At 14,200'/4,300', in the basin at the top of the Kahiltna, is perhaps the most important campsite on the West Buttress route.  During the climbing season National Park Service Climbing Rangers maintain a constant presence there, with radios and basic medical equipment.  Several routes other than the West Buttress, including West Rib variations and the Messner Couloir, lead through this camp.  We were there at the height of the season, and the camp was crowded with more than a hundred climbers of many nationalities.

After arriving we spent hours preparing our tentsites, kitchen and protective snow walls. This ritual became more difficult as we climbed higher, with harder snow and thinner air. The next day was planned as a rest day, but in fact we were quite busy. In the morning three of us climbed part way up the headwall to get a better look at the fixed ropes and picturesque surroundings. Two of the guides climbed a mix of snow and rock to the ridge of the West Buttress. Later most of us walked to the "Edge of the World" at the basin's outer lip, where we had views of several Denali ridges, Mount Foraker, Mount Hunter and the sweep of the Kahiltna below. Back in camp we practiced techniques such as running belays and ascending a fixed line, to prepare for the climbing that lay ahead.

We had a chance to use some of those techniques the next morning, when we carried supplies up the steep headwall to the top of the fixed lines (approx. 16,000'/4,900 m.). There we cached our supplies in hard snow, and took a closer look at the rocky ridge leading to high camp. Then, in a sudden cold squall we hastened back down the headwall to the basin camp.

We had hoped to climb all the way up the headwall and ridge to high camp the next day, but that plan was foiled by bad weather. We actually spent the next two days stormed in at the basin camp. Several feet of snow fell, and we could hear booming avalanches on slopes all around us. Again we settled into a routine of shoveling, eating, reading and napping. To break up hours in the tent, I walked around camp in the blowing snow. All of the other teams were in a similar predicament, unable to move higher due to the weather. The second day, many bored climbers flocked to the Rangers' tents for an impromptu skiing and sliding exhibition on a handcrafted course.

When our team's turn came, we moved quickly up the fixed lines despite our heavy loads. At the top of the lines we gathered where we had cached three days earlier. One member had suffered breathing problems on the headwall, and decided to return to the basin camp with a guide. The rest of us split up most of the cached supplies and loaded them into our already bulging packs. We left some supplies cached, on the chance that we might need them if we spent more than a few days at high camp.

We hoped to stay only two or perhaps three nights at this camp, but in the end we spent five. For the first three days we endured the whims of the weather. Aside from a few short walks to visit neighboring camps or enjoy the views from atop nearby Rescue Gully, we were tentbound. We had carried up only the bare necessities, and so dispensed with many creature comforts. Cooking was limited to melting snow and adding the heated water to dried food, which the guides did in their tent vestibule. Because we had limited time and supplies, each passing day was an emotional rollercoaster. We listened to weather forecasts and hoped that the next day would be calm enough for a summit attempt, but entertained the possibility that we might descend without ever having a chance to reach the top. One day, three Russian climbers headed for the summit through high wind and blowing snow; we heard that one turned back, but two toughed it out and made it the whole way. Another day a guided team climbed slowly up toward Denali Pass, pausing frequently to dig avalanche pits in the fresh snow, but turned around at the pass due to high winds. Aside from them, the climbers at high camp waited, watched and hoped.

When it became clear that we would be spending more than a couple of days at high camp, a guide descended to our cache at the top of the headwall to retrieve more food and fuel. But our supplies were still limited, and we were swiftly approaching the date when we had to fly off the mountain and return home. We arrived at high camp on Sunday, June 8, and by Wednesday some other teams began descending, abandoning their summit hopes. One member of our team had a crucial work commitment, and to assure a timely return he descended with a guide on Wednesday morning. In fact, we all considered descending on Wednesday, but remained in the hope that it might clear on Thursday, the last possible day for us to attempt the summit. On Wednesday evening we heard a forecast for improved weather the next day. But we knew that even if we did reach the summit, our schedule would then necessitate a grueling, continuous descent from high camp all the way back to base camp if we were to fly out on time.