Ode to Our Western River Guides

We have just returned from a great adventure: rafting down the Colorado River through the Grand Canyon for six days.  This is the first post of many to document that unique event on which we were accompanied by oh-so-interesting people.  The trip coincided with my birthday…a celebration I will never forget!


Ode to Our Western River Guides

There once were four great guides in a gorge

All down the Colorado they forged

Over the rapids we pitched

On every fire line we bitched

But each of them joked and encouraged


The leader of the pack was called Mark

To his every word we all did hark

He was tall and stoic

His grilling heroic

He led us through the national park


And on J6 was Scott the singer

He was the entertainment ringer

After all the chicken shells

Set up, break down, dinner bells

Someday in Nashville he will linger


The captain of nineteen was the Shad

Many tales both true and ‘un’ he had

A few words were bologna

But he knew schist from tuna

And all his stories made us so glad


The first mate on nineteen was Travis

He’s back on the river, no novice

He had to carry our crap

Both to the bushes and back

But his jokes delighted all of us


For a vacation Jason had hope

But the rest of the crew said, “Oh, nope”

Driving boats he was not able

He sat up and broke down tables

Still he ran rocks like a mountain goat


The crew treated us as queens and kings

They told us of rocks and other things

Riding the waves like demons wild

Cooking our meals like Julia Child

WR boys show all the canyon brings


There once were four guys in a canyon

Rafting along as close companions

They worked from day break to night

To ensure our trip was right

And we salute them as our champions