As I meandered out of my hotel room into the lobby on Tuesday morning, I crossed paths with none other than Tim Samaras, yet ANOTHER renowed storm chaser. Later that morning in the parking lot, we actually got to shake his hand and shoot the breeze (no pun intended) about the week's action. I'm still trying to comprehend the fact that I've met so many leaders in the field this week.
The day is looking far calmer than Monday, according to forecasts. The only real shot at supercellular activity will be found in west Oklahoma. If anything does fire, it will be a single isolated cell, and enough ingredients will be in place for it to really explode.
But not until late afternoon/evening. In the meantime, we tour the damage caused by the tornadoes that ripped through Norman and Shawnee the day before. Trees down, powerline poles snapped, roofs covered in blue tarp...it's a sad sight to see. A Love's gas station west of Shawnee takes the blue ribbon as the most sobering sight:
Someone later told us that, moments before the tornado hit, around 30 people had been wandering in the store or near the gas pumps. A trucker, aware of the situation, pulled in and urged everyone to take cover. Everyone piled into the store's cooler/freezer, and as a result, all were unharmed.
After lunch at Applebee's (again), we cruise to Elk City in western Oklahoma and wait for the action to begin. A strong cap, or layer of warm, dry air, is hindering convective development. But we're patient: sooner or later, one of these storms is bound to explode. Sure enough, we drive southward and find a supercell in the beginning stages of development:
We spot all of the classic features of a supercell: cloud base, striations, anvil, small hail core. Even mammatus clouds begin to form faintly on the underside of the anvil:
Oddly, this is about as advanced as the storm gets. Just as the storm is severe-warned, it begins to fall apart and is replaced by blue skies in under a half-hour. This confuses all of us, even our meteorologist Dave. Just goes to show we still have a lot to learn.
It's pretty late in the day now, about 7pm, and we're starting to run low on daylight. If we're going to see anything, it had better fire quickly. A cluster of storms begin to form north of us by about 40 miles. Our next target. Luckily, these storms are plodding along at about 20 mph -- a far cry from Monday's storms, which raced at over 70 mph, too fast to catch.
We cross paths with Reed and the Dominator, and follow them into back roads southeast of Woodward. And when I say back roads, I mean BACK roads:
After maybe 15 minutes, we find a clearing at the top of a hill, just southeast of the storm, with no signs of civilization around. The PERFECT vantage point for watching a tornado...if only the darn thing would drop:
Can you imagine? A dark funnel descending from the heavens, backlit by twilight? Alas, it didn't happen, and soon, it's too dark to keep the chase alive. So close.
We're behind Reed and the Dominator still, and we are forced to lag behind as they wrap up shooting with the Discovery Channel. (I observed what happened from afar and am in-the-know on some storylines for the show Storm Chasers. But the Discovery Channel crew are pretty serious, and I rather enjoy living, so I better not divulge the details.) Afterwards, we have just enough energy for one last pose before we make the three-hour drive back to Oklahoma City:
After one last midnight meal at Denny's, Klipsi traces a famous line from the movie Twister in the back window of our dust-covered van (these guys were quoting Twister ALL WEEK LONG):
Fitting, since our last tornado never actually did touch the ground.
This whole expedition has been nothing short of amazing, especially after the action started on Monday. I can now proudly say that I HAVE done something crazy in my life...a dozen years ahead of Ray Kinsella. But this has, predictably, developed a strong hunger in me to keep this insanity going. Returning to normal life has been somewhat of a rude awakening, and not just because I was returning from a vacation.
I HAVE to do this again...and next time I can do so more knowledgeably. Mark my words, one day I will chase on my own.
And if a tornado is barreling towards me, I WON'T have locked my keys in my car.
3 comments:
Josh this series was amasing and you write really well. Thanks for sharing.
Thanks for reading! It was a thrill just to write about it...the fact that someone actually read it is icing on the cake.
Tornadoes are just the best thrill aren't they? I used to live at the top of tornado alley and after my first five I was like "Eeeh, it's not tracking this way so let's just keep goin'" If you want something even more beautiful, watch the Great Lakes during tornado season, waterspouts are way prettier. I couldn't even imagine that color purple until I saw it stretched miles above me and coming straight for me. Lot less damage too.
I look forward to more entertaining posts! I'm just one blog over so that's how I got here! See ya!
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