Heading south and north

When the offer first arrived, I laughed.
Four days on a bus through southern Utah?
Please.
I like my freedom and my grandkids and my comfortable bed.
I like my husband and spending the evenings with him.
So why would I want to sign myself over to strangers who will tell me where to be and when?
But the offer was a good one.
The Utah Office of Tourism would pay for everything and take me to all kinds of places that would offer up story ideas.
I could coast along on their dime and see the canyons, the tiny towns and Indian petroglyphs.
I decided I would join them for one day...in Manti.
Then I got to looking at the agenda for Tuesday...hmmm, historic Panguitch?
That's where my father grew up and I had no idea the town has an historic district...that'd be worth seeing what they came up with.
Then I realized if I stayed through till Thursday, I could interview a guy who's retiring from the Springville Art Musuem on my way back.
That left Monday.
Originally, Marc was going to drive me all the way down to St. George to catch up with the bus. (That seemed a better option than me driving down and leaving a car.)
Then I got the marching orders and it seems the bus would be leaving Monday morning from Salt Lake. That's much more gas-efficient to meet the bus at the Rio Grande Depot 40 miles from home than to drive down to St. George and back for nothing.
So tomorrow I join the happy troupe.
I've gone from "No, thank you," to "Ready or not, here I come!"
Wish me luck.