Quilted Southern

(NOTE: Look, I really didn't want to use a toilet paper reference for my title, but my alternatives weren't any better. Like "Kane-ing Garfield and a Beaver" or "Gar and Rich Fields.")

As I continue to work toward my bucket list of visiting all the counties and all the county seats before I turn 30, it has come to the point where I need to work harder at it. I set apart this weekend to visit two new counties and six new (or "new") county seats.

I invited some people to go with me, but they couldn't go with. Then I invited some others, and they gave me vague, noncommittal answers, I think because they didn't want to go. I can understand that, but an actual "no" would have been better. And then there are lots of people I didn't invite because I go through a lot of mental anguish extending invitations.

So, instead, I took my mom with me. We headed out on Friday for this quick county seat tour.

First we stopped in Fillmore, the seat of Millard County. I've been going to Fillmore my whole life, but this was the first time I'd been since I've been 29. We drove past the house where my grandparents lived. The roof and shutters aren't red anymore, but otherwise it looks the same. I can still picture the layout of the house, even though I haven't been there since 2007. We also stopped at various convenience stores so I could find a Bomb Pop.

Then we drove down to Beaver, the seat of Beaver County, to stay for the night. We got one of the last hotel rooms because there was some Little League tournament. I did not sleep well.

On Saturday morning, we drove down to Panguitch, the seat of Garfield County. While I had already been in Millard and Beaver Counties this year, Garfield was new. Panguitch was actually the main draw of this trip and the reason I went when I did.

In 1864, a few men were sent to gather supplies for their fledgling new community of Panguitch after a poor growing season. On their return, impassable mountains made them leave their wagons behind. They traveled by foot, but they kept sinking in the snow. So, desperate, they spread out a quilt and knelt and prayed. As they prayed, they realized they weren't sinking in the snow on their quilt. So they were able to walk across the mountain on their quilts (one version I heard is that they walked on their knees on the quilts) and save their town. So now, every June, Panguitch has a quilt festival. I figured if I was going to go to Panguitch, this was the time to do it.

We went to Panguitch High School, where the quilts were on display. I'm impressed with that form of artwork. I don't think I'd have the patience for it. There were a couple of quilts that told the story of the quilts.

 There were a few quilting vendors there. I bought some holiday candy-themed materials to make pillowcases.

If I had realized the Christmas one had a few eight-pointed snowflakes on it, that might have been a dealbreaker.

Panguitch even has a statue commemorating the story.

I had a few ancestors in Panguitch, but I don't know much (anything) about them. I even went to the Panguitch Cemetery to find them, but they weren't there. (There was a flood there in 1900 that washed away some of the headstones. Maybe that's what happened?)

Since I was already as far south as Panguitch, I went down to Kanab, the seat of Kane County. We ate lunch and went to the Little Hollywood Museum. Kanab was once a major location for filming westerns, back when those were a thing. So they have this free museum with random old set pieces. I wouldn't pay to go there, but it was fun for free.

The "adobe" buildings are made of fiberglass.

Scary mannequins!

Rather then head back through Beaver to go home, we went on I-70 and Highway 89 to hit a few other county seats. We went to Junction (for some reason my mom kept calling it Tropic) in Piute County and got popsicles at their general store. Then we went to Richfield in Sevier County for dinner.

It was fun! Now I have ten more counties and twelve more county seats to go. Most of them are in eastern Utah.

Of course, that isn't all I did this week. I have found that June is one of those months where I don't have time to do everything I want, so I fit it in when I can.

Since 2012 or 2013, I have made June the month when I try to eradicate goathead plants. These plants are so evil that if they were people, no one would feel bad torturing them. I have spent a few evenings pulling them. On Thursday, I pulled a few dozen tiny plants. The tiny ones are less satisfying than the big ones, but it's probably more effective than picking the big ones that have already formed seeds and spread pollen. I'm sure more plants will grow back in that patch, but if I keep coming back every June, then maybe one day they'll be gone!

One evening I went up Centerville Canyon, where I went last August. In August, I munched on a few thimbleberries, but in June, they're still blossoms.

 It was the first time I have ever seen wild mushrooms on a hike.

 It does have a nice waterfall.

But I didn't see any sego lilies in the canyon, so after coming home from the county seat tour, I had to visit the Woodbriar Trail, where there are always lots of them in June. Most of them are still in their cup shape, not their spread shape. But I love them. You know that great feeling when you see a bald eagle and want to shout "America" and sing "The Star Spangled Banner"? Well, when I see sego lilies, I want to shout "Utah!" and sing "Utah, This Is the Place." (Well, I would if I knew the song. It came out when I was in first grade, and that's the only time I've ever sung it.)