The first workshop I ever led was to Death Valley. The travel agent, who had set it all up and who was to travel with me, making sure all went well on her end, called me the night before to say she couldn't make it, but that "you'll do fine." Sure. Me and a busload of 28 photographers.
At sunrise we were all out at the sand dunes, doing our thing. Everybody got back on the bus when they were supposed to. Except for Norm. Where was Norm? I looked out the window, saw a speck on top of the tallest dune. That was Norm. That was the day my hair began turning grey.