Word: canyoneering
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...Lockheed in Orange County, California, lets drivers pay without stopping. Radio receivers pick up signals from dashboard-mounted cards as vehicles zip through toll lanes. The fees are deducted directly from the drivers' bank accounts. Says Bob Bess, a customer-service representative who lives in Trabuco Canyon, California: "It's kind of fun to whiz by at 60 miles an hour while others are waiting in line...
While his judicial philosophy changed over the years, his personality did not. Amid the pomp and majesty of the court, he remained a modest and unassuming man. He lived with his wife of 53 years, Dottie, in a modest apartment in the unfashionable high-rise canyon of Rosslyn, Virginia, and drove an old blue Volkswagen to work most of his days. His only eccentricity has been his absolute devotion to routine. One egg, toast and coffee every morning at 8 a.m. in the court cafeteria with his clerks; a four-block walk around the building at lunchtime, along with...
Consider a student leaving the Yard at Widener Gate. He must wade through a sea of slush on each side of Mass. Ave. Having reached the side-walk, he heads for the river. Part way down Plympton St., he finds himself in a canyon four feet deep. The snow has not been shoveled or plowed; he has to walk on a tiny strip of packed snow and slush. The sidewalk is nowhere to be seen. Two people can't pass unless one scales the snowbank and perches on a parking meter...
...this island's north shore, the Salt River Bay National Historical Park and Ecological Preserve has the largest remaining mangrove forest in the Virgin Islands. The park harbors a wide variety of endangered flora and fauna, including giant swamp ferns and bottle-nosed dolphins, and includes an underwater canyon filled with coral reefs, caves and grottoes, open to scuba divers. Camping is not allowed on park grounds, but travelers can stay at hotels in the nearby town of Christiansted...
...center of town had barely been saved; the remains of Sean Penn's $4 million home were not yet cool; 75-ft. flames were still roaring through the canyon when Ron Ablott's men hit the charred hills above Malibu. Crawling on their hands and knees, occasionally slipping a minuscule piece of ash into a plastic bag, they obviously belonged there. But unlike thousands of public employees battling the conflagration below, they were not concerned with fighting fires, at least not any burning currently. They were engaged in a manhunt...