David Göttler: "I climbed Everest alone without oxygen, and I didn't reach the summit because there were too many people up there."

BarcelonaA few months ago, David Göttler (Munich, 1978) reached the summit of Nanga Parbat, at 8,125 meters, the ninth highest mountain in the world. He did it without Sherpas, without base camps, climbing with little equipment and opening a new route. It took him days to climb this key mountain in the history of mountaineering in his country, because Germans had summited it first in 1934. But it took him only thirty-five minutes to reach base camp. His companions arrived three days later. The secret? He went paragliding. No one had ever flown a paraglider above 7,000 meters before. Göttler is a cheerful man with a great sense of humor. A friend of Kilian Jornet, the ARA welcomed him at the Barrabes store in Barcelona, ​​after the presentation of the collection. Advanced Mountain Kit from The North Face, which he helped develop.

How did you fall in love with the mountains?

— My father also climbed and paraglided. I grew up in Munich, and every weekend we went to the mountains, to the Alps, which are an hour's drive away. Always on the lookout for adventures, we never stayed overnight in a hotel. I didn't sleep in a hotel until we went with the school; with Dad, we always spent the night in tents. That's how I grew up. I didn't play sports like other kids. Well, one year I signed up for ice hockey, but they kicked me out because I was too young.

When you managed to climb Everest solo, do you remember those moments? Do you think about your father and your childhood in the Alps?

— I like to think I'm still that kid, but I've changed. Sometimes I look back and think, "I've really come a long way!" "I've done some things!" And it's always a slow progression. Now there are people who want to go straight from a peak near their home to reaching an 8,000-meter peak. They consume the mountains, they don't enjoy them. I enjoy them and learn; I've been doing it little by little, enjoying all the things that were close by. Then I go further and finally reach the 8,000-meter peak. A slow, progressive, and patient path.

This path has led him to live in Cantabria.

— I admit it, when I was young I thought Spain was a dry place where it was very hot (smiles). My girlfriend's family is from there, and I've discovered a paradise where you have the sea and the mountains in the same place. But I miss the glaciers and the snow. That's why I spend a few months in Cantabria and in winter I go to Chamonix. And in between, I go to Nepal or Pakistan, looking for adventure.

Where does the desire to climb these peaks on solitary adventures or with few people come from?

— You need motivation: to know why you're doing something. I wanted to climb Nanga Parbat like crazy. I wanted to summit that peak without a set route, without Sherpas, with only a few people. It's like a donkey with a carrot in front of it that makes it walk. Climbing Nanga Parbat was my carrot; I wanted to blaze a trail. If I had followed the existing paths, I would have done it easily, but that wasn't what I felt like doing. I climb because I want to, to see if I can do it without oxygen, to understand myself better. If I do it to impress or outdo other people, it's dangerous.

And where does the idea of flying come from?

— I was already flying when I was seventeen. And I always had in mind the idea of combining mountaineering and paragliding. That is, if I go up, I take advantage of it to fly down. And I wasn't able to do that until I had equipment like what I went up with; the paraglider weighed 1.5 kg. When I go up, I never think about whether I'll be able to fly down; I focus on the ascent. Keep in mind that up there, the weather and wind conditions are complicated; the chances of flying down are very small. At the summit, in fact, it was impossible, but when we descended to 7,700 meters, there was an ideal moment. And I did it. That moment when you're flying over the Himalayas and seeing that view... it was exciting to see the world from a different perspective. The sun was setting, the light was beautiful. And it was a smooth descent, I was able to enjoy it. First, I called out euphorically, and then, the silence. It was beautiful.

You can't always fly down, and you can't always reach the summit. How do you manage this?

— It helps you manage your ego. Yes, I'm not the strong guy who can handle everything. That's not the case. The mountain often makes you come back, and you have to accept that. It's often hard because you see the summit close, but you have to turn back. On Everest, it happened to me twice, but I didn't reach the summit. I accepted it. But in 2022, I went alone. I waited until the end of the season, and when I got there, I was alone. I wasn't sure if it was really the summit because no one told me. But when I saw the views and the objects people had left behind, I understood. I was alone for eight minutes on top of the world.

He also acts as a guide. What's it like seeing the crowded mountains?

— Bad. I'll tell you a story. In 2019, I climbed Everest alone and without oxygen. And with about 100 meters left, I cut in front of the queue because it was packed with people! There was a huge queue, and without oxygen, I couldn't wait.

To do?

— I don't know. Who am I to tell people they can't go to beautiful places like these? I can't tell them to leave it to the professionals. Maybe we should educate people differently, make them understand that maybe something isn't right if the only high mountain you'll ever climb is, of all places, Everest. And you'll do it with people who bring everything for you, who help you. It's a complicated debate. Now they litter the base camps and the valleys, and it leaves a negative impact. But what's the solution? Do I have to tell the Sherpas and the people of Nepal to stop welcoming so many people just because we have a romanticized idea of the Himalayas? Should we tell them this when this is their only source of income? And if we set high prices to regulate it, we'll only have millionaires, and climbers who love the mountains won't be able to go. I'm not sure of the solution. Maybe we should tell people that they should find their own Everest, that it should be their challenge. And your Everest may be in the Pyrenees, the Alps or the Picos de Europa.

How did you meet Kilian Jornet?

The community that does these things is small. We all end up knowing each other. Kilian and I have mutual friends, and the idea of attempting Everest came up. I was nervous; he's such a strong guy that I was afraid I wouldn't be able to keep up with him. I learned a lot from him; he's a humble, good-natured man. I think few people really understand what he's done in the United States now. If you say you've summited Everest, you understand. If you explain what Kilian did by climbing so many summits in just a few days, you don't really get the picture.