This topic was posted , thanks algore.
Posted on 06/13/2021 12:27:55 PM PDT by algore
Fascinating. It is the turbidite flow we look for in oil and gas.
In the video they are laying a pipeline thru a area that had a huge landslide back in the last ice age.
Constructing The World’s Longest Subsea Pipeline
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m-LbbNP58nk
Ormen Lange (gas field)
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ormen_Lange_(gas_field)
BTW if you click on the Subscribe button and then add the Youtube app to your ROKU box you can watch all these great videos on your tv set. I watch more and more video from Youtube then any regular tv station now.
This topic was posted , thanks algore.
I’m reminded of a scary km/mi per hour incident in my flaming youth. I was on the back of a Harley in Mexico roaring down a long hill. I looked over the drivers shoulder at the speedomiter and screamed, “My God we’re going 160 miles per hour.” Then I realized it was Kilometers and screamed, “My God we’re going 100 miles an hour.” Actually the worst part of that trip was the ride back through an 8,000 foot high pass in the pouring rain with inadequate rain gear. When we got back to Mexico City, my friend had to pry my hypothermic paralyzed fingers open so I could get off the bike.
Actually, if you are not doing precise measurements, it is pretty easy to do rough calculations. A meter is a little more than a yard, there are 2.5 centimeters in an inch, and there are 8 kilomters in 5 miles. However if you use the wrong kind of measure in planning the landing from a space vehicle to the surface of Mars (I think it was) your unmanned vehicle will crash, and you will loose your job in all likelihood. And just thank God it was unmanned.
Sorry I forgot to ping you for my somewhat amusing comment #24.
Trying to imagine Gleeaikin in her flaming youth, whiteknuckling on the back of a Harley (1500 or 74?) in Mexico, in a downpour, going 160 kph at 2438.4 meters altitude.
Yes, it was a lot more fun on the back of a Vespa in Mexico City in my buffont skirt and high heels. With my friend I met on a field trip to an insane asylum, who was the ward of the British Vice Consul. His parents were dead, his father a Calcutta brain surgeon and his mother an Austrian society woman. One of the finest men I ever dated.
I don’t know if this was a Harley 1500 or 74. It was in either 1958 or 1957 if that helps and it seemed very big compared to my other friend’s Vespa. That was also the year I climbed to within 400 feet of the top of Popocatepetl. The rest of the way was very icy and we had no ropes, so stopped for safety. It had snowed down to 11,000 feet the night before. I used sunscreen but burned badly under my chin and nose. When I went to the school clinic for help the nurse commented, “I see you went with the mountain climbing group, not the Acapulco folks.”
It was my little joke — the 1500 (cc) was the 74 (ci). :^)
:^)
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