Everest ascent, Messner attempted something even more audacious: a solo ascent of Everest without oxygen during monsoon season. Setting off from the Tibetan side of the mountain on August 18, 1980, he spent three days alone on the mountain, battling fierce winds, extreme cold, and the psychological pressure of complete isolation. His girlfriend at the time, Nena Holguin, barely recognized him when he returned, describing a yellow-faced, hollow-eyed ghost of a man who wept uncontrollably.

During this solo climb, Messner experienced what he later described as the "Third Man Syndrome," a psychological phenomenon where exhausted climbers sense the presence of an unseen companion. In his book "The Naked Mountain," he wrote of suddenly feeling that there was a third climber beside him during the descent, maintaining a regular distance just outside his field of vision. This mysterious presence never spoke but somehow helped him survive when his strength was failing. Such experiences are well-documented among extreme athletes and explorers, representing the mind's attempt to cope with life-threatening isolation and stress.

Messner's solo Everest climb represented what he called the "icing on the cake" of his mountaineering career, though decades later he would reflect that the Nanga Parbat tragedy remained more deeply embedded in his consciousness than any of his triumphs. The solo ascent established him as not just a great climber but as someone willing to push human limitations to their absolute breaking point.

Between 1970 and 1986, Messner methodically climbed all fourteen of the world's peaks above 8,000 meters, always without supplemental oxygen. This achievement, which has since been completed by fewer than fifty people, required not just extraordinary physical ability but also the financial resources and logistical skills to organize expeditions to some of the world's most remote and politically unstable regions. Messner's approach to these climbs emphasized innovation and risk-taking over brute force sieges, establishing new routes and climbing techniques that influenced a generation of mountaineers.

But Messner's appetite for adventure extended far beyond vertical challenges. In 1989-90, he and German explorer Arved Fuchs completed the first crossing of Antarctica on foot without motorized vehicles or dog sleds. The 2,800-kilometer journey took 92 days in temperatures reaching minus 40 degrees Celsius, with winds up to 150 kilometers per hour. The expedition was fraught with tension between the two men, whose personalities and approaches clashed repeatedly. Their relationship deteriorated so badly that they could barely speak to each other by the end, yet they completed one of the great polar journeys in exploration history.

Messner also crossed the Gobi Desert alone, covering over 2,000 kilometers on foot, and traversed Greenland using similar self-reliant methods. These expeditions demonstrated his belief that human beings could still accomplish meaningful exploration in an age when technology was making adventure increasingly mechanical and predictable.

Throughout his career, Messner maintained a complex relationship with fame and public attention. He craved recognition for his achievements while simultaneously resenting the demands that celebrity placed on his time and privacy. He was famous for his volcanic temper and his ability to hold grudges for decades. Many of his expeditions ended in bitter disputes with teammates who felt they had not received proper credit for their contributions.

Messner's philosophical approach to mountaineering was heavily influenced by Friedrich Nietzsche, whom he quoted frequently in interviews and books. Like Nietzsche, Messner believed in pushing beyond conventional limitations and creating one's own values through direct confrontation with extreme challenges. He saw mountains not as opponents to be conquered but as teachers that revealed fundamental truths about human nature. His famous quote, "Mountains are neither fair nor unfair; they are simply dangerous," encapsulated his view that nature operates by its own rules, indifferent to human hopes and fears.

This philosophical bent led Messner into some controversial territory, including his investigation of the Yeti legend. After claiming to have encountered an unknown creature during a 1986 expedition in eastern Tibet, he spent years researching local folklore and conducting expeditions to solve the mystery. His conclusion that large Tibetan blue bears were the source of Yeti sightings satisfied neither scientists nor cryptozoology enthusiasts, but it demonstrated his willingness to apply serious investigational methods to seemingly fantastical questions.

Messner's personal life has been as dramatic as his climbing career. He has been married three times and has four children from his previous relationships. His current wife, Diane Schumacher, is 36 years younger than him, and their 2021 marriage has been a source of both happiness and family tension. In recent interviews, Messner has spoken candidly about his estrangement from his children following a bitter inheritance dispute that began when he distributed much of his wealth to them while still alive.

The inheritance controversy reveals the darker side of Messner's personality. Despite having accumulated considerable wealth through his climbing achievements, books, and lecture tours, he has expressed bitter disappointment that his children do not sufficiently appreciate his generosity. His public airing of these family grievances has shocked many who expected more privacy and dignity from the aging legend.

Messner has channeled much of his later energy into the Messner Mountain Museum project, a network of six museums located in South Tyrolean castles and other dramatic locations. These museums, which opened between 1995 and 2015, showcase mountain cultures, climbing history, and Messner's personal collections from his worldwide expeditions. His residence at medieval Juval Castle includes extensive Tibetan artifacts, adventure literature, and mask collections from five continents, creating a unique blend of historical architecture and global mountain culture.

The museums represent Messner's attempt to create a lasting educational legacy beyond his personal achievements. They address topics ranging from the geology of mountains and the religious significance of peaks in various cultures to the history of mountaineering equipment and techniques. The centerpiece, MMM Firmian at Sigmundskron Castle near Bolzano, introduces visitors to what Messner calls "man's encounter with mountains," emphasizing the philosophical and spiritual dimensions of mountaineering alongside its technical aspects.

Messner's literary output has been as prolific as his climbing achievements, with over 80 books published in multiple languages. These works range from detailed expedition accounts to philosophical meditations on the meaning of adventure in modern life. His writing style tends toward the dramatic and introspective, often focusing on the psychological challenges of extreme situations rather than just the technical details of his climbs.

Now approaching his 80th birthday, Messner remains a polarizing figure in the mountaineering world. His supporters view him as the greatest mountaineer in history, a man who revolutionized high-altitude climbing and proved that human beings could achieve seemingly impossible feats through sheer determination and innovative technique. His critics see an egomaniac whose need for recognition led him to exaggerate his achievements and diminish the contributions of his partners.

What cannot be disputed is the scope and significance of Messner's achievements. His innovations in alpine-style climbing, his proof that 8,000-meter peaks could be climbed without oxygen, and his completion of the fourteen highest summits established new standards for what was possible in mountaineering. His polar expeditions and desert crossings demonstrated that meaningful exploration could still be conducted in an increasingly mapped and mechanized world.

Perhaps most importantly, Messner's career embodied a philosophy of adventure that emphasized personal responsibility, direct engagement with natural forces, and the courage to risk everything in pursuit of seemingly impossible goals. His famous declaration that "I expose myself, I accept the natural powers as the rulers of my world" captures his belief that true adventure requires surrendering human control and submitting to forces larger than oneself.

The tragedy of Gunther's death continues to define Messner's legacy in ways that his greatest triumphs cannot erase. The decades-long controversy over what happened on Nanga Parbat, and the late vindication provided by the discovery of his brother's remains, illustrate both the brutal realities of extreme mountaineering and the complex psychology of a man driven to prove himself repeatedly in the world's most dangerous places.

Reinhold Messner represents the last generation of explorers who could claim to be pushing into genuinely unknown territory through pure human effort. His achievements bridged the gap between the classical age of exploration and the modern era of technological adventure, proving that individual human beings could still accomplish feats that seemed to belong to an earlier, more heroic age. Whether viewed as hero or antihero, his life stands as one of the most remarkable adventure stories of the modern era, a testament to the extraordinary heights that human ambition and determination can reach when freed from conventional limitations.