When an Ordinary Day of Climbing Became a Fight for Life
A yellowjacket swarm, an unexpected medical emergency, and the lessons two climbers carry with them a year later.
Ross and Jeni had met up to climb together, something they had done many times before. Jeni had just successfully completed a route she had been working on, and Ross moved on to another climb nearby.
Nothing about the day suggested that within minutes they would both be running for their lives—or that Ross would eventually wonder whether he was going to survive.
Ross was about 30 feet off the ground, working through a section of the climb while Jeni belayed below.
Then he heard Jeni scream. Ross knew immediately: she had been stung.
Then he heard another scream.
And another.
And another.
Jeni had unknowingly gotten too close to the entrance of a yellowjacket nest hidden in the ground near the base of the climb. Suddenly, she was surrounded.
“I don’t even remember where the pain started,” Jeni recalled. “It was just suddenly [all over] my entire body.”
Yellowjackets were crawling into her clothing, attacking her face and trying to get into her mouth. Each sting triggered an involuntary physical reaction.
But Jeni was still holding Ross’s life in her hands.
The two were connected by a climbing rope. Ross was suspended above her while Jeni controlled his descent with her belay device. As she was being repeatedly stung, Jeni remembers thinking about the brake strand of the rope and whether she would physically be able to maintain control.
Her body was trying to escape the pain. Her mind was trying to keep Ross from falling.
Getting Down Was Only the Beginning
Jeni managed to lower Ross toward the ground while trying to move herself away from the nest.
Then Ross entered the swarm too.
He remembers seeing what looked like a “shimmering mirage” in the air. As he descended, the yellowjackets began attacking him. By the time he reached the ground, both climbers were being repeatedly stung.
Ross tried to untie himself from the rope but discovered that something as familiar as untying a climbing knot suddenly required more coordination than his brain and hands could manage.
He tried instead to remove his harness.
Even that became difficult.
Eventually, both were able to free themselves and run.
They estimate they fled roughly 200 meters before reaching an area with a bench. But getting away from the nest did not immediately end the attack. Yellowjackets were still trapped inside their clothing.
Jeni collapsed against a tree.
Ross collapsed on the bench.
Later, they would estimate that Ross had received more than 150 stings and Jeni more than 100.
And then Ross began getting worse.
“I Don’t Know If I’m Going to Die”
At first, Ross complained about intense pain around his head. Then he became lightheaded. When he tried to sit up, he felt as though he was going to pass out.
Some climbers were initially dismissive, assuming they had been stung by only a few bees, while others began coming down from a nearby crag to help. One of them, Jacqui, had medical training and recognized that the situation could be far more serious than simply a large number of painful stings.
Ross was given some Benadryl. Shortly afterward, he began drifting in and out of consciousness. Someone called 911.
A group of bystanders started carrying him down the trail while Jeni stayed beside him and helped communicate what was happening.
Ross remembers portions of that evacuation vividly.
When he lost consciousness, he remembers feeling strangely peaceful.
Then he would regain consciousness, initially believing he was waking into a nightmare, only to realize that what was happening was real.
His lips began to feel numb.
“I don’t know what’s going to happen,” he remembered thinking. “I don’t know if I’m going to die.”
Firefighters reached the group first.
Ross’s blood pressure was 60/30. He was in shock.
He was given epinephrine. When his blood pressure remained dangerously low, he received another dose.
Paramedics eventually met the group farther down the trail and continued treatment. Search and rescue personnel joined the response as Ross was evacuated toward the trailhead and transported to the hospital.
The emergency did not end when he reached the pavement.
At the hospital, attempts to discontinue the epinephrine caused his blood pressure to drop again. Ross spent the night in the intensive care unit and estimates that, over the course of the emergency, he received the equivalent of approximately six EpiPen doses.
The following day, once his vital signs remained stable without epinephrine, he was discharged.
Physically, the worst of the emergency was over. Emotionally, another kind of recovery was beginning.
Life Before and Life After
Ross had been stung before.
He had never considered himself allergic.
That assumption changed dramatically after this experience. Follow-up testing with an allergist showed a strong marker for wasp venom allergy, although Ross was told that predicting exactly what would happen with a future sting remains difficult.
He now carries epinephrine in his first aid kit.
But carrying medication is only part of what changed.
The experience altered Ross’s relationship with something he loves: climbing.
Yellowjackets are common outdoors, and avoiding them completely isn’t realistic. Within days of his experience and release from the hospital, Ross made a deliberate effort to return to climbing. Gradually, he become comfortable being around yellowjackets again.
“Climbing is a thing that I love,” he said. “I can climb again, and things will be okay.”
That doesn’t mean the fear simply disappeared.
After months of winter without seeing yellowjackets, Ross noticed his anxiety return when they became active again in the spring. He has worked to rebuild his comfort by experiencing them nearby without another attack.
Today, he can be climbing with yellowjackets flying nearby and remain relatively calm.
But the uncertainty is still there.
He knows he will probably be stung again someday.
He just doesn’t know what his body will do when it happens.
The Other Side of the Rescue
Jeni’s experience was different.
She, too, was attacked and suffered more than 100 stings. But much of her attention during and after the emergency remained focused on Ross.
She had watched one of her closest friends nearly die.
Jeni also had medical training, and afterward she found herself replaying the incident and questioning what she could have done differently.
Could she have recognized what was happening sooner?
Could she have helped more?
Could she have responded differently?
Her body was reacting involuntarily to extreme pain. She had managed to lower Ross safely, escape the swarm, stay with him, communicate with rescuers and his family, and help navigate an emergency unfolding far from the equipment and resources of a hospital.
Hindsight can make an emergency look orderly.
Living through one rarely is.
Jeni says the experience has made her think differently about the inner critic that often appears afterward—the tendency to judge decisions made under extraordinary circumstances with information and clarity that only became available later.
What They Want Other People to Know
Ross and Jeni are still climbers. Their story isn’t a reason to stop climbing, hiking or exploring wild places.
Instead, the experience changed how they think about preparing for the unexpected:
- Emergencies don’t always come from the hazard you expect. Climbers spend enormous amounts of time thinking about ropes, anchors, falls, rock, weather and equipment. On this day, the life-threatening hazard was a nest in the ground. Surveying the surroundings is important.
- Basic wilderness medical training matters. The person who first recognized that Ross might be experiencing a serious allergic reaction wasn’t part of their climbing party. She was another recreationist who happened to have enough training to recognize that something more serious could be happening. Jeni strongly recommends some level of first-aid or wilderness first-aid education for people spending time away from immediate emergency medical care.
- Know what is in your first-aid kit—and know how to use it. Ross now considers epinephrine an essential part of his own emergency planning. Jeni emphasized that simply carrying an epinephrine auto-injector is not enough: people who are prescribed one should learn how to use it and practice with the training device. Their experience also challenged an assumption Ross once held: having been stung previously without an allergic reaction did not guarantee that a future experience would be the same.
- Think about where you are before something goes wrong. Cell service, satellite communication, distance from a road, evacuation terrain and the ability of rescuers to reach you all matter. As Jeni put it, asking what would happen if an emergency occurred in a remote place isn’t paranoia. It’s preparation.
“I Need to Live a Life That Brings Me Joy”
There is one lesson Ross carries that has nothing to do with yellowjackets, climbing equipment or first aid. He describes the event as a dividing line.
Life before.
Life after.
“It was really, for me, a life-changing event,” he said.
Nearly dying gave him greater clarity about how he wants to spend the time he has.
“I need to live a life that brings me joy, makes me happy, and not waste the time that I have.”
He talks about appreciating what is around him, investing more intentionally in relationships and paying attention to parts of life that are easy to postpone when tomorrow feels guaranteed.
And among those relationships is his friendship with Jeni.
They shared an experience few people around them can completely understand. Having each other to process it with has become an important part of their recovery.
Jeni also carries profound gratitude for the strangers, firefighters, paramedics and rescuers who responded that day.
“I’m just so, so grateful for everyone who showed up,” she said, “and literally saved Ross’s life.”
Everyone Comes Home
Mountain rescue often begins with the unexpected.
Sometimes it is a fall, an avalanche, a navigation error or rapidly changing weather.
Sometimes it is something almost impossible to anticipate—a hidden yellowjacket nest beneath your feet.
Seattle Mountain Rescue volunteers train so that when an ordinary day becomes an emergency, someone is prepared to respond.
Ross and Jeni’s story is also a reminder that rescue doesn’t always end when everyone reaches the trailhead.
There can be a life before an emergency and a life after it.
Recovery may include physical healing, fear, gratitude, questions about what could have been done differently, a changed relationship with the outdoors—and eventually a decision to return to the places and activities that bring us joy.
Ross is still climbing.
Jeni is still climbing.
They are preparing differently.
They are paying attention differently.
And they are carrying forward an experience they hope might help someone else be better prepared when an ordinary day outside suddenly becomes anything but ordinary.
If you need rescue, call 911. Seattle Mountain Rescue responds through the King County Sheriff’s Office and provides rescue services free of charge.
