The trail we were hiking was high above the creek bottom. This gave us a great vantage to look down on some of the open spaces of grassy meadows dotted with a few juniper trees and rocks.

In one section of brush maybe 50 yards away, I spotted large, donkey-like ears poking up. I studied it for a minute and noticed a long face staring up at me. It was a moose bedded down in the grass and brush. It seemed to be looking at us and wondering if we were something to worry about.

Julie and I were out on an afternoon hike up Bear Creek on the southwest side of Palisades Reservoir last week. It was one of those spring days when you got a dose of nearly every kind of weather. The temperatures weren’t too bad when it was sunny, but then it would change to cloudy, windy, sprinkle a bit of snow, think about raining and go back to being pleasantly sunny — all in the space of half an hour.

The moose was about 2.2 miles up the canyon and started to stand and move after we gawked at it, snapped photos and asked it how it was doing. It appeared to be on the skinny side and had odd discolorations. Sadly, I think the creature was having some health issues.

All of the peaks in the region were still snow-covered above 8,000 to 9,000 feet. There’s still plenty of snow to melt off. Bear Creek is running high with murky spring flows. It will be a while before it becomes appealing to hiking anglers.

Bear Creek can be a fun fishing outing in late spring and early summer when spawning cutthroat trout swim up the creek. The spawners return back to the reservoir usually shortly afterward. There is a resident population of trout in the stream, but they tend to be smaller.

A few horseback riders have already braved the stream crossings this year. Hikers can avoid the several stream crossings on trails built higher along the canyon. I would rate the trail easy to moderate most of the way.

The trail is also open to mountain bikes and motorbikes.

At 2 miles up the trail, the canyon widens to some nice meadows and you come to the Forest Service Currant Creek station. Getting to the cabin requires crossing the stream.

About another 3 miles up the creek, you come to the North and South forks of Bear Creek. The trail forks here and the North Fork trail eventually leads to the Fall Creek trail system. The South Fork trail continues all the way to Skyline Ridge Road. Expect several stream crossings along the South Fork route. Unless you’re on a horse, the stream crossings can be a problem until the creek calms down in mid-summer.

Bear Creek is a popular trail in summer and is usually day-hiked or biked, but farther up the canyon, there are some attractive backpacking campsites. Julie was picking out a few sites to put her tent on an overnighter.

A good resource for directions for this trail and other regional trails can be found on the Caribou-Targhee National Forest website. Look for the summer recreation map and guide.

Jerry Painter is a longtime East Idaho journalist and outdoorsman.

Sometimes you have to endure some sour to enjoy some sweet.

That was the case with last week’s trip to some of Utah’s fun backcountry haunts. We had to pass through lots of urban sprawl to get to the wonderful outdoors.

Our excuses for driving down to Utah Valley last week where we once lived about a hundred years ago include: The weather was a bit better (at least it wasn’t snowing down there), we had friends and family to visit, there were two fun canyons filled with rock climbing routes and we had a wedding anniversary to celebrate.

At first we thought about staying at an Airbnb, a bed and breakfast or a motel, but we didn’t realize that it was graduation week at Brigham Young University and the pickin’s were slim. So being the cheap rascals that we are, we crashed at my brother’s house. It turned out to be a type of bed and breakfast after all.

The first day we drove up American Fork Canyon toward the north end of Utah Valley. This canyon features dozens of hiking trails, Timpanogos Cave National Monument and nearly 1,000 bolted rock climbing routes.

The narrow winding canyon is mostly National Forest land featuring several campgrounds, picnic areas and trailheads. A fee is charged to use the facilities, similar to a national park. We avoided the fee areas and parked at a pullout alongside the road and hiked up to one of the limestone cliffs. The canyon is also popular with cyclists.

There is a guidebook for climbing in the canyon but it is not up to date. It was printed in the late 1990s and climbing route development has nearly doubled since then. The only up-to-date guide is the online information found on Mountain Project. Warning: Download the information to your phone or other device before entering the canyon because cell service is spotty once in the canyon.

Despite it being the middle of the week, and the middle of the day, we were not alone at the crags. We chalked that up to it being a rare nice spring day and the fact that, like us, Utahns would rather play than work.

Because we lacked specific info about the climbing area, we used the iffy method of finding fun rock climbs: We winged it. We walked past the routes and said, “That one looks fun, let’s give it a go.” A couple of local dudes (a technical name for rock climbers) showed up at the wall we were climbing at and climbed a nearby route they said was named “Platinum Blonde” and recommended it. In my book, platinum blonde are a bit suspicious but this route turned out to be the best climb of the day.

The second day of our Utah Valley adventure was spent in Rock Canyon. This narrow canyon winds up into the Wasatch Mountains just behind The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints Provo Temple. That landmark makes it an easy canyon to locate. It features popular hiking trails and hundreds of rock climbing routes — many of which have been developed in recent years. Once again, the online Mountain Project is your best guide, unless you have a local “dude” to show you around.

We found a couple of walls to climb on not far from the trailhead to occupy us for several hours. Looking around we realized that we barely scratched the surface of things to explore in this canyon. Some climbers we met were launching into some tall, multi-pitch bolted routes in the canyon, while others, like us, were sticking to single pitch climbs.

If you go here, expect to see people. Because of two nearby universities, people have a variety of schedules allowing them to get outside at all times of the day and during the week. We noticed a steady stream of people entering the canyon during our Thursday morning visit. Plus, Utah Valley has lots of people. Expect some company.

Jerry Painter is a longtime East Idaho journalist and outdoorsman.

Finding nice weather Saturdays in early spring in eastern Idaho is rare.

It’s as rare as a running Chevy Corvair automobile. The word Corvair shakes loose an old memory.

My high school friend Rick owned a Corvair that, when we could get the thing to run, we proudly drove around our tiny Oregon town. He thought it was his good fortune to have bought it for $100 back in the early ‘70s, even though the car was only a few years old. The rear-engine car had the dubious honor of being named one of the most unsafe machines in America. Rumor was that if you had a head-on collision the force could send the steering wheel shaft like a javelin through the chest of the driver (I usually sat in the passenger seat). It was engineered with the precision of a homemade go-kart. Other awesome features included push-button dashboard shifting, a radio that got one station and bald tires — we loved it (when we could get it to run). We never seemed to get any girls to ride along with us (but that may not have been just the car).

But back to our outdoor activities: Last Saturday, my sweetheart and I had a few hours available on a rare sunny Saturday afternoon, so we headed over to the Menan Buttes. The north butte, on Bureau of Land Management land, boasts a fun trail leading up from the west side.

When we arrived, there was a massive trail run race finishing up, and cars were parked for a hundred yards along the road. Normally, the paved trailhead parking lot is enough to accommodate the usual amount of visitors.

The trail runners were doing the Spitfire Ultra Challenge race with distances ranging from 5K to 50K.

The 3-mile trail starts off steeply up the side of the extinct volcano and eventually tops out on the rim of the butte. From the rim, the trail circles the volcanic crater and offers great views (on clear days) of the surrounding Snake River Plain. There are a few trail signs telling visitors about geology, local critters and history.

For more information on the Menan Butte Trail and how to get there, go to www.blm.gov/visit/north-menan-butte-trail.

The south butte is mostly private property and doesn’t offer much for hikers.

To the west of the north Menan Butte is an Idaho Fish and Game wildlife management area for those interested in bird watching and seeing other critters.

On Monday (another rare nice weather day), Julie and I and a friend spent a few hours checking out some new rock climbing routes at the Boot Camp Wall, a crag along the Blackfoot River canyon east of Firth.

I had been there a few times before, but some new routes had been installed since my last visit.

When we arrived we felt like we had stepped into a pleasant summer day. If it wasn’t for our friend’s commitment to teaching online piano classes at 6 p.m., we probably would have stayed well past dinner time.

Of course, Monday was as rare as a Corvair automobile because when the rest of the weekdays arrived, nasty chilly spring days returned.

Jerry Painter is a longtime East Idaho journalist and outdoorsman.

It was the afternoon of Friday, April 8, in Yellowstone National Park, and all traffic on the road along the Madison River came to a screeching crawl, like blasting down Interstate 15 into Salt Lake City and hitting rush hour traffic.

The traffic on this day was mostly bicyclists riding the road between West Yellowstone, Mont. and Mammoth Hot Springs. The road is open during the first two weeks of April to bikes and authorized park vehicles only.

This traffic jam was caused by the locals. In this case, a few dozen bison decided to take a casual stroll down the road as they moved from one meadow to another.

Being caught behind the giant, shaggy animals was both exciting and frustrating. It was cool to join the herd as it moved down the road in the direction I was going — toward West Yellowstone — but my stomach was telling me it was time to get back and fill the empty space.

I had planned on riding with some friends on April 9 (a Saturday) from West Yellowstone to Mammoth Hot Springs and back, about a 97-mile round-trip, but the weather forecast for that day was dismal — cold, windy and messy. The day before, however, looked promising. Nearly 60 degrees and sunny was in the forecast, but I would be on my own.

I started out solo from the West Yellowstone visitor center parking lot at about 9:15 a.m. with bright sunny skies and freezing temperatures, but with the promise of warmer times ahead. Few people were on the road during that chilly hour, and I was struck by the amazing beauty of the park when it was waking up on a bright spring morning.

The first animal (other than birds) that I saw was a coyote darting toward the road. When it saw me, it did 180 degrees and sprinted back into the forest (I often have that effect on folks).

A few miles from the Madison Junction, I passed a small group of bison off in the meadow along the river. They were standing like statues, sleeping in the frosty morning.

Along the way, I only passed the occasional biker or pair of bikers up to the Gibbon Falls area. Most of the time I was riding in the park by myself. It felt exhilarating. When I arrived at Madison Junction (about 14 miles in), I stopped to take a layer of clothes off. I was about to head up the long hill next to Gibbon Falls and didn’t want to break into a big sweat. About 20 miles later, I started passing riders coming the opposite direction from Mammoth Hot Springs. Some were guided groups on e-bikes. At about mile 44 or so, the road drops sharply for a few miles down to the community of Mammoth Hot Springs. I made a beeline to the General Store.

It was 12:15 p.m. when I sat and ate a salty turkey sandwich I bought from the dairy case. Another guy showed up who had also ridden in from West Yellowstone. He reported getting a flat on the steep downhill.

After sitting and relaxing and texting my sweetheart, I began the steep ride up the hill out of Mammoth Hot Springs. It didn’t help that a headwind was starting to pick up. Thankfully the ride back to West Yellowstone is mostly a gradual downhill, with a few uphills to keep you working hard.

Partway back I met a guy from Rexburg who knew me somehow and we rode back together. It’s always helpful to take turns drafting in the headwind.

Just past the bridge over the Madison River, we rode into the bison jam. A couple of brave souls biked up to the bison on the right side of the road and squeezed past the herd. The bison slowly, politely opened up a path and the group of bikers flooded past.

When I arrived in West Yellowstone, my bike computer said I had gone 97 miles. Because I’m a bit crazy, I decided to ride across town and weave in and out of the blocks until I had an even 100 miles logged. I pretty much saw everything the town has to offer.

Jerry Painter is a longtime East Idaho journalist and outdoorsman.

One thing I’ve noticed about humans is that they love to name things. Since rock climbers are sort of human, too, they also engage in this phenomenon of giving everything a name.

It shouldn’t be a big surprise. Most recreations give their equipment, participants, locations and actions goofy, descriptive or clever names that require explanations to folks out of the loop.

One common name for a typical belay device — that piece of equipment that catches a falling climber attached to a rope — is called an ATC. ATC stands for “air traffic controller.”

Names in the newish Teddy Bear Cove climbing area near American Falls have a mostly classic rock theme. Some kooky names of climbing routes around eastern Idaho include Seeking Sleazy Squeezes, Mr. Hanky, Who Killed Kenny and Make Love Not Warcraft. Sometimes you have to climb a route because the name is so funky. Other times you may avoid it because of the name. Like the route named “Clip Me Deadly.” I climbed that route and thought I was going to fall and hurt myself trying to clip the next bolt hanger.

Last week I was climbing with my sweetheart and friends at an area called The Playground in the Blackfoot River canyon. This wall has been established for decades and has several fun routes worth climbing over and over again. (One is named Cure for the Hangover — a route that goes under a huge overhanging rock.)

While we were climbing, my friend Billy was up the canyon a few hundred yards at a wall called Boot Camp Wall. He was busy bolting a new route and adding new routes to the climbs already there. He and a friend started bolting routes on the wall when they discovered its potential a couple of years ago. They named the wall Boot Camp because Billy’s son was at the time going through military boot camp.

Bolting sport climbing routes was a new thing (and controversial) with the traditional “place-your-own-protection-as-you-climb” crowd in the United States in the mid 1980s. About that time a French climber came to eastern Oregon’s Smith Rock State Park and bolted hangers onto a nearly blank wall that was impossible to protect traditionally and showed North Americans how things were being done in Europe. The name of the route captured climbers’ imagination: To Bolt or Not To Be.

Since those days, sport climbing around the world has become the most popular form of rock climbing. To Bolt or Not to Be is still mega hard (5.14a/b) and not often repeated because the rock texture resembles an asphalt street turned vertical.

Naming rock climbing routes, similar to naming mountain bike trails or classic races, has become a thing usually done by the first ascensionist.

After Billy was done bolting his new route, he showed up at The Playground where we were climbing and asked me if I wanted an “FA?” (first ascent).

“I think it’s a pretty easy 5.8,” he said. “And you’ll get to name it.”

Up until this time, the only thing I think I’ve helped name was my children (and they’ve never forgiven me for that).

So, trusting that Billy’s bolts would hold should I happen to slip and fall (in climber lingo: “take a whipper”), I launched off on his new route. The route was a bit easier than his other routes on the Boot Camp wall.

“I thought it would go at 5.8,” he said of the difficulty rating.

“You could make a case for it being 5.7,” I said. “But 5.8 works.” There was a spot or two where you had to puzzle it out a bit.

“So what do you want to name it?” Billy asked. “It should have a military theme since it’s the Boot Camp Wall.”

I thought of my grandfather who served in World War II and him telling me of recruits getting extra “KP duty” when they were in trouble with the officers. KP stood for kitchen police and meant you would be tasked with cleaning dishes and peeling potatoes for the whole barracks.

“How about ‘Stuck on KP duty’?” I asked Billy.

He approved.

Other names at the Boot Camp Wall include: Buzz Cut, Boots, Lock n’ Load and The Reaper.

I’m not sure if the name I gave the route will inspire folks to climb it, but since it’s still new and still dirty in spots, it could use some cleaning.

Jerry Painter is a longtime East Idaho journalist and outdoorsman.

Visiting desert national parks was a joyful experience. Sleeping in desert campgrounds turned out to be a mixed bag.

Recently my sweetheart and I visited two national parks in the southwest — Joshua Tree and Saguaro national parks.

Joshua Tree is a rugged desert area in southern California in an area where two deserts meet, the Mojave and Colorado deserts. Two major features about this park stood out to me: The vast tracks of large Joshua trees and giant boulders and rock formations of a coarse type of granite.

I had seen Joshua trees before, but never so many and so large. Many of the “trees” were as big as a house. Joshua trees are not a true tree, but a type of yucca plant that grows to the size and similar shape of a tree. The area also has junipers and piñon pines and a variety of cactus plants.

We met my daughter and her family who flew in from Wisconsin to Palm Springs, California and chased two small grandsons on some of the trails in the park. The boys had fun scrambling up rocks, talking to lizards and watching jackrabbits dart away.

The next day, my wife Julie and I returned to Joshua Tree to sample some of the thousands of rock climbing routes in the park. I was not feeling as spunky as I had hoped. Poor sleep the night before caused by noisy campground neighbors and a giant desert rock concert with sound that carried throughout the region turned my sniffles into a bigger deal.

We did manage to find some wonderful climbing routes and have an enjoyable time.

After a couple of days in Joshua Tree, we traveled to Tucson, Arizona to visit in-laws and sample the sights.

In the Tucson area, the dominant exceptional plant is saguaro cactus. They look like giant green cigars covered in spines and standing straight up. I was told that they don’t start growing arms until they are about 70 years old. Many are two stories tall.

Saguaro National Park celebrates this exceptional plant and protects it along with petroglyphs and a unique desert environment. The park is actually two separate land sections, one on the east side of Tucson and one on the west side of the city.

I rode my bicycle from my in-laws’ home through the town over to the east side national park and then rode the one-way loop road (about 8 miles) through the park. The total distance was 29 miles door-to-door, and I was so proud of myself for not getting lost and having to phone a friend for directions. (Tucson seems to be easier to get around in than Albuquerque.)

Riding a bike through Saguaro National Park was sheer joy, and I found myself grinning most of the time. There are pullouts along the way with a few desert trails to explore.

Besides the rabbits and lizards that I saw along the way in Saguaro National Park, I’m told that there is a full complement of other desert critters, including cougars, tortoises, snakes, birds and the coatimundi — a funky looking cat-like animal that has a long tail that sticks straight up. My in-laws said they’ve seen one pass through their yard along with javelinas — a mean little wild desert pig with dark hair and weapon-like tusks. They’re so tough that they munch on cactus, and most everything gets out of their way.

It seems every type of plant in the desert southwest has spines or quills growing on it. My worry was riding a bike down here and having enough spare inner tubes. But so far, I’ve yet to change a flat. Just dumb luck no doubt.

The Tucson area brags that it is prime cycling country. There is a huge network of mountain biking trails and almost all of the streets have well-placed bike lanes. A cyclist could get used to this town quickly.

Jerry Painter is a longtime East Idaho journalist and outdoorsman.