Through Arizona’s sun and Utah’s red stone,
We wandered wide canyons, far from home.
Twenty-six souls on one rolling quest,
With three Bobs, two Dougs — all of us blessed.
Jake led the charge with a mic in hand,
Cracking bad jokes that we could barely stand
Rob steered us steady through dust and through rain,
On our comfortable coach, through beautiful terrain.
We were awe inspired by the canyon Grand
And flew over native Indian land.
Sailing Lake Powell was quite a delight
With a rainbow and sunset to end the night.
We bumped along in trucks with no sides to spare,
holding on tight through desert air
to visit a slot canyon so narrow and tall
With Indian flute music enjoyed by all.
Bryce Canyon’s spires, in morning light,
Painted the sky in orange and white.
Zion rose mighty, cliffs carved in pride,
Where history and stillness forever reside.
Games of trivia challenged us all
Jake and Rob made the long rides a ball!
And as the sun set with golden gleams,
We were gifted dreamcatchers to catch our dreams.
From laughter to silence, each moment divine,
Etched in our hearts, for the rest of time.
So here’s to the jokes, the rocks, the skies —
To memories made where the condor flies.
No trip quite like it, little time to rest,
From Phoenix to Vegas, Tauck is the best!
