The Third Eye: Tomaž Humar's Audacious Solo of Dhaulagiri South Face

Rising 4,000 vertical meters in a terrifying sweep of splintered limestone, blue ice, and hanging serac barriers, the South Face of Dhaulagiri I (8,167m) is widely regarded as one of the most formidable alpine walls on Earth. First attempted in the late 1970s and 1980s by powerhouse international teams using heavy siege tactics, fixed lines, and dozens of high-altitude climbers, the wall had gained a deadly reputation for claiming lives in sweeping avalanches. To attempt it solo in pure alpine style seemed to defy human sanity.

Yet in October 1999, 30-year-old Slovenian alpinist Tomaž Humar arrived alone at the bottom of the wall with a radical vision. Having lost his close friend and mentor Janez Jeglič on Nuptse two years earlier, Humar possessed an almost spiritual intensity regarding high mountains. He refused fixed ropes, dismissed high-altitude porter support, and carried no supplemental bottled oxygen. On his back was a single lightweight rucksack containing minimal dried rations, a lightweight single-skin tent, two ice axes, and a few titanium screws.

The Crucible of the Lower Wall

On October 24, 1999, Humar stepped over the bergschrund onto the lower apron of the face. Temperatures plummeted immediately to -25°C. Moving with swift, rhythmic swings of his tools, Humar negotiated vertical ice flutings under constant bombardment from falling ice and spindrift. Within the first two days, he realized the central gully—the natural drain of the entire face—was a slaughterhouse of spontaneous avalanches.

Instead of retreating, Humar executed a daring rightward traverse across delicate 80-degree mixed slabs, balancing on crampon front-points above several thousand meters of clean exposure. Each evening, as darkness engulfed the Kali Gandaki valley far below, Humar had to carve out tiny notches in steep blue ice just wide enough to sit inside his sleeping bag, anchored only by ice screws.

The Battle with Spindrift and Delirium

By October 29, climbing above 7,000 meters, Humar was battling severe exhaustion and the debilitating effects of extreme altitude. A sudden Himalayan storm system enveloped Dhaulagiri, unleashing blinding snow squalls and hurricane-force winds. Spindrift avalanches poured directly over his tiny bivouac ledge, threatening to smother him inside his frozen nylon shelter.

Using a lightweight satellite phone, Humar established brief morning contact with his base camp team, led by medical officer Stipe Božić. His voice sounded calm but otherworldly: “I am not alone here. The mountain is talking, and I must listen carefully to every creak.” In Slovenia, millions of citizens followed his daily progress online in real time, mesmerized by one of the earliest live internet broadcasts of an extreme Himalayan ascent.

Reaching the Ridge and the Summit

On November 1, running dangerously low on food and fuel, Humar breached the upper rock band at 7,800 meters. The technical difficulties were ferocious—loose, shattered rock covered in unconsolidated powder that offered zero security for his ice axes. Summoning every ounce of mental resilience, he pulled onto the Southeast Ridge at 8,000 meters, leaving the terrifying vertical void behind him.

On November 2, 1999, after nine days of solitary combat on the wall, Tomaž Humar stood atop the 8,167-meter summit of Dhaulagiri I. Weeping with emotion and overwhelmed by relief, he radioed Base Camp: “I am on top. It is over.” Reinhold Messner, the father of modern alpine style, hailed the climb as “the greatest Himalayan achievement of the decade,” solidifying Humar’s place among the boldest high-altitude soloists in mountaineering history.