Word: downstreams
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Rebounding from last week's defeat at the hands of Boston University, the lights came back, aided by a tailwind and a strong downstream current, to cross the finish line in a strong 5:22.0, a convincing 5.4 seconds before Williams, their closest competitor...
...foot dropoff. The way over was worse than a tightrope. There were gaps between rocks that had to be jumped. One slip and that would be it, you would be swept over the edge. Nor was there any way to search for a crossing up- or downstream. There were too many rocks to climb to even attempt to look. Which left the cliff crossing: impossible...
...miles gone and you're heading into that Eliot turn. Remember the heart attacks you had as a freshman cox, how you hated practice upstream because you couldn't make that turn going downstream, how the coach yelled as you drifted into the center of the river? Well, now imagine all those coxswains who didn't grow up on the Charles, and they're seeing that turn for the first time. And freaking. And spilling over the buoys into your course. Hold your water, yell at them, and put your port oars over the buoys. Don't miss...
...threatened to end this reign. Flushed with their success in quintupling the price of petroleum, the OPEC countries were about to nationalize their oilfields, which would strip the Sisters of ownership of much of their crude reserves. Some governments talked aggressively of also muscling in on the companies' "downstream" refining and marketing operations. In the consuming countries, meanwhile, the Sisters faced painful marketing adjustments brought on by high prices and, in the U.S., a strong congressional drive to bust the oil majors into many smaller pieces. Worst of all, the companies seemed trapped in an over-the-hill business...
...white, it thunders past spray-shined boulders, foaming pools, in a long rocky chute of broken rapids. In the cold breath of the torrent, the dry air is softened by mist; this water trickled through the snow under last night's stars. At the head of the waterfall, downstream, its sparkle leaps into the air, leaps at the sun, and sunrays are tumbled in the luminescent waves that dance against the snows of southern mountains. Upstream, in the inner canyon, dark silences are deepened by the roar of stones. Something is listening, and I listen...