SGPT Interviews Alpinist Chris Warner

In this interview, we dive deep into the incredible story of Chris Warner — a climber, adventurer, and business leader who has summited all fourteen of the world’s 8,000-meter peaks. He’s lived a life shaped by high-stakes challenges, unshakable determination, and an unwavering commitment to helping others along the way.

Chris’s journey didn’t begin in the polished gyms of today but in the raw, untamed outdoors of the 60s and 70s. From solo backpacking trips on the Appalachian Trail as a teenager to pioneering routes in the Himalayas, CW has always pushed the limits. His path was carved with grit, starting with a “feral” childhood, a wilderness program that changed his life, and a relentless drive to grow as a climber and leader.

This interview captures Chris’s evolution—from tying into a hemp rope with a parole officer in New Jersey to leading life-changing wilderness programs and eventually building Earth Treks, a national chain of climbing gyms. Along the way, he learned the true meaning of resilience, camaraderie, and leadership in some of the harshest conditions on Earth.

Chris’s story is one of summits and sacrifices, triumphs and tragedies. It’s about never stepping over the people you meet on the way to the peak and embodying the warrior ethos of strength tempered with compassion.

Let’s dive in.

SGPT Interviews Alpinist Chris Warner

SGPT: Tell us about yourself? Where are you from and where do you train and live now?

CW: I was born in New York City and grew up across the river, in northern New Jersey. I left home at 17 and started to explore the world. While I now live and play in Aspen, Colorado, I’m still not done with more exotic adventure travel.

SGPT: Did you have an athletic outdoor background growing up?

CW: I was a child of the 60s and 70s, so grew up with a mix of traditional sports (football, baseball, wrestling) and outdoor sports (fishing, cycling, running). When I was in middle school my friends and I would go on camping trips. By the time I was in high school I was taking solo backpacking trips on the Appalachian Trail. Back then kids like me were very feral. We had to roam and all that exploration made us ever more curious.

SGPT: So, you have had quite the career and lots of questions to ask. But lets start back at the basics – how and where did you get into rock climbing?

CW: As I said I was very feral….and entrepreneurial. So in tenth grade I was “invited” on wilderness program, with eleven other kids and our town’s parole officer. We were guided by two outdoor instructors, who taught us to use a map and compass to navigate and rock climb. That course changed my life. I vowed to spend the rest of my life taking people on life enriching outdoor adventures. When I turned 18 I started working for that program, taking kids out of the maximum security prison on wilderness therapy trips. Now, immersed in a community of outdoor instructors, I learned even more about rock climbing, backcountry skiing, canoeing, kayaking, etc. It was a magical time and an inspiring peer group. Before I knew it, I was hitch hiking to the Rockies to climb the Grand Teton, ski tour through Yellowstone, climb in South Dakota…

SGPT: Tell us more about your transition from rock climbing to climbing difficult peaks?

CW: When I started rock climbing it was far more adventurous and dangerous than it is today. The prevailing attitude in the late 70s and early 80s, was rock climbing was a subset of mountaineering. You trained on rocks for bigger adventures: longer, harder climbs in more remote ranges. This created a community that was very education focused. Everywhere you went climbers were teaching climbers how to solve climbing riddles, knowing that one day, on some remote peak, it was your skills that would get you to the summit and back alive. You climbed in the Gunks in New York, so you could climb El Cap. The skills you learned in Yosemite you then applied in the Bugaboos. Climbing ice in Colorado, trained you for Alaska or Peru. IF you did it all, you just might be invited on an expedition to the Himalaya.

That’s the journey I went on. I started on a 40 foot tall crag in New Jersey, climbing with a hemp rope tied around my waist, belayed by my parole officer. A year later I was on the summit of the Grand Teton, then taught myself to lead climb, apprenticed to an ice climber, hitchhiked to Yosemite Valley, moved to Boulder, made winter ascents in the Rockies. I was a dirtbag climber, working just enough to pay some bills and save for the next adventure. In Yosemite I met a climbing partner who told me about the mystical mountains of the Andes. Together we went to Peru, where we climbed ten 6000 meter peaks in 8 weeks. One night, over beers, an Irish man told us about an even more spiritual summit, a peak named for the penis of the Hindu god of destruction. Two years later, we traveled to Northern India and climbed Shivling (Shiva’s Lingum) by a new route. In ten years of learning and practicing my craft, I went from New Jersey to the most difficult peaks in the Himalaya.

SGPT: You have climbed all fourteen of the 8,000 meter peaks (list below) – an amazing feat.

Tell us about the style that you took to accomplish such a massive and dangerous goal?

CW: When I arrived in the Himalaya in 1989, it was almost inconceivable to think of climbing the 14 8000-meter peaks. It had been only done twice, by two insanely talented climbers: Rienhold Messner and Jerzy Kukuzcka. After climbing Shivling in India, I traveled to Nepal and happened to be trekking below Lhotse (the world’s 4th tallest peak), when thousands of feet above me, Kukuzcka tragically fell to his death. The 8000ers were infamous because of the fatalities.

To climb them in the late 80s and early 90s, the risks were mitigated by sticking to the “safest” of lines, hiring armies of porters, stringing camps together with miles of ropes and using large teams to equip the mountains with tents, oxygen, food, fuel and stoves. Not only did I think I wasn’t good enough to be chosen for those large, national teams, I wasn’t even attracted to that style of climbing. I wanted to forge new routes, with just a friend or two, up “affordable” peaks. I was part of generation of climbers that believed style trumped summits: “light and fast”, “a rope, a rack and the pack on your back”. The 8000-meter peaks were for expedition climbers and I was an alpinist.

On the day Kukuzcka died I was eyeing a peak called Ama Dablam. A year later, in the winter of 1990, a friend and I pioneered a new route, alpine style, directly up the middle of the West Face. We climbed over 70 roped pitches, bivouacking 3 times on the face. We ran out of food and fuel. Climbing vertical rock without gloves, I suffered frostbite on nine fingers. But we never gave up. According to Summit magazine, it was the hardest route climbed in the Himalaya that year. That route, “The American Direct” did not see a second ascent for 31 years. The 3rd party to climb that route remarked that it was inconceivable how climbers, in winter, in 1990 could have climbed through the difficulties with the “primitive” gear we had.

After Ama Dablam, I followed another dream, building a business. I started my climbing school, Earth Treks, and slowly, but steadily grew it into an international guide service and then a chain of indoor climbing gyms. It took me nearly a decade to return to personal climbing in the Himalaya. In 1999 I switched my focus to climbing the 8000-meter peaks (the economics and permitting process had changed and the big peaks were now accessible to teams of friends). That fall my buddy and I summited Cho Oyu, the world’s 6th tallest peak, without Sherpa support or bottled oxygen. On that expedition I was hired to guide Mount Everest, via Tibet in 2000 (we didn’t summit that year, but I guided clients to the summit in 2001). In the fall of 2001, I went to the South Face of Shisha Pangma, the world’s 14th highest peak. The South Face is 7000 feet tall. It had been soloed once before, by a Polish climber, Kristof Weilicki, who became the 5th person to summit all 14. I climbed that face solo, in a 34 hour, non stop, push up and down, becoming the first American to solo an 8000er. While 2001 was a year of success, in 2002 I failed on K2 and Broad Peak.

In 2003 I was guiding the first ever reality TV show on Everest and during a rescue, I was hit in the head with an oxygen bottle and fought for my life to get off the mountain. In 2004 I climbed Lhotse, alone, without Sherpas or oxygen, but had to abandon my summit of Nanga Parbat to rescue several climbers. In 2005, a friend and I valiantly failed on Broad Peak and K2. In 2007, two friends and I summited K2, without oxygen or Sherpas. We filmed that expedition for NBC and were nominated for an Emmy. I had now been on twelve 8000 meter peak expeditions but only summited five peaks….and my odds were about to plummet. In the next ten years I went on five more expeditions and failed every time. When I look back at that period of my life, I realize that I was far too over-worked to succeed in the style I was trying to climb.

My business had grown to hundreds of employees serving millions of customers every year. We were building the first national chain of indoor climbing gyms, which I eventually sold. It wasn’t until I sold the business that I was able to reasonably focus on personal climbing. In 2019, now retired, I returned to the Himalaya and climbed Makalu, with a strong Sherpa partner (Chhiring Sherpa) and now in my 50s, embracing bottled oxygen. My style transitioned to climbing the peaks as fast as possible. Chhiring and I perfected a style of skipping camps and going straight from the summits to base camp. We traveled light and fast, reducing the risks and increasing our odds. In 2021 we employed those tactics on Annapurna. In 2022 we climbed Dhaulagiri and then Kanchenjunga. And in 2023, we climbed Nanga Parbat, Gasherbrum 1 and 2, and then Broad Peak in a three week stretch. And finally in September of 2023, we summited Manaslu. It took me nearly 24 years and 28 expeditions to become the second American to summit all of the 8000-meter peaks. I’m quite proud of the style in which I did them, perhaps being most proud to having ended my summit pushes five times to save the lives of others (twice they died in my arms). In a sport defined by the death to summit ratio, I failed to summit 50% of the time, but never lost a partner.

SGPT: The year 2023 was crazy good as you were able to summit 5 major peaks (Manaslu, Nanga Parbat, Gasherbrum II, Gasherbrum I, and Broad Peak, all over 26 thousand feet/8000 meters.

Tell us about that year that pushed you over the top to complete all fourteen peaks over 8k meters?

CW: In 2023, I turned 59, at K2 basecamp. It was the fourth birthday I celebrated in that camp. I was getting older, but statistics would tell you that I was climbing at my strongest. In the three weeks leading up to that day, Chhiring and I had summited four 8000-meter peaks (and spent over 10 days walking between base camps). We had perfected our system of climbing light and fast. We joked that we didn’t like to sleep out: instead, we would leave basecamp before dawn, climbing approx. 4-5,000 feet to camp 2 by lunch.

We’d rest in a tent during the heat of the day and by 6 pm we would start climbing the remaining 5-6,000 feet to the summit. Starting up during the last hours of daylight allowed us to climb lightly dressed, with great visibility, and slowly adjust to the night sky, adding layers as we got colder. We would average 600 vertical feet an hour (which is at least double the speed of a normal team). On many peaks we summited in the dark, which is actually magical.

Since we moved so fast, we could carry less oxygen, which allowed us to move even faster. Since we didn’t climb in bulky down suits, we could move much more efficiently. And since we were both so experienced we could manage our pacing, our equipment, our nutrition, etc. with greater ease. We made climbing 8000-meter peaks seem effortless. On most peaks we could go from basecamp to the summit and back to basecamp in under 30 hours. Finally on Manaslu we were so fast that we climbed we reached the summit at 3 a.m. and descended 10,000 vertical feet, reaching basecamp for breakfast.

I’m so grateful for the brutal siege style that we endured on K2 in 2007: fixing thousands of feet of rope, fighting storms, losing 50 pounds of body weight over the course of an 89 day expedition. But with my roots in alpine style climbing, my soul is much more aligned to my climbs of the South Face of Shisha Pangma or Chhiring’s and my ascents in 2023.

SGPT: I know that you have dealt with many setbacks and losses during your climbing expeditions. That you have rescued other climbers in distress on the mountain. What was the hardest part of any climb that you have experienced?

CW: The hardest part of any expedition is, sadly, overcoming the challenges created by other teams. I have witnessed gross incompetence, acts of extreme selfishness, arrogance and narcissism. I’ve saved climbers abandoned by their partners, who left them to die so they could summit. I grew up in a climbing community that had a shared philosophy: don’t reach the peak but miss the point. It is never OK to step over a dying person to reach a summit.

SGPT: How do you deal with major issues like that?

CW: Lead by example. Show the climbing world that you can be a bad ass and caring soul.

SGPT: You have been incredibly successful at business and entrepreneurial endeavors. Tell us about Earth Treks and your time building that amazing business?

CW: I started Earth Treks in 1990, with $592. My team and I built that little company into the first national chain of indoor climbing gyms. While I can spout all sorts of numbers, it wasn’t gross sales or head count that mattered to us, it was about building a community. I believe that we built an amazing community, where staff, customers and our sport grew together into the best version of ourselves. I was proud of all we accomplished and while it was sad to leave my team, I knew that after 28 years, I was ready for a fresh adventure.

SGPT: How do you train in the off season for climbing big peaks?

CW: Whether it is mountaineering, mountain biking or ski mountaineering, I’m passion driven. My heart, more than my brain, pushes me as an athlete. And I’m in that first generation of lifelong endurance athletes. I’ve really been an endurance athlete since I could ride a bike. Now, with 55+ years of endurance base training, it’s easy for me to just keep getting out there. An average week for me includes at least 2 gym sessions to focus on strength and 5-6 endurance days (a minimum of 60 minutes of cardio). I keep my gym sessions simple, but effective, close to the 5 by 5 style of lifting that you can find on the internet.

Every year, as I transition from say biking to skimo, I’ll spend 6-8 weeks doing only Zone 2 cardio. As the season progresses, I add in interval training. The biggest failures I see in the Himalayas is a lack of both power (weight training) and interval training: people get gassed whenever they have to climb over a steep or technically demanding terrain feature. If you don’t have the cardio base with interval training you will collapse and struggle to recuperate from those all-out efforts. At altitude, it is NOT your pace, but the time spent stopping, that will determine your summit success.

SGPT: How did you prepare yourself both mentally and physically before completing your first big alpine climb on Shivling?

CW: I had spent 10 years becoming a climber before I ever went to the Himalayas. And when I arrived there, I knew I was still unprepared. But as I sat in the meadow below that peak, I let my imagination run wild. I imagined my partners and I digging deeper than ever, using our psyche to overcome the challenges. I knew it was going to be a mental and emotional game, more than a physical one. And when the climbing began, that proved true. We were hit with storm after storm. We ran out of food and fuel.

We climbed pitch after pitch of the scariest climbing I’ve ever encountered. And after summiting, I survived a 450 foot fall, through the air, when a rappel anchor failed. Shivling was a fight for survival from beginning to end. It took three friends committed to keeping each other alive, filling our souls with caring after the food ran out, forcing each other to keep moving when we were past exhaustion. While years of training definitely prepared us for that challenge, our mental stamina far exceeded our bodies abilities.

SGPT: You were credited in Arno Ilgners book “The Warriors Way” as being influential in helping Arno see the “warrior processes inside out”. Can you talk a little about that process and how our athletes that may be able to use that in their daily lives?

CW: When Arno was crafting his training, I hired him to share his process with my team and I. We were gungho climbers, but also dedicated climbing instructors. Arno was being overly generous in his description of any impact I had on him. He was the master and I was the student. But as you know, it is through teaching that we truly learn our craft.

We were a very good group of students for him to learn from. While I have so many take aways from my friendship with Arno, the biggest are the techniques he teaches about managing risks. He teaches us to calm our inner voice, by teaching the inner voice to ask the right questions. Risk involves two aspects: incidence and consequence. Is the likelihood high or low, is the consequence high or low. Low incidence, low consequence, get after it. High incidence, high consequence, go home.

SGPT: Any tips for up-and-coming athletes that want to do accomplish a big gnarly outdoor goal? Whether it is climbing a mountain or skiing backcountry?

CW: Find mentors. Build up to the challenge. Don’t die.

SGPT: What good book are you reading now? Are you listening to any good podcasts or audio books you can share?

CW: I’m a voracious reader and let me recommend to this audience: We Die Alone and The Long Walk (by Rawicz).

SGPT: Many thanks for the interview Chris. We greatly appreciate you sharing your extensive knowledge and climbing Mt Elbert last summer with our SGPT group. It was a real treat for our crew and we look forward to seeing you in the summer of 2025.

CW: Brad, we first climbed together nearly 30 years ago. There is a reason why we remained friends through all these years. If we have a wish for the readers of this interview, it’s to find friends that will inspire you. They are a gift.

You can learn more about Chris Warner here: