How to Force Close Just One Tab in Chrome. There are two kinds of people in this world impossibly organized saints. Sign in to see reasons why you may or may not like this based on your games, friends, and curators you follow. Sign in or Open in SteamPrice Freehttp hIDSERP,5131. How does an autoclave work Explain that StuffAn easytounderstand explanation of how autoclaves sterilize things using hot, highpressure steam. The Victoria steam cabinet combines its elegant contemporary finish with solid wooden shelving, hydromassage jets and overhead rainfall shower with a fully. Find out how steam trains work with Peters Railway. Diagrams, facts and stories all combined in one. Free story download and books available to buy. Chrome at any given time. Sure, keeping all those tabs open is its own kind of organizationIm saving this to read later, I need that open for referencebut when one of those pages becomes unresponsive and we need to force quit Chrome, the whole house of cards comes crashing down. Its important to know how to force quit a frozen program, but even better, when it comes to Chrome, is to quit just the single unresponsive page, and Make Use Of has the trick Figure out which tab is frozen and make sure its not just loading very slowly. Then open Chromes Task Manager from the Window menu up top to see all of the processestabs and extensionsthat Chrome is running. Click on the tab you want to kill, and then click End Process. Why Does Steam In Bursts' title='Why Does Steam In Bursts' />Et voil Though maybe next time, if you refuse the call to close your tabs, try something like the One. Tab extension to help keep your tab habit a little more under control. Feature Articles National Geographic Magazine. The wind slams into me, and I desperately grip my ice axes to keep from being ripped off the mountain face. I push my head against the snow, calm myself, and look down. Beneath my crampons is a 5,0. Its like looking down from the open door of an airplane. I am roped to my two companions, with nothing attaching us to the mountain. A fall here would send all three of us plummeting to our death. When the wind subsides, I pound an aluminum stake into the snow and clip the rope to it. It wouldnt hold if I were to fall but gives me enough psychological comfort to continue. I concentrate, methodically swinging my ice tools and kicking my crampons. Why Does Steam In Bursts' title='Why Does Steam In Bursts' />At a rock rampart I place an anchor and belay my partners, Cory Richards and Renan Ozturk, across the chasm. Nice lead, dude Cory shouts above the roar of the wind when he arrives. He climbs onward, slanting left, searching for a passage up through the granite and snow. When Renan reaches me, there is no room on my ledge, so he traverses out to his own perch. Cory carefully tiptoes the teeth of his crampons along a thin ledge above us and disappears from sight. Renan and I wait, hunched against the wind. We stomp our feet and painfully slap our gloved hands. We are too far apart to talk. We just stand there, together but alone, on the side of the snow plastered cliff more than three miles in the sky. After a half hour we begin to freeze. After an hour we can no longer feel our fingers or toes. I cant take it anymore, Renan yells through his frozen beard. Why Does Steam In Bursts' title='Why Does Steam In Bursts' />My feet are gone. I have to start moving. We dont know what Cory is doing above us, but were so cold it doesnt matter. Renan starts climbing, then I follow. Were all still roped together, so its crucial that none of us fall. The rope is supposed to be secured to the mountain to catch a fall, but mortal predicaments like this happen often in mountaineering. When there are no good anchors, your partners become your anchors, physically and emotionally. You must trust your life to their judgment and ability, and they entrust their lives to yours. This is the code of the mountains. Stretched to the limit, the teamwhich included left to right videographer Renan Ozturk, author Mark Jenkins, photographer Cory Richards, climber Emily Harrington, and expedition leader Hilaree ONeillbegan running low on food on the hike out. None of us anticipated wed get that strung out, says Cory. Renan and I halt in a small rock recess overlooking the north face of the mountain. Through blowing spindrift we can see Cory traversing another expanse of snow. It is too dangerous for Renan and me to keep moving. Again, we must wait. We huddle close, but were still freezing. The wind swirls around our bodies, howling and biting at us like invisible hyenas. My feet are turnaround cold, Renan says. What he means is that theyre close to frostbite. I wonder, for at least the tenth time on this expedition, whether this is the end of our quest to climb the highest peak in Myanmara journey that has pushed us to our physical and emotional limits. Far below us on the mountain, our other team members are pulling for us in spirit. Our base camp manager, Taylor Rees, is at the foot of the mountain. The previous day we left Hilaree ONeill and Emily Harrington at camp 3, a tent nested on a snowy ridgeline, where our weary team had a bitter argument over who would try for the summit. I tell Renan to take off his boots and place his feet underneath my down parka, against my chest. He has socks on, and my chest isnt exactly a furnace, but its the best we can do. When Cory makes his way around a rock buttress, we start moving. An hour passes before we finally regroup on a thin ledge. Our immediate goal remains far above usthe crest of the west ridge, glistening like the edge of a sword. My lead, Renan says. He begins climbing, woodenly kicking his crampons into the snow. He disappears into the sun. The rope tightens, and Cory takes off. After he vanishes, I follow. When I reach the ridge and push my ice crusted face into the sun, its like poking my head into heaven. The sudden warmth renews my hope. I pull my body onto the ridge, and a blanket of sunlight envelops me. After the dark, soul sucking cold of the north face, it feels like rebirth. Renan and Cory have dropped over the ridge to get out of the wind and discovered a stone platform hanging above the south face. The sun is spread over the rock like honey. Lunch ledge I bellow, christening our aerie. Within minutes Ive got our tiny stove roaring. Renan takes off his boots and begins rubbing his toes. Cory gets out his camera and begins snapping pictures. After more than a week of climbing, this is the first time we can actually see the summit a steep, shining pyramid of snow. But we can also see what we have left to climb a menacing, serrated ridge of rock and snow, guarded by a dozen dagger like pinnacles. NGM MapsLets do an old school adventure, Hilaree had said, an expedition to someplace still remote and unknown. It was the spring of 2. Mount Everest. Hilaree is the toughest woman Ive ever met. After summiting Everest, she climbed its neighbor, Lhotse, with two torn ligaments in her ankle. We had a lot in common. Both of us had grown up loving mountains. We were both married with two kids and trying to find a way to balance family life with expeditions. And we were both disillusioned by Everests commercialism and crowds. We needed to get back to what made us climbers to begin with. But finding someplace truly remote is tricky. A plane will take you to the North or South Pole, you can hop a helicopter to the base camp of Everest or Makalu, tourist boats cruise the Nile and the Amazon. Dylan Dog 300 Cbr Torrent more. Real remotenesssomewhere that requires days or even weeks of walking just to reachhas almost vanished from Earth. And yet I knew a place, a mountain that had long held me in its thrall. But because of my private history with it, I was reluctant to say anything. Eventually, after bouncing ideas back and forthPakistan, Papua New Guinea, Kazakhstanmy enthusiasm got the best of me. What about, I hesitated, Hkakabo RaziHkakabo Razi pronounced KA kuh bo RAH zee is said to be the highest peak in Southeast Asia. It is a jagged massif of black rock and white glaciers that rises improbably out of the steaming green jungles of northern Myanmar. Located just beyond the eastern edge of the Himalaya, on the border with Tibet, it was first measured by a British survey published in 1. It is a peak so remote, few climbers have heard of it even today. Getting to the mountain would require a two week trek through dense jungle riven with plunging gorges and inhabited by venomous snakes. Hilaree was hooked immediately. We were planning our expedition before we left Kathmandu. I had learned of Hkakabo in the 1. I picked up a yellowed copy of Burmas Icy Mountains by British explorer Francis Kingdon Ward. It described his 1. Hkakabo Razi solo. He reached almost 1. The Rawang were not immune to the vagaries of the jungle. A toddler was brought to us with infected insect bites. A tribal elder told me, Everyone here either gets better on their own or dies. Kingdon Wards powers, as I learned from reading his many other books, were protean. A brilliant botanist, lyrical writer, indefatigable plant hunter, and purportedly a British spy, Kingdon Ward was one of those hard as iron adventurers in the mold of polar voyager Roald Amundsen or Amazonian explorer Percy Fawcett.