June in the White Mountains
June 15-24, 2026
Alpine Meadows
It's a thrill to kayak around an alpine lake, or hike a spectacular trail like West Baldy. But for us, the primary appeal of the White Mountains is the opportunity to walk. And walk. And walk.
On this trip, we discovered several wonderful new campsites, and wherever we camp, we hike every day — either bushwhacking through the forest, or following long-abandoned forest roads.
The ponderosa and aspen forest opens up into these vast, rolling, grassy meadows — many of them hidden from the main roads.
Old topo maps, most of which were created more than 40 years ago, describe a landscape worthy of northern Minnesota, with dozens of tanks and reservoirs linked together by ephemeral streams. Today, most of those streams are dry, and the former lakes are alpine meadows stretching from horizon to horizon.
On the sixth day of our trip, we relocated to one of our favorite campsites, on a knoll well north of Big Lake. Over the years, we have hiked every corner of this forest. A late afternoon hike took us along an old forest road, in search of an ice cold spring that delighted us two years ago.
We found the spring alright, but there wasn't a drop of water, and it broke our hearts.
A week into our trip, it was time for a "town day" — a chance to pick up a few groceries, maybe have a meal out, and visit a local coffee shop. No trip to Springerville, the nearest metropolis, is complete without a visit to Western Drug. Established in 1934, Western Drug is the ultimate small town cornucopia, offering everything from ammunition to groceries, clothing, a jaw-dropping crafts section, all manner of camping gear and a huge selection of alcoholic beverages. Dozens of animal heads line the walls, some of them integrated into an elaborate mural.
Meanwhile, the summer heat had arrived in earnest, and we couldn't wait to return to our cool pine forest. We followed another backroad deep into the woods, and emerged on the edge of an enormous meadow, at least six miles wide by four miles long. We wandered down one arm and up the other of the former reservoir, around an "island" covered in young aspens. Tp>
There wasn't another soul in sight, but neat footprints in the dirt proved that we were not alone.
We managed to squeeze in one more day of paddling, this time on Big Lake.
The wind made it a bit more challenging, but by putting in at the boat ramp, we avoided the worst of the quickmud.
As on all lakes in the White Mountains, there great blue herons aplenty, and deep tracks in the mud indicate that the shore is well used by elk at night.
We had planned to stay out a full two weeks, but when news reached us of a possible health issue with one of our cats, we decided to return home two days early. One more excellent breakfast at The Rendezvous, and it was time to go.
Thank you, Miss Bea Haven, for taking us down roads no RV should ever be asked to navigate, without a single complaint. And thanks to Dennis for always being willing to find out "what's around the next bend."
West Baldy