Philipp Munkler (* 24.05.1995  -  † 17.07.2023)

Mountain climbers and mountaineers

Mountain accident

On July 17, 28-year-old Allgäu alpinist and climbing coach Philipp Munkler had an accident in the area between the Wetterspitzen and Wetterwandeck mountains. He was alone on the rarely used Plattum circuit from the Zugspitze to the Gatterl, along the ridge along the German-Austrian border. This is not a designated route. The tour includes complicated climbing sections corresponding to grades three and four. After he failed to contact a friend as agreed, he was reported missing the following morning and discovered that afternoon by a police helicopter near the mountain station of the former "Neue Welt" chairlift. Because the helicopter was unable to land due to weather conditions, three members of the Garmisch-Partenkirchen Mountain Rescue Service made their way there on foot. However, the doctor could only pronounce him dead after the approximately 150-meter fall. His body was recovered by a police helicopter the following day.

Source: de.wikipedia.org (Liste von Todesfällen an der Zugspitze)

Philipp Munkler

A talented youngster from the Allgäu region tells his story ...(allgaeu-plaisir.de)

Do you sometimes feel afraid?

"When I'm out and about, I'm usually not afraid. The important thing is to know that you have control over what you're doing... If you're afraid, something will go wrong – I would rather talk about respect for the dangers. I tend to feel afraid before I start an activity, because lots of thoughts go through my head: what could go wrong, who to tell about my plans, etc. I think a lot about my actions, and sometimes you can be critical of whether you're taking the best approach as a mountaineer. I become particularly thoughtful when friends have bad accidents, fall, or suffer very serious injuries."

The following report comes from Philipp, a climbing instructor and colleague from the Allgäu region, with whom I enjoy spending time on the rocks and walls. This summer, he completed a project in which he impressively demonstrated what we humans are capable of!

"It's 1 a.m., quickly finish your cereal and then it's time for a “special journey.” A 33-hour trip (without sleep or aids).

A trip that will push my limits, bring beautiful emotions, but also low points and loneliness.

Around 6000 meters of elevation gain and 45 km of exposed terrain as well as 80 km of cycling await. The climbing tour repeat task with two pitches in the lower sixth degree (rope-free) and five ridges in the classic Allgäufels want to be conquered.

A terrain that allows no mistakes. A collapse or an exhausted stumble could have fatal consequences. A broken hold or foothold in the partly splintered rock of the west face of the Fuchskarspitze would lead to a fall. In addition to the long preparation, fate also decides what will happen in the next 33 hours.

What is the motivation behind such a (foolish) tour?

Why this torture, this risk, why voluntarily give up sleep – isn't sleep deprivation normally a method of torture?

It is difficult to find a good answer to these questions.

But this tour is like a premiere, after a wonderful but exhausting period of preparation.

I'm taking this path because I know what priceless experiences I will have.

An adventure that I can draw on for a long time in my everyday life.

Off I go on my bike through the night; the streets are still empty.

A watch measures my pulse, because a slow start will have a positive effect on the hours ahead.

My thoughts keep circling around the upcoming solo tour.

Part of the preparation was to climb the tour without ropes. But how will it all work with sleep deprivation?

Everything is going according to plan, and we have reached the Prinz Luidtpoldhaus material cable car.

We make quick work of the hike to the hut and then on to the Wiedemer. It is 6:30 a.m., the sun is rising, and its warming rays provide motivation. The rugged and rocky peaks are illuminated by a beautiful orange light. The Fuchskarspitzen, the Hochvogel, the Wilden, the Höfats, and in the distance, the Trettach. The sight and the idea of climbing all these peaks in one go is both motivating and frightening.

We run over the Wiedemergrat to the Kreuzspitze and back down to the west face of the northern Fuchskarspitze.

The approximately 300-meter-high rock face looks imposing, and I'm glad to be alone.

Somehow, it always feels wrong to climb the wall with climbing shoes and chalk without a harness and rope.

My focus is good, but on the fourth pitch I suddenly feel a sense of respect. The rock here seems a little brittle and it's quite exposed. By breathing correctly, I manage to control the slight trembling in my legs and can continue climbing with determination.

The key sections through a dihedral and a small overhang are easy to navigate.

It's always nice to move in a controlled manner in exposed terrain.

Upon reaching the summit, I am overcome by a feeling of absolute freedom.

But the way is still long, and we quickly make our way over the Madonna to the southern Fuchskarspitze. Then it's on to the Hochvogel (it's crazy what's going on here) and the Wildengrat.

The route to the Great Wild One is long and monotonous, and the climbing sections are more on scree than on actual rock. The first signs of exhaustion are setting in. The heat is torturous and my body is losing nutrients and fluids. But my mind has learned to cope with such circumstances. A few hours later, I can finally refill my bottle and set off towards the Höfats. This grassy mountain is a landmark of the Allgäu region. I want to cross all four peaks and descend the steep meadow towards the mountain guard hut.

At the eastern summit of the Höfts, I have already covered between 3,000 and 4,000 meters of altitude running and climbing, as well as 40 km of cycling. It is becoming increasingly difficult to stay focused. The climb to the summit is not particularly difficult. However, the narrow ridge with brittle rock and steep grass requires full concentration once again.

During the descent over the steep “Allgäu terrain,” I suddenly experience tunnel vision. Everything goes like in a movie, and exhausted, I make my way down the meadow. In Gerstruben, my physical therapist Kristof is already waiting with dinner.

 Franzi brings me a second bike to the Renksteg parking lot. They are both amazed; from the outside, I probably still look fresh.

My legs are also still in good shape. It's nice to talk about what I've experienced so far.

It has gotten dark in the meantime. Despite the onset of rain, the decision is made to continue the tour.

So we head into the second night and cycle to Einödsbach.

The path to Wildegundköpfe is not easy to find at night.

It's an eerie feeling to walk alone through the dark beech forest.

After a while, I start to feel exhausted.

My legs hurt and my stomach feels queasy. I feel lonely and think how nice it would be to get some sleep right now. But I tell myself that the best option is to keep climbing. “It won't be long now,” I think to myself.

I drag myself on toward the Alpegundkopf.

Suddenly, thick fog rolls in.

In this cold, damp weather, I try to keep warm with rescue blankets and a bivouac sack. But after two hard hours (half awake, half asleep), the fog lifts. A sign that I should continue on my way.

On the western ridge of the Trettach, I am rewarded with a second sunrise. From here, I can see all the peaks and ridges I have crossed. It's an incredible feeling.

I enjoy the last break at the summit before heading back towards Einödsbach.

On the descent, my bones start to ache. That's enough... My pelvis hurts and my movements resemble limping rather than walking. The pain is agonizing and my tunnel vision has disappeared.

At around 9:30 a.m., I finally reach my bike.

The ride back is long. But at 11 a.m., I'm home.

Completely exhausted, I open a beer – would I do something like this again?

Hmm... Yes, I think so. But next year." Philipp Munkler