From the bustling city of Mumbai to the towering peaks of the Himalayas, Kuntal Joisher, Mountaineer & Brand Ambassador, Veganuary India has charted an inspiring path from software engineering to scaling the world’s highest summits. A chance encounter with snow in Narkanda during a 2009 winter trip sparked a passion for mountaineering, leading to remarkable feats, including summiting Mount Everest not once, but twice. Embracing a plant-based lifestyle and a deep commitment to sustainability, Kuntal Joisher exemplifies how dreams, discipline, and ethics can align to create extraordinary achievements.
- What inspired you to embrace the life of a passionate traveller, mountaineer, and adventurer?
Life has a funny way of completely changing course when you least expect it. Back in 2009, I was your typical Mumbai software engineer – the guy next door spending his days writing code, living what most would call a “successful” life. Mountaineering? That wasn’t even in my wildest dreams. My idea of adventure was debugging complex software systems, and I was perfectly content with that.
Then came that winter trip to Narkanda with my wife Dipti in February 2009. We weren’t looking for any life-changing experiences – honestly, we just wanted to see snow. After six days in Shimla with no luck, someone suggested driving 80 kilometers north to this quiet Himalayan town called Narkanda. The drive itself along the old Hindustan-Tibet highway was like something out of a painting, but what happened next completely rewrote my life’s script.
At first, we were like kids in a candy store – making snow angels, throwing snowballs, just pure childlike joy. But something drew us deeper into this winter wonderland. We decided to attempt the hike to Hatu peak. For the next 3-4 hours, we trudged through fresh snow, each step taking more effort than the last. The silence of the snow-covered forest was broken only by our labored breathing and the crunch of snow under our boots.
When we finally reached the top of Hatu peak, something extraordinary happened. Standing there, surrounded by the vast expanse of the snow-covered Himalaya, every single thing fell silent. The constant chatter in my head about deadlines and future plans just… stopped. I could hear my own breath, something we do thousands of times a day but never really notice. Then, my heartbeat – each thump telling me I was truly alive. It sounds almost poetic now or cliched, but in that moment, it was the realest thing I’d ever felt.
That state of mind – that pure, unadulterated joy, peace and presence – it became my pursuit for the next 15 years. Every climb, every expedition since then has been, in some way, an attempt to reconnect with that feeling I first experienced on Hatu peak.
A year and half later (in Oct 2010), this newfound connection with the mountains led me to sign up for an Everest Base Camp trek. One evening at Pumori base camp, around 18,000 feet up, a Sherpa guide started shouting my name outside our dining tent. Usually, that’s not a good sign at altitude, so I rushed out. There, painted against the darkening sky, was Everest, burning golden in the last light of sunset while every other peak had faded into evening shadows. It was like someone had set the snow on fire. Standing there, at that precise moment, looking at that precise view – my dream was born. I promised myself that one day, I would stand on that summit, mountain willing of course.
Back then, if someone would have told me I’d leave my comfortable software job to become a mountain climber, I would have asked them what they were smoking. But there I was, completely transformed by a snow-covered peak and a golden sunset. Sometimes the biggest adventures in life start with the smallest steps – in my case, quite literally, steps in the snow.
- Among your extreme expeditions, which destination holds the most unforgettable memories, and what made it special?
My second ascent of Everest in 2019 from the North side stands out as a journey that tested every fiber of my being. Unlike the South Col route, the North side of Everest is a different beast altogether – more exposed, significantly colder, and far more demanding technically. But this wasn’t just another climb for me; it was a chance to right what I considered a personal failure from my first summit.
You see, in 2016, I reached the top of Everest wearing a down suit. As a vegan, this weighed heavily on my conscience. The guilt of wearing dead birds on my body to achieve my dream didn’t sit well with me. Success felt hollow when it came at the cost of my deepest values.
The night of our summit push in May 2019 is forever etched in my memory. At 27,200 feet, stationed at Camp 3 – the highest camp on Earth – we began our climb around 9:30 pm. It was a pitch dark night, and the cold bit through our layers despite my innovative vegan suit from Save the Duck. As Mingma Tenzi Sherpa and I made our way up in the pitch darkness, our headlamps illuminated an otherworldly landscape of rock and ice.
That night held moments of profound sobriety. We passed the bodies of many climbers from previous years, perfectly preserved in the freezing temperatures. Each was a stark reminder that on Everest, the line between success and tragedy is razor-thin. These moments forced me to confront my own mortality while questioning every step forward.
But the dawn brought a different energy. As the first rays of sunlight painted the Tibetan plateau below, I took the final steps to the summit at 5:30 am. This time, wearing my 100% vegan gear, I wasn’t just standing on top of the world – I was standing there on my own terms. Unfurling the vegan flag on the summit wasn’t just a personal victory; it was a statement that you can achieve anything without compromising your ethics.
The most poignant moment, though, came during our descent. As we carefully made our way down, a thought hit me: the mountain didn’t care what I was wearing or what I ate. Everest stands indifferent to our human achievements and ideologies. We’re all just temporary guests on its slopes, and the true achievement isn’t in reaching the summit but in how we choose to get there. And of course in making it back down in one piece – safe and sound. As they say – getting to the top is optional, but getting back down is mandatory!
- How has your plant-based lifestyle impacted your physical performance and well-being during high-altitude expeditions?
When I first announced my intention to climb Everest as a vegan, there was a lot of pushback from the mountaineering community. The prevailing belief was that you needed animal foods and animal based clothing to survive at extreme altitudes. But after 14+ years of climbing some of the world’s highest peaks on a plant-based diet, I’ve not only proven it’s possible – I’ve discovered it’s actually advantageous.
The first thing I noticed was my recovery time. Even after the most grueling training sessions – like 20-hour steep hikes in the local mountains – my body bounces back remarkably fast. This became crucial during expedition seasons, where every day of good weather counts, and you need to be ready to push when the mountain gives you a window.
One of the most revealing insights from my years of high-altitude climbing emerged through observation. At extreme altitudes, many climbers face a dreaded expedition-ender: severe stomach infections. I’ve witnessed countless strong climbers, their summit dreams shattered, being evacuated due to food poisoning. Almost invariably, these issues stem from contaminated or poorly preserved animal products – meat gone bad in the unforgiving mountain conditions, or dairy products that didn’t survive the journey to higher camps.
As a vegan, I’ve discovered an unexpected advantage. In over 35+ serious Himalayan expeditions, including two Everest summits, I’ve never experienced a single stomach infection. It’s not just luck – it’s logical when you think about it. Plant-based foods are inherently more stable and less prone to dangerous bacterial growth. When you’re at 21,000 feet, where your body is already struggling to function, the last thing you need is to gamble with questionable meat or dairy.
This isn’t just my experience. I’ve actually recommended temporary plant-based diets to fellow climbers who’ve caught stomach bugs during expeditions, and it’s helped many of them recover and continue their climbs. At extreme altitudes, where every factor can make the difference between success and failure, this simple dietary choice has proven to be a significant advantage.
But perhaps the biggest impact isn’t physical at all – it’s psychological. There’s an incredible mental edge that comes from knowing your achievements don’t come at the cost of animal suffering. When you’re battling -50°C temperatures and hurricane-force winds, this alignment of actions with ethics becomes a source of strength. It’s like having an extra reserve of willpower, knowing you’re proving that you can reach the highest points on Earth while staying true to your deepest values.
This journey has shown me that not only can you survive on a vegan diet in extreme conditions – you can thrive. Every summit, every successful expedition adds to the growing evidence that plant-based athletes can perform at the highest levels in the most demanding conditions on Earth. We’re not just matching conventional performance standards; in many ways, we’re setting new ones.
Whether climbing Everest or not, I recommend everyone to give eating vegan a try. The 31-day Veganuary course is a great place to start, which helps you with a lot of free resources like meal plans, nutrition advice, easy recipes etc.
- What mental and physical preparations are essential for tackling the challenges of mountaineering?
People often think climbing big mountains is all about physical strength and technical skills. But after years of expeditions, I’ve learned that the true essence of mountaineering lies in something far more complex – the delicate balance between physical preparation, mental fortitude, and emotional sacrifice.
Let me break this down through my own journey. When I first dreamed of climbing Everest, I threw myself into physical training with an almost obsessive intensity. Six days a week, I would push my body to its limits. Picture this: climbing 300 floors up and down in the scorching Mumbai heat, legs burning, sweat pouring, but knowing that every step was preparation for the mountain. Some days meant running 20km, other days involved 18-hour endurance hikes in the Sahyadri mountains. During these sessions, I’d often reach points where my body screamed to stop, but something deeper kept pushing me forward.
But here’s what I didn’t understand initially – physical training, while crucial, is just the foundation. The real preparation happens in your mind. I learned this lesson the hard way during my early expeditions. I remember once turning back from a summit attempt because I convinced myself a slope looked avalanche-prone. The truth? I was just homesick, missing my family, and my mind created the perfect excuse to go home. The rest of my team summited that day. That regret still stings, but it taught me an invaluable lesson about mental preparation.
That’s when I started training my mind as ruthlessly as my body. I began deliberately putting myself in uncomfortable situations – like doing long treks without food or water. Not because I enjoyed suffering, but because I needed to understand how my mind would respond when pushed to its limits. Because at 8000 meters, in what we call the death zone, your mind is your most important survival tool.
One of the hardest aspects of preparation – one that nobody talks about – is the emotional cost. To climb at high altitudes, you need to develop a kind of emotional detachment that sometimes feels almost inhuman. You miss family events, you’re absent during difficult times, you can’t be there when loved ones need you. The mountain doesn’t care about your schedule or your family’s needs. During my multiple Everest attempts, I had to learn to switch off emotionally. Even while at home between expeditions, I maintained this emotional distance. Zero personal life. ZERO. This came at a heavy cost – one that’s never visible in those triumphant summit photos.
The training also involves learning to make peace with fear. Not eliminating it – that would be dangerous – but developing a relationship with it. When you’re clipping into your harness at 28,000 feet, with wind howling around you and temperatures at -50°C, fear is your companion. The key is learning to acknowledge it without letting it paralyze you.
Then there’s the technical preparation. Every knot, every piece of gear, every safety protocol needs to become second nature. Because at extreme altitudes, where your brain is operating on minimal oxygen, you can’t afford to think about these things – they need to be automatic. I spent countless hours practicing these skills in safer environments, failing, learning, improving.
But perhaps the most crucial preparation is developing respect for the mountain. This comes from understanding that summiting is optional, but coming down is mandatory. The mountain will always be there, but you need to be alive to climb it another day. This respect isn’t something you can train for – it’s something you learn through experience, often through close calls and witnessing the mountain’s raw power.
The reality is, preparing for big mountains is about becoming comfortable with being uncomfortable. It’s about pushing your limits while knowing when to pull back. It’s about building physical strength while maintaining mental flexibility. But most importantly, it’s about understanding that the greatest challenges often aren’t the technical aspects of climbing – they’re the personal transformations required to become someone capable of such climbs.
- Can you share insights into your next big adventure and the goals driving your mountaineering journey forward?
There’s a dream that keeps me awake at night – leading the first all-vegan team to the summit of Everest. This isn’t just about planting another flag on the top; it’s about creating a space for vegan athletes to showcase what’s possible on a plant-based diet. Imagine the message it would send to see an entire team summit Everest while proving that you don’t need to harm any animals to achieve extraordinary things.
The mountains have also opened my eyes to the urgent reality of climate change. When you climb the same peaks over multiple years, you witness the glaciers retreating, the snow lines changing. These aren’t statistics in a report – they’re visible changes I can point to from one expedition to the next. It’s becoming increasingly clear that my role isn’t just to climb these mountains, but to be their voice, to tell their story of change.
Every expedition now serves a dual purpose – pushing personal limits while advocating for the causes I believe in. Whether it’s through my nutrition coaching, expedition leading, or speaking engagements, each climb becomes a platform to inspire others to chase their dreams while making conscious, compassionate choices.
The mountains have taught me that sometimes the most important summits aren’t physical peaks at all – they’re the moments when we choose to stand up for what we believe in, even when the path ahead seems impossibly steep.
Author: Jaun Shahi
Journalist, Sub-Editor, Travellers’ World Jaun is a soft-spoken and gentle soul who thrives as a Journalist with his exceptional observation skills and an eye for intricate details. He is a true multitasker who efficiently handles various tasks and always brings a professional approach to everything he does. His genuine team spirit makes him an integral part of the TW family, as he consistently collaborates and supports his colleagues.
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