The last time I hiked up to Spider Meadow (or Phelps Creek), we had reached the glacier high up above and realized with dismay, that there was no where left to camp. The sun was beating down on us and we became frustrated. One option was to push on and try to climb over Spider Glacier to the lake on the other side, but we were ill equipped and nearly out of time and energy. Instead, we found a dried up riverbed and dug in - much to the happiness of all the bugs that were desperately trying to suck out whatever moisture remained. The views were nice, but it was hellish up there and we spent most of the day looking down longingly at the beautiful meadow far down below us. If only we had stopped there, we thought.
The memory is not one of my better ones and I wasn't eager to return, but it had been a few years, so I was finally ready to give the meadow a second chance. Getting there is still no cupcake, as it takes nearly 20 miles of forest service roads to reach the trail head, but once there, is a slow, straight five mile hike in along the river to the valley floor. The meadow itself is a mile long, so by the time all things are done, you've put in 12 miles of relative flatness, a low-risk, high reward exercise, as the meadow is breathtaking: high, dramatic peaks, waterfalls, a mile of wildflowers with a small stream gently meandering through the whole thing - all framed in by a majestic blue sky.
It really was perfect - carved out by the retreating glacier, Spider Meadow would be the very first backpacking expedition for friend Elizabeth. Armed with the latest in high tech cutlery (titanium spork, anyone?), we teased her about spending so much money for light-weight items until she revealed what she was able to pack with the weight savings: 4 liters of wine!
I could only laugh as I pulled out my own surprise, in the form of 6 pint-sized cans of Rolling Rock. It would be a good night - and it was. The milky way was as bright as I'd ever seen it. Stories were being tossed around the camp in abundance, as were bars of chocolate. The bugs were absent and what few decided to pop in were of the decidedly stupid variety, sitting on your arms just waiting to be swatted dead.
Another thing that was different this time around was the abundance of wildlife. Deer were everywhere; a buck bounded into the meadow right in front of us and throughout the night, curious deer would venture closer and closer until chased off by Saffy and Amber. Another difference this time around - we cooked. Actual food, no less. Pizza with a polenta crust and beer pancakes. We had so much beer, we made pancakes with it.
I thought about it later, but what better experience could there be for the first time backpacker? It certainly is not like this all the time. Sometimes, its cloudy, wet, and all your food has been soaked. Sometimes it snows. Sometimes, the sun is angry and the dust chokes your breath, and the trail is so steep and unbearable that you wonder why you do it at all.
But then sometimes, you have a weekend like we did and it all becomes clear again. Sometimes, you have the perfect weekend.
The WTA's work crew has been out there - whatever damage to the meadow is hard to find. The meadow is definately open for business.
Posted by: Jacob | August 19, 2009 at 12:47 PM
Very nice! I need to make it out there sometime. I had read that avalanches from last winter had destroyed some of the meadow. It looks like you still had plenty to enjoy.
John
Posted by: John | August 19, 2009 at 08:56 AM