Basic Rock Climb - Return to THE Yellowjacket Tower

Trip Report

"Sliding down the granite face in the hidden gully, dust and dirt flying everywhere, skin scraping against the coarse rock, I had exactly enough time to think 'This is why I swore I'd never come back to Yellowjacket.' Yet here I was, fifteen feet into an unplanned descent, with three trusting climbers watching from below. But let me rewind and explain how I found myself in this particular predicament.

Those who followed my trip report might remember my rather dreadful wonderful account of Yellowjacket from July 2023, where I emphatically declared my retirement from this particular climb. The climbing community has a funny way of making you eat your words. When two of my basic graduates from last year expressed interest in tackling this notorious tower, something in me sparked. Maybe it was the mentor in me, or maybe I needed my own redemption story, or just confirmation that it cant be as bad as I thought it was can it? But I found myself saying "I'll take you up Yellowjacket" before I could stop myself. Plus a 2025 basic student (Paul) signed up for the adventure as he needed a basic rock climb to graduate and there was no way I could say no.

Dawn broke over Leavenworth with an otherworldly glow, the sun filtered through a thick haze from the Wildcat fire raging east of Rainier. We met at the 76 station inside of town, our excitement palpable despite the early hour. The forecast promised a scorcher - 98°F with minimal wind and widespread haze due to the Wildcat fire East of Mt Rainier- exactly the kind of day that makes Yellowjacket's notorious sandy natures garbage chute gully even more 'interesting.' As we geared up at the Icicle Road trailhead, we caught glimpses of anticipation and perhaps a hint of nervousness in my team's eyes. They'd all heard the stories, seen the battle scars, but nothing truly prepares you for your first dance with this Fred Beckey classic of classics.

The approach hike became an unintentional comedy routine. Every time I casually mentioned that this was "the easy part," I received increasingly skeptical looks from my climbers. Their skepticism was well-founded - the 'easy' approach is a quad-burning scramble that serves as a mere appetizer for what's to come. We reached the base of the gully just as the morning sun began to turn the granite into a natural convection oven with sand sprinkles!

Helmets on, we began our ascent through what is affectionately call 'the garbage chute.' The gully's reputation for loose rock means every handhold must be tested, every footstep calculated. As a party of four, we moved like a well-orchestrated team, calling out loose rocks and spotting each other through the trickier sections. The chockstone, a notorious crux of the approach, loomed above us. In a moment of perhaps excessive confidence, given our experience, comfort and movement on the rock so far I opted not to set up a handline and instead climb it like any pitch one of any grade 5 climbing route, then belay my partners up after me.

After a much-needed 30-minute break to flake ropes and catch our breath (and perhaps contemplate the meaning of life as it pertains to natures garbage chute), I took the sharp end. The first few pieces went in smoothly, building my confidence. Too much confidence, as it turned out. The hidden gully marked our first real crux of crux's. At the hidden gully's chockstone, I made the classic leader mistake - choosing efficiency over safety, I didn't place protection for what looked like a straightforward move, like I had done in my two previous trips. In my mind I was like "I totally got this!"

Physics, gravity, and the mountain gods have a way of humbling us exactly when we need it. One moment I was making an easy move right, the next my left foot skated off as if I'd stepped on ice. Time slowed as I felt myself losing contact with the rock. The sliding fall lasted maybe two seconds, but it was enough time to catalog that over confidence that led to that moment, and to leave several layers of skin along my arms on Leavenworth granite.

Picking myself up, equal parts embarrassed and angry, I could almost hear Yellowjacket Tower's mocking laughter Mu-hahahahaha <evil type laugh>. This time, I placed bomber protection before attempting the move again. The rest of the pitch went smoothly, though my arms stung with each movement and drip of sweat, a sharp reminder of my earlier hubris.

The actual climbing on Yellowjacket - when you finally reach it - is arguably the best part of the whole adventure. We found some mysterious fixed gear with a new-looking runner about three moves up (a story for another climber to tell, no doubt). The infamous vertical tree, which has probably seen more climber prayers than a church pew, still stands strong despite years of climbers questioning its longevity. Each of my followers arrived at the belay with wide grins, the kind that only come from pushing through something challenging and emerging victorious.

Note: The green and blue tubing from the picture of the anchor in my 2023 trip report is still there. I have no idea how long its been there (at least two years) and I hope that some future party replaces the tubing with quicklinks and chains. It does look in decent condition although armed with the age of the material might want to consider replacing it.

However, Yellowjacket had one more surprise for us. The traditional tri-cam placement near the top - a crucial piece of protection mentioned in every guide and trip report - proved problematic. The hole, worn smooth by countless placements, had grown too large for even a brown tri-cam. After some creative engineering and probably too much time contemplating the meaning of 'bomber placement,' we managed to make it work, though I'm convinced future parties will need to find an alternative solution.

Note in All seriousness:  The hole that people have traditionally protected with a tri-cam is too big to accept a brown tri-cam (the biggest in the standard set of four). The hole is noticeably bigger and completely smooth on the inside. I tried other sizes to see if anything would catch on the inside and nothing could. Finally I was able to jam the brown tri-cam sideways, pretty sure there's no way it was going to hold my weight if I fell. Alternatives could be getting a bigger tri-cam (you'd have to buy it separately from the normal set.) You could set a couple of microcams at the feet of the ledge, although that wont protect the actual movements above it and you're likely to deck in a couple of areas. It would ensure you wouldn't fall off the tower completely. We maybe at a point to find an alternative protection method for this final section of the climb.

The descent proved to be its own adventure, a five-act play of rappels requiring careful rope management and constant communication. Each rappel station told its own story of previous climbers' experiences - some anchors showing signs of age, others recently replaced by conscientious parties. We did our part for the community, replacing old cord at two stations with fresh 7mm cord.

Improvements Made:
1. Added Blue 7mm cord for the first rappel station (birthday of the cord 2024).
2. Added Blue 7mm cord at the 4th rappel station,
3. Removed half inch black runner that animals got to it at the 4th rappel station. This cord was still wrapped around the tree like nothing was wrong. However upon closer inspection of where the water knot was supposed to be we found it to be untied. Remember folks always inspect a knot to ensure its safe for everyone.

As we finally touched down on solid ground, the sun beginning its descent behind the Stuart Range, I looked back up at Yellowjacket Tower. Like all great climbing objectives, it demands respect, punishes complacency, and rewards preparation. The walk out was filled with that unique mix of exhaustion and exhilaration that marks a day well spent in the mountains.

Over frosty beverages in Leavenworth that evening, we joined the long tradition of climbers debating how to categorize the day's 'fun.' Type II? Type III? The consensus I land at firmly in the Type III category - the kind of fun that's only fun in retrospect, after the scrapes have healed and the stories have been properly embellished. Yet somehow, as we sat there with our well-earned victory beverages, I found myself thinking about beta for next time. Because there's always a next time, isn't there? Overall it was a great day to graduate a climber out of basic!

As David Johnson wisely noted, 'Yellowjacket Tower is more about managing the ascent and descent of the loose sandy gully than it is about technical climbing.' It's a complex puzzle of risk management, team dynamics, and technical skills, all wrapped up in a package that tests your physical and mental fortitude. For those considering this climb, remember: the technical climbing is the easy part. It's everything else that makes Yellowjacket Tower a true adventure. And, words alone are not enough to describe it and Yellowjacket is something that you have experience in person,,,, once.

Video of the climb courtesy of Climber Delsin: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m2LDfzBrxKc&authuser=0

Also huge congratulations to Climber Paul for getting his rock climb in to graduate basic!!!!!!! YOUR ONE OF US NOW!!

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