He climbs through the death zone with inhuman endurance. He's about to become the first American in history to climb the 14 tallest peaks on earth without supplemental oxygen. He has become an international mountaineering star and makes a killer living as an inspirational speaker. So why is Ed Viesturs so nice, so humble...so cool?

The man who would not be Superman gazes out across the lapping waves of Puget Sound to a distant place where Rainier, mountain of his evolution, pokes its icy crest through roiling clouds.

A late-winter storm has lashed the Pacific Northwest for hours, but inside Ed VIESTURS resides total calm. Always has, probably always will. Steady Eddie. Imperturbable. Unflappable. The man who flies where others die. The strongest expedition climber in the U.S., perhaps the world. The man who climbed Mt. Everest five times. Who, as we sit here in a Seattle bayside hotel, is mentally packing his bags for an expedition to climb two more of the Himalayan peaks that surpass the magic gauge of 8,000 meters.

Fourteen such mountains rise above the tortured fabric of the Himal, from Pakistan to Nepal to Tibet. When Viesturs-a 40-year-old flatlander from northern Illinois-scaled Dhaulagiri and Manaslu last spring, he vaulted within two summits of the Holy Grail of mountaineering.

In the more than three-quarters of a century since outsiders first fixated on ascending these lofty places, only six others have climbed all 14. Viesturs hopes, no expects, to become the first American to achieve a feat first accomplished in 1986 by the famous Italian Reinhold Messner. Like Messner, he'll do it without supplemental oxygen. That he achieves all this with such utter calm and relative lack of effort prompted David Breashears, the American adventurer and filmmaker who himself has climbed Everest four times, to call Viesturs "the closest thing to Superman I've ever met."

With unrelenting modesty, Viesturs claims he really isn't that special, that there have been climbers stronger than he. Yet when one begins a list, there is a shocking discovery. Nearly all the others are dead.

Above all, Viesturs is a survivor, an achievement rooted in a twin truism: He is almost totally devoid of ego while possessing a remarkable physiology that allows him the luxury of supreme confidence and infinite patience in that lofty realm called the death zone. He is not afraid of transitory failure. If he doesn't make it today, he'll try again tomorrow. Or next week. Or next year. Possessing such an extraordinary engine, Viesturs seldom need worry or hurry.

On a notable 1993 expedition, he made seven separate solo attempts on Everest, pushing deliciously close to the 29,029-foot summit. Each time, foul weather impelled him all the way down to advanced base camp at 21,000 feet. Up, down. Up, down. Another day at the office. That he left without the ultimate success perturbed him only slightly.

"Getting to the top is optional; getting down is mandatory," he says with characteristic understatement.

Lacking bravado, Viesturs remained virtually unnoticed outside the close confines of the climbing world until a 1996 Everest expedition during which he inadvertently became entwined in the greatest tragedy in the history of the world's highest mountain. When it also evolved into the most highly publicized event in the annals of climbing, Viesturs' time in the shadows was finished.

Eight climbers-among them Scott Fischer and Rob Hall, who were among Viesturs' closest companions-died near the summit in a sudden, brutal storm. Viesturs had come on a separate mission, under Breashears' direction, to make an IMAX film of the great mountain. Two weeks after the calamity, Viesturs again climbed Everest without oxygen at a breakneck pace, pausing on the way down to commune with the spirits of his late friends.

Although he had shown earlier brilliance in a daring 1992 rescue and escape on K2 and demonstrated stunning strength in other ascents, it was Viesturs' IMAX performance as a flashback from that 1996 Everest media glare that made him a star. "I sometimes say that it took me 16 years to become an overnight success," he joked.

Married, with a two-year-old son, Viesturs ranks as the consummate climbing professional, blending his abiding passion for high places with a keen business acumen. Parlaying endorsement contracts with lucrative speaking fees, he commands an income stretching deep into six figures. Little wonder he places so much emphasis on coming back alive.

In a broad-ranging interview with SNOWORLD, this son of World War II refugees-a Latvian design engineer and a German beautician-divulged a candid insight into the man whose unique philosophy and physiology places him at the top of the climbing world.

SNOWORLD: How did someone raised hundreds of miles from mountains become so infatuated with climbing them?

VIESTURS: Growing up, I read Maurice Herzog's book, Anna-purna, which to me expressed the ultimate of the human spirit. It's a great story: How they couldn't even find the mountain at first, how they struggled and then, at the last moment, made it to the top. It inspired me to want to do something like that.

SNOWORLD: How did you make that happen?

VIESTURS: I came to college in Washington, first to Washington State and then to veterinary school at the University of Washington, so I could start climbing.

SNOWORLD: You wanted to climb Mt. Rainier?

VIESTURS: That was my first Everest. I worked my way up on smaller peaks. I wanted to do my first climb on Rainier in the winter, when it has many of the same elements as a Himalayan mountain: snow, ice, foul weather coupled with a long vertical ascent. I could climb forever right here in the Cascades. There's so much to do, so much fun climbing here.

SNOWORLD: But you obviously didn't choose to stop there.

VIESTURS: I was given an opportunity to climb Mt. McKinley in1983 as part of the Seven Summit project with Dick Bass and the late Frank Wells where they climbed the highest points on every continent. I went to McKinley again in 1985 and then, in 1987, I got my first chance on Everest.

SNOWORLD: You mean you attempted Everest on your first trip to the Himalayas, your first climb above 20,000 feet?

VIESTURS: Yes. It was an unusual situation. Another Rainier guide was hired by three people from Arkansas to organize and lead a climb on the North Face, to lay a path they could follow as high as they could go. He put together a group of experienced climbers to establish the camps with the understanding we could climb the mountain, too. We got within 300 feet of the top. We figured we could get up, but not back down, so we walked away from it.

SNOWORLD: This has become something of a mantra in your survival philosophy. Is this your form of risk management?

VIESTURS: I view every climb as a round trip. It doesn't count if you don't come back. Many climbers get into trouble because they don't allow themselves enough time to get down. They only focus on the top. When they get close, the temptation is to go for it. It's important to have strict guidelines and stick to them.

SNOWORLD: You seem to have great patience about this. Isn't it difficult to just walk away when you've invested so much time, energy and money in a climb?

VIESTURS: I figure I can always try again tomorrow or next week or even next year. The one thing I have is the strength and patience to wait out the weather. I've walked away from Everest twice just 300 feet from the top.

SNOWORLD: Few climbers have your strength, this luxury to just keep waiting and trying. Many people-including David Brea-shears, who has made 10 expeditions to Everest-say you're the strongest climber in the world. How do you react to that?

VIESTURS: I wouldn't claim I'm the strongest. I would say I'm one of the best high-altitude climbers and that I function well at high altitude. I train hard for it. Certainly there are more talented technical climbers. Let's say I'm a high-altitude specialist.

SNOWORLD: But Breashears, who's seen it all, says you do things that no one else can.

VIESTURS: Well, maybe I do function a little better, but I do hate the notion of calling myself the best. I hate for it to become a competitive thing, which, in a sense, it already is.

SNOWORLD: You take things another step farther by climbing without bottled oxygen. What's your rationale for that?

VIESTURS: My rule is that when I go to a mountain the first time, I climb without oxygen. I'll use oxygen if I'm guiding purely for the safety of my clients. If something happens, I can't be faulted for not having oxygen. I realize why I should have it, but I'd rather be without it. I love not having all the bottles and mask and respirators. I exult that I have all this freedom.

SNOWORLD: Even if it means not making it to the top?

VIESTURS: I'll take the mountain for what it is, whether I make it to the top or not. I won't use supplemental oxygen to bring the mountain down to my level. That's a rule I will not break. If I couldn't have climbed Everest without oxygen, I never would have climbed it.

SNOWORLD: So how do you explain yourself physiologically?

VIESTURS: The doctors can tell you that I have larger than normal lungs. I have a high VO2max, which measures oxygen intake capacity. I also have a high anaerobic threshold, which is the point at which the rate of breathing increases rapidly in relation to the exercise rate. Basically what this means is that when other people falter at high altitude, I'm still cruising along.

SNOWORLD: You've had actual measurements taken?

VIESTURS: Yes, I've had electrodes hooked up to me and a tube inserted into my mouth while running on a treadmill at the University of Washington. They recorded all this on a computer printout. They say I'm more like a pronghorn antelope. I can go and go and go. I can suck in more oxygen and then use it to a greater degree than other people.

SNOWORLD: Do you know the exact comparison?

VIESTURS: Normal lung volume is five liters; mine is seven. The average VO2max is more like 40; mine is 65. The other unique thing they discovered was my anaerobic threshold, which is a percentage of VO2max. Most people go into an anaerobic state at 50 percent of VO2max. For me, it's 89 percent.

SNOWORLD: Where does this ability come from?

VIESTURS: They say it's genetic, something I was born with, just a fluke of genetics. You can enhance this slightly through training, but, basically, you either have it or you don't.

SNOWORLD: So you're saying you're something of a freak?

VIESTURS: Yeah. I'm a freak of nature. Luckily, I had what it takes to be a good climber. I fell into just the right sport.

SNOWORLD: Does this mean we can do laboratory tests to determine who'll make a great high-altitude climber?

VIESTURS: There's more to it than that. There's also a mental side to consider. You have to be able to push yourself through extreme difficulty and want to endure pain to get to the top of a mountain. Reinhold Messner wasn't the strongest climber, but he had tremendous mental power. A certain amount of luck is involved, being at the right place. But mostly, it's determination. Let's just say I'm very stubborn.

SNOWORLD: Where does that come from?

VIESTURS: I got that from my parents. They both were refugees during World War II. My father had to flee Latvia when the Russians came. My parents were starving in camps. That caused me to believe I never could complain about anything, or think that something was too hard. Even though I've been through difficult things, my folks have endured things much worse.

SNOWORLD: Do you have this stoic attitude about everything?

VIESTURS: My wife, Paula, chides me about never complaining about anything. She says I keep everything inside. But I hate complaining. The things we complain about usually are minor-stuff that really doesn't matter much.

SNOWORLD: You don't look like a big, powerful person. What sort of training do you do?

VIESTURS: Well, I'm 5-10 and 165 pounds and the key is endurance rather than raw strength. Typically, I run seven miles, six days a week. I climb when I can, ski when I can. I lift weights a few days a week, but only to keep toned so I'll have the strength to carry packs or put up tents in high winds. My goal is to maintain consistent aerobic endurance training all year, not just the two months before a climb.

SNOWORLD: You mentioned that you're not a great technical climber.

VIESTURS: I don't consider myself a talented rock climber. I climb 5.9 to 5.10. But I'm adequate to do what I need to do. When I'm at 27,000 feet with mittens, crampons and an ice axe, it's a different ball game, a whole different set of maneuvers. Rock climbing isn't a passion for me. I love the terrain, the snow and ice and the altitude-the whole journey and the process. These are two different sports. One is athletic, the other endurance.

SNOWORLD: But you've been criticized for that lack of technical, athletic ability. Is this a reflection of the jealousy in the climbing fraternity?

VIESTURS: Yes, but I could care less. I do this because I love what I do. I'm not trying to fit some bill. I'm doing what I want to do the way I do it. This is for me. If people want to criticize me, have at it. It doesn't bother me in the least.

SNOWORLD: And you've also taken heat because you're steady and not spectacular. But if you were flamboyant, someone probably would criticize you for that as well.

VIESTURS: But, again, that's fine. Because I'm not trying to impress anyone. I do it to have fun and that's it. Some guys out there are pushing the limits of the possible, doing things where the risks are huge. Sometimes they get away with it, sometimes they don't. That's where the competitive part comes in. I know what I'm doing. Even when I think I can control the situation, there's still enough problems. I don't need any more of that.

SNOWORLD: Is that where the Steady Eddie nickname comes from?

VIESTURS: I suppose so. I don't like the lure of danger. I've never been excited by danger. I'm excited about the challenges mountains offer and how I can work and think my way to the top and back down. I like living as much as anyone. Climbing a mountain isn't worth my little finger, let alone my life.

SNOWORLD: You call yourself an altitude junkie. What do you mean by that?

VIESTURS: I'm addicted to the conditions of high altitude, what it's like and how I perform. The challenges are so great. The amount of effort it takes to get to the summit makes it so rewarding. It's knowing that all the struggle will result in the feeling of being on top of one of these great peaks. That's what intrigues me.

SNOWORLD: You speak of your precautions and control. Has there been a time when you felt a real sense of desperation, when you thought you weren't going to make it?

VIESTURS: The only time was on K2 in 1992, but there were two very distinct feelings on that climb. One was when I made the self-arrest with Scott Fischer on the other end of the rope. That was pure instinct. I remember rolling with the snow, feeling very calm. It was dark, almost silent. I had this tunnel vision in which my total focus simply was to stop. But it was a totally different feeling coming off the summit in the deep snow. That was a truly desperate, hopeless feeling.

SNOWORLD: Your trouble began when you attempted to rescue someone.

VIESTURS: Yes, Scott and I were waiting out this very bad storm at Camp 3 when we learned that Chantal Mauduit, a famous French woman climber had collapsed at Camp 4 and her partner couldn't get her down. Conditions were horrible: whiteout and heavy snow.

SNOWORLD: Even after an avalanche swept both of you away and you managed to self-arrest, you continued up to complete the rescue.

VIESTURS: Yes, I believe that when someone needs help, I must try to assist them. I call it the Karma National Bank. I believe in making deposits so something will be in there if I need to make a withdrawal some day. My abbreviated definition of Karma is that what goes around comes around. If you treat others well, it'll all come back to you.

SNOWORLD: But even after you got them down, you went back to climb K2 even though the weather was bad. Didn't that violate your own rule about caution?

VIESTURS: That's the only time I let that happen. It had been snowing hard all day and I knew the avalanche conditions were very bad, that any moment it was going to slide. Hour after hour, I lived with the thought that we'd never get down. My stomach was knotted up so tight I barely could swallow. I've never had that feeling again. I hope I learned my lesson.

SNOWORLD: Do you think the odds ultimately get stacked against you, that each time you go up, you're tempting fate?

VIESTURS: I disagree with that. I think I learn something each trip. I become more experienced, smarter, so the next one will be safer. Each one becomes a training exercise for the next one.

SNOWORLD: What scares you most?

VIESTURS: The constant risk of avalanche, something I have no control over, something I never see coming. These big mountains slide almost constantly and I try to assess conditions constantly and reduce the risk as much as possible.

SNOWORLD: On K2 and in other situations, you've been credited with finding your way down in whiteout conditions in which other experienced climbers became lost.

VIESTURS: I think that comes from my training as a guide, when I had the ultimate responsibility of getting my clients down. I always turn around on my way up to memorize what it looks like coming down. With its weather and ice, Rainier was a perfect place to learn and train for the Himalayas. You get to Everest and feel overwhelmed. But it's still snow and ice and rocks. It's a mountain with the same technical demands as any other.

SNOWORLD: But there's so much mystique about climbing the world's highest mountain, more so after the 1996 disasters.

VIESTURS: Yes, it's getting out of hand. I went back in 1997 with Breashears and another American, Pete Athans, to climb Everest again for a Nova film. We found so many people up there in Camp 4 waiting to try the top, I became apprehensive. It occurred to me I'd had enough of that, that it was time to move on to other things.

SNOWORLD: Will you ever try it again?

VIESTURS: At that point, Pete and I both had climbed it five times, more than anyone else. He climbed it again in 1999. Actually, certain Sherpas have climbed it eight or nine times. Pete and I joked about forming a group called Everest Anonymous. We could establish a help line to talk ourselves out of it if anyone were tempted to do it again.

SNOWORLD: What would it take to make you want to go back to Everest?

VIESTURS: It would have to be something truly unique and challenging, like the IMAX film. It would have to be comparable to that.

SNOWORLD: What about an opportunity to solo?

VIESTURS: Perhaps. I guess my most frustrating experience in climbing was my solo attempts in the autumn of 1993, when the weather never let me test my limits. Several times I've climbed alone from high camp to the top and I can't imagine having any problem with the lower part. To me, the true definition of solo is having no one else in sight, with no fixed rope or anyone having broken a trail.

SNOWORLD: That's difficult to find with so many other climbing parties these days.

VIESTURS: When Messner did it in 1980, he was completely alone. Now some people claim solo ascents when other climbers are around. But I think you lose the psychological aspects of being totally self-reliant.

SNOWORLD: Was Messner something of an inspiration to you?

VIESTURS: He was truly remarkable. We're only now duplicating the things he did 20 years ago.

SNOWORLD: Did the incidents on Everest in 1996 change your feelings?

VIESTURS: That had a huge impact on me because I knew Scott Fischer and Rob Hall so well. Here's two of my greatest friends dead on the mountain.

SNOWORLD: But you went back up two weeks later to reach the summit.

VIESTURS: I wanted to complete the IMAX project and give something of a positive note to this tragic season. Otherwise, we'd leave this pall of death, this gloom, hanging over the mountain.

SNOWORLD: But wasn't it tough being the first to find the bodies of your friends?

VIESTURS: I tried to prepare for it. I first saw Scott at 2 a.m. in the light of my headlamp. Thankfully, snow was partly covering him. I didn't want to see either's face. I wanted to remember them for what they were. I saw them lying there and it was unbelievable that these two strong, smart climbers whom I'd seen just two weeks earlier could be dead. I felt emotions I never had before, new things going on in my head.

SNOWORLD: You then climbed Everest at an unbelievable pace. Even though you were breaking trail without oxygen, you far outstripped the other climbers, even the Sherpas.

VIESTURS: I was like a horse at a race track, ready to burst out of the gate. A big part of it was what Paula said. She was down in base camp and radioed me to go for it, to climb like I'd never climbed before. It really choked me up. I could have climbed through a brick wall.

SNOWORLD: Was that your strongest moment as a climber?

VIESTURS: I think my best was in 1995. Everything just seemed to come together, when we developed a strategy of climbing two neighboring mountains in a tight time frame, taking advantage of staying acclimatized.

SNOWORLD: How did that work out?

VIESTURS: In the spring, Rob Hall and I got to the South Summit of Everest, 300 feet from the top, but stopped because of avalanche danger. Then, a week later, we climbed Makalu in four days. In the summer, a group went to Pakistan and we did something similar on the two Gasherbrums.

SNOWORLD: That's when you did your famous speed climbs.

VIESTURS: I did Gasherbrum II in four days and then Gasherbrum I in 30 hours. As I said, everything clicked.

SNOWORLD: You made quick work of Manaslu and Dhaulagiri last spring. Did you have any difficulties?

VIESTURS: Just about everything that could go right did. Good snow, no major storms, good health. It's what I keep telling people about how these climbs can be done. It's physically demanding and very challenging, but it doesn't have to be life or death.

SNOWORLD: Now that you've climbed all but Annapurna and Nanga Parbat, what's your strategy? Will you save Annapurna for last as a symbol of Herzog's book, your initial inspiration.

VIESTURS: Certainly that would complete a cycle for me, but I don't think that's the way it'll work out. To save the hassle of moving everything, Veikka Gustafsson, my current climbing partner, and I left our gear in Nepal, so we'll probably try Annapurna in the spring of 2000. Because of the political situation in Pakistan, we'll let that cool down and attempt Nanga Parbat in 2001.

SNOWORLD: What will you do after you've finished the 14? Do you anticipate a letdown?

VIESTURS: That's hard to say. But I know my passion is to climb these high peaks. I love to see what it's like up there. There's lots of others in the world equally challenging. I also could climb forever right here in the Cascades.

SNOWORLD: It must be difficult for Paula when you're up there, particularly when people you both know so well have died.

VIESTURS: Even at the start, she knew what I did. She knows this is what makes me what I am. I'm a climber. That's who I am. To have me not do that would make me a different person.

SNOWORLD: But didn't you have to reach some understanding?

VIESTURS: I've always been as safe and conservative as I can be. My goal always is to keep myself alive. Whether I have a wife and baby doesn't change that. It's really hard for Paula. She misses me. She knows this isn't risk free. The thing that bothers me most is being away from them. That really pulls on me. I think of them every day I'm gone.

SNOWORLD: But isn't there a counterbalance, large blocks of time when you're home?

VIESTURS: That's the most rewarding part. We run our own business, make our own schedules, our own contracts. I don't deal with agents. When I go out seeking sponsors, I meet them myself. I believe I can present myself in a way no one else can. It's not as if sponsors are knocking the door down, but I have been able to create this thing out of climbing that keeps me very busy.

SNOWORLD: Isn't it hard keeping up with all the commercial stuff?

VIESTURS: There's a credibility factor here of giving value for what I get, of doing my part. I want people to look back and say that Ed was a good person who did what he said he would.

SNOWORLD: Even when the phone rings all the time for engagements and interviews?

VIESTURS: I created this. Nobody forced me. I get to provide for my family. My passion has become my profession. It's great. Absolutely wonderful.