Word: mapped
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...Erik scramble up a rock face is a little like watching a spider make its way up a wall. His hands are like antennae, gathering information as they flick outward, surveying the rock for cracks, grooves, bowls, nubbins, knobs, edges and ledges, converting all of it into a road map etched into his mind. "It's like instead of wrestling with a person, I am moving and working with a rock," he explains. "It's a beautiful process of solving a puzzle." He is an accomplished rock climber, rated 5.10 (5.14 being the highest), and has led teams up sections...
...Erik scramble up a rock face is a little like watching a spider make its way up a wall. His hands are like antennae, gathering information as they flick outward, surveying the rock for cracks, grooves, bowls, nubbins, knobs, edges and ledges, converting all of it into a road map etched into his mind. "It's like instead of wrestling with a person, I am moving and working with a rock," he explains. "It's a beautiful process of solving a puzzle." He is an accomplished rock climber, rated 5.10 (5.14 being the highest), and has led teams up sections...
...warmest of directorial styles; Kubrick's is among the coolest. One aims to seduce the audience; the other wanted to bend moviegoers to see it his way, or to hell with them. The resulting fugue is like a piece composed for brass but played on woodwinds, a Death Valley map on which Spielberg has placed seeds, hoping they will somehow blossom...
...imaging device, the cops were able to get a search warrant, go into Kyllo's home and find that he was growing about 100 marijuana plants in a room above the garage, under high-intensity lamps. In previous decisions dealing with this technology, courts have been all over the map. Scalia put a stop to that...
...border was a place near Mexico, where I was born. For my children, the border may turn out to be on a different map entirely. I grew up on the South Side of Chicago in a neighborhood that was multiculti way before being multiculti was the thing. Every weekend when I was a child, all six of us in my family would shuttle from our spacious, airy apartment in Hyde Park to the overcrowded, bustling barrio of Pilsen, where Mami would buy carnitas, chicharron and, of course, fresh corn tortillas carefully wrapped in paper, all soft and steaming...