But right now, the actual power of the state seems to be located about 50 miles to the south - in Utah County.

Happy Valley leaders advise the governor and hold top seats in the Utah Senate and House. They determine which legislation gets a hearing, where transportation funding will go, what the state's public lands policy will be and the direction tax reform discussions will take.

While the Utah County politicians discount their clout, others say their dominance, and its benefits, are obvious. Observers also expect the Legislature to shift even further right under their conservative influence.

"I just don't think there's any question that when an area gets some political clout, it gives them a chance to improve the prospects for that area," says Nolan Karras, former House speaker and gubernatorial candidate.

The number of Utah County politicians leading state government is indisputable. Lt. Gov. Gary Herbert was a longtime Utah County commissioner before taking the No. 2 post in the state. Jason Chaffetz, Gov. Jon Huntsman Jr.'s chief of staff, lives in Alpine. Senate President John Valentine, an Orem resident, spent 17 years working his way through legislative leadership until he was elected by his peers late last year. House Majority Leader Jeff Alexander, from Provo, has done the same in the House. Provo Republican Rep. Rebecca Lockhart and Sen. Curtis Bramble are in charge of the influential House Rules Committee and the Tax Reform Task Force, respectively.

Herbert blames the apparent block of officeholders from Utah County on coincidence rather than strategy.

"Things like this go in cycles," the lieutenant governor said.

And Utah County leaders insist they take a more statewide approach to legislation when they are in leadership jobs.

"I probably get more calls and e-mails from outside my district now," Valentine said. "We have to take a very nonparochial view."

Still, Utah County lawmakers' first year in charge yielded tangible results for their constituents. They set aside $30 million in transportation funding to widen Interstate 15 in Utah County and killed legislation that would have required the county to raise sales taxes for transit projects. They influenced legislation to transform Intermountain Health Care, streamline the state's tax structure and limit redevelopment. In one loss, Utah Valley State College did not receive funding for a digital learning center. But in exchange for funding a seismic upgrade of the University of Utah's Marriott Library, the Utah County leaders reportedly extracted a promise to put the UVSC project at the top of next year's funding list.

"It's been a long time since Utah County has had this much influence," one lobbyist said.

The Utah County phenomenon is not unique. Regional trends in state leadership have shifted over the years, sometimes from chamber to chamber. Just a few years ago, some argued Salt Lake County controlled state government with former Senate President Al Mansell, Majority Leader Steve Poulton, Majority Leader Michael Waddoups and then-House Majority Leader Greg Curtis leading the Legislature, while Gov. Mike Leavitt and Lt. Governor Olene Walker, both Salt Lake City residents, controlled the executive branch. A few years earlier, the House and Senate were controlled by Davis and Weber County legislators - then-House Speaker Marty Stephens, from Farr West, House Majority Leader Kevin Garn, a Layton resident and Senate President Lane Beattie from Bountiful. Walker, who grew up in Weber County, also gets counted in that era.

Karras, House speaker from 1989 to 1990, acknowledges using his clout to get a museum built at Hill Air Force Base and change Weber State from a two-year college to a four-year university. Regional power in numbers is most useful in leadership meetings each morning of the legislative session - the "guts" of the legislative process, as he calls it - where budget priorities are carved out and legislation is shored up.

But, Karras says, outright pork-barreling is held in check by budget constraints and the sheer numbers of legislators from other areas of the state. Besides, he notes, Utah County's poor air quality left it out of highway funding for years. And students at UVSC pay a higher proportion of school costs than students at any other school.

"There's no question [Utah County legislators] have clout and they can do what they need to do. But the budget's tight enough that you'd better have a pretty good case to make," Karras said. "There's an argument that they've been behind, both in college and highway funding. It's just sort of their turn. I don't think they need to apologize."

Karras expects Utah County to have a slight advantage in the legislative process for a few years. But, he says, it won't be disproportionate.

In the meantime, some wonder if other areas of the state will suffer: Salt Lake County, with its Democratic representatives and senators, in particular.

"Salt Lake County's going to be at a disadvantage for a long time," said one observer, who asked to remain anonymous.

But Bramble points to funding for the Salt Palace expansion and the Marriott Library renovation as proof of the limits on regionalism.

"At the end of the day, the Legislature generally looks at where the highest priorities for spending are. We do it based on the merits of the presentation, not based on bringing home pork to our district," he said. "There's a whole lot of speculation, an imputed agenda that I just don't believe exists."

House Speaker Greg Curtis agrees. He says internal politics, where legislators pick their peers for leadership, also naturally limit regionalism. If legislative leaders from one area overplay their hand, they can be kicked out. Utah County's time inevitably will come to an end.

"A little bit of it happens, but not nearly to the degree that everyone likes to attribute," Curtis said. "In leadership, you serve at the pleasure of your body. No one county or region is large enough that they control the voting block."