Yes, if you were wondering, I do sometimes exercise the license allowed every storyteller. I exaggerate a bit from time to time. Or maybe it’s just that I fall in love with a turn of phrase, even if it’s not exactly apposite.
But as my brother reminded me, there are photographs of our long-ago canoe-camping trip on the White River in Utah, so with respect to one of the descriptions in a recent post, judge for yourself:
Of course, the area of Utah in which my younger son is sleeping at this very moment, warmly bundled (I hope) in his bag, his gimpy ankle (I hope) having thus far supported his 165-pound body plus 60-pound backpack, is somewhat more impressive.