I receive daily posts from Alaska (don't ask me why), where life holds perils that most of us never face. In our namby-pamby tri-state areas, skiers are rarely engulfed in avalanches or joggers eaten by wolves.
In Alaska nature looms. Names have a blunt, descriptive power. How about this river where two boaters tragically drowned:
Call me lily-livered. But getting me to venture onto a body of water called Dangerous River would require considerable urging from a Colt .45.