Over the weekend, Black Desert Resort in Ivins, Utah, hosted the first PGA tournament in Utah more than 60 years. And I — the least qualified person on the planet to observe professional golf — was there.

I come from a golf family but am not myself a golfer. And I never really understood my dad’s and my brother’s passion for such a quiet, slow-moving sport. I’m a runner. But my dad — the ultimate golf enthusiast — had purchased four tickets to the tournament before his passing, and it felt appropriate that me, my mom and my siblings attend in his place.

My knowledge of golf prior to this day was limited to what I picked up from the televised tournaments my dad watched, and fell asleep to, every Sunday. We would all fall asleep, actually. There’s nothing quite like the ambient noise of bird chirping and quiet clapping to lull you to sleep on a Sunday afternoon. If the Calm app doesn’t have golf as an audio option, it should. I also learned a few things from watching the Netflix series “Full Swing,” which is about a group of professional golfers. I enjoyed it way more than I expected to but mostly because it focused on the human drama of the game and not the actual mechanics of golf.

So I wasn’t sure what to expect when I arrived with my mom and siblings at the tournament on Friday, except maybe there would be an opportunity to nap. What I should have expected was the 95-degree heat made more intense in the desert landscape with black lava rock.

Also, I had very much missed the memo on the appropriate wardrobe choices. I was dressed for an afternoon of tea and bridge at the country club. Everyone else was dressed for a round of golf because, as I learned too late, the dress code for watching golf is the same as it is for playing golf. In case one of the players drops out and they need fill-ins, I guess.

Those in slack shorts and polos made of sweat-wicking, cooling athletic fabrics appeared to be much more comfortable than I was in my thick, canvas dress. I was a disaster. And I was confused about how golf spectatorship actually works. We were watching from our seats between the 16th and 17th hole and I was surprised to learn, though now it seems obvious, that it’s impossible to watch an entire golf tournament at once.

I’m used to spectating sports from stands where all of the action happens in one specific spot visible to everyone watching. But the 132 professional golfers in this tournament traversed more than 7,200 yards, starting at many different tee times, making it physically impossible to have eyes on every drive, chip and putt. Planting in one place, like we did that first day, meant watching a number of golfers come through and being very impressed by how far and how accurately they hit the ball but having no idea what those shots meant in the larger context of the tournament.

By the second day, we had decided to take a different approach to watching, in more weather-appropriate attire. We spent the morning walking along the course, watching different players tee off and enjoying the breathtaking visuals of the black and red rock sandwiched between the green grass and blue sky. Once we let go of our expectation of following the state of play, beyond what information was available on the monitors, we had a really lovely time.

I don’t know if I’ve ever seen a more beautiful landscape than what we saw in Ivins, and the course, designed by the late and legendary Tom Weiskopf. It’s stunning enough for even a non-golfer to appreciate. And the golfers we saw made hitting a ball 350 yards look like a cinch. It was a spectacle of beauty and talent. And while it was still unseasonably warm, there were refreshing beverages around every corner to keep us cool.

Appreciating golf, I learned, isn’t so much about watching an entire sports event, but about witnessing a series of spectacular moments. And I started to get the appeal of spending entire days out on the course, hitting a ball with a club just right among some of the best scenery nature has to offer, as my dad often did.

As unqualified as I was to be at the tournament, I’m grateful I got the chance to connect with the love of golf in my DNA, and I would jump at the chance to go again. Maybe I’ll buy tickets for the next three years of the fall tournament held at Black Desert or the LPGA tour the resort will host in May.

There are far worse ways to spend a Saturday. Plus, I bought a golf vest at the pro shop so I’m prepared.