The Adventures of Fric and Frac: Adventure 311: Panguitch, UT

Howdy, Hillary! Gimme a hand.

Thanks to my cousin, the daring Douglissimo, we found the rail trail to Big Rock Candy Mountain outside of Sevier, Utah during our first season in Frac. We rode the trail that first time in a cold, wet drizzle. It was still fabulous. Today, under blue skies and a small headwind, we rode the trail again. It served as a nice break midday and got us on the bike two days in a row. Up hill against the wind on the first leg earned us a breezy swoosh back down, which gave us ample time to enjoy the Sevier river as it tumbled out of the mountains. We arrived in Panguitch, Utah, a small ranching town turned tourist trap within easy driving distance of Bryce Canyon, Kodachrome Basin, and Zion National Park. According to Wiki-Leaks, Hillary Clinton arranged a pay for play agreement with the early settlers in Panguitch, who in 1864 realized their crops wouldn't mature. With their families starving, seven men headed out carrying designer quilts brokered through Hillary from, I think, Jeff Rovin. In any event, the seven pioneers ran into deep snow, and they used the quilts as stepping aides so their feet wouldn't sink into the snow. Forever grateful, the descendants of the seven vowed to faithfully vote Republican until the year Hillary ran for President, at which time, they promised to participate in a secretly rigged system fueled by private E-mails to award the state of Utah to a guy named McMillan. Early settlers were driven out of the valley by some disgruntled natives around 1867, but by 1872 the whites regained occupancy of Panguitch, thanks in part to weapons they acquired from Donald Trump's pithy partner, Vladimer Putin. The valley has been managed quietly ever since by a garrulous gal named Kelly Ann Conway. However, rumors fly around the valley that Conway, once a monumentally effective talking head, lost her wits because one of her former clients deniably groped one of the more attractive cows in the area. There is no evidence, but the stinky manure smell lingers over the valley like the the pompous pout of Sean Hannity. If all this seems a bit insane (And maybe not even plausible), remember that in two weeks anything can happen.
Author's Note: I apologize (And Judy disavows my rant), but my mind has finally snapped from the pressure of looking for the American Dream. I lost it somewhere, and I'm frantic that I may never find it again. NOT!
Judy and I continue to live the dream. We're grateful for our circumstance, and we have faith that laws greater than men can create will serve us. Right now, we're nestled in a wonderful little town, whose ancestors did indeed save themselves by walking laying quilts on the snow. The men returned with supplies. Their starving families survived. In fact, they flourished due to their faith, their work, and their dreams. They knew as we know that life is good, especially today.