I was in a dark, wooded, narrow mountain valley which until recently had been underwater for decades. When the black water receded it revealed a small ’30s-era mining town(?) of log cabins, all of it preserved by the coldness of the water and the lack of life in it. I was walking through the camp, and everywhere I looked there were spiders: smooth, fat, brownish-white things about the size of a silver dollar. They were in doorways and empty windows, on railings, scuttling under porches and across rooftops. At one point I turned around to find one hanging a foot from my face, legs waving, fangs clearly visible. I didn’t freak out, but quickly kept walking out of town. Some guy was standing in one of the doorways, watching me go by, but we didn’t speak.
I woke up to see it was about 4:30am, then spent the next five minutes scratching every imaginary itch, certain the little alien horrors were crawling under my pillow. After falling back asleep I found myself outside the valley and looking across a lake toward a tall but narrow mountain. The surrounding area looked very much like the mountains of northern Idaho where I-90 cuts across it: dark, wooded, and eerie. There was, or had been, some kind of military post at the top of the hill and, after somehow crossing the lake, started climbing the metal stairs embedded in the side of the hill. The Army(?) didn’t want me to go up there, but were unable to stop me. I only saw/heard one soldier, but “behind the scenes” I knew that there was a lot more people involved. For some reason I was untouchable, and they knew it.
There was a dark figure waiting for me at the top but, unfortunately, I didn’t reach it before the alarm went off.