Bust

At the risk of sounding like a broken record, I’m constantly amazed at what a crap shoot storm chasing actually is. The virtual guarantee of tornadic activity in western Oklahoma/Kansas yesterday was quickly and decisively dashed by a wave of rain passing through the area the night before. Morale obviously took a sharp downhill turn. When an event doesn’t pan out during a week’s chase (like South Dakota earlier in the week), it’s nice to have the safety net of knowing a bigger and better event is yet to come.

Alas, we now do not have that luxury.

Tuesday was a travel day: we escaped the black hole of flatness and boredom that is Nebraska for greener, modestly hillier pastures in Kansas. Not only that, but I got to drive our tank on a mini-chase near Wichita, in which we experienced a nice little gust front and shelf cloud. Our truck may not be as hardcore as Reed’s Dominator or Sean Casey’s TIV, but it holds its own through a hailstorm (Hypothetically, anyway. We haven’t really experienced any hail to give its hail rack a trial run).

We chill at an Applebee’s in Wichita that night, speculating about Wednesday. We’re so confident that we discuss not whether we’ll see a tornado, but rather the number and size of the twisters we will catch. Quelling the Christmas Eve-like excitement we’re feeling, we nod off and get a good night’s sleep, ready for the promise of Wednesday’s chase.

Then we wake up to a harsh reality.

Overnight, a large swath of rain and thunderstorms crept up from Texas through Oklahoma. Seems fairly innocuous, but the problems are twofold: all the rain cooled the surrounding areas considerably, and the storms also began cutting off all of the southerly winds from the Gulf of Mexico. As a result, our target area has now become much cooler and slightly drier, limiting the atmospheric instability needed for severe weather.

It’s not a total loss at this point, because a potent upper-level trough has moved into the area. At least we have that going for us, but if we don’t have enough instability, it’s just not going to have the firepower. Like trying to shoot an assault rifle using grains of sand.

Scott commented later that all us chasers had this reality in the back of our minds, but you always have hope. Often times, unlikely chase days yield a lone, monster supercell. Lots of other chasers apparently had hope, too, because we ran into them everywhere in Pratt, Kansas (it’s about 11:30am when we arrive there). We drove right past Sean Casey’s TIV, and then parked across the street again from Reed’s Dominator.

One storm chaser married couple (Aww!) in an old Chevy Blazer from Illinois stopped to chat with us for a bit. Reed’s rivals have described his Dominator as a “big red shoe”, but I like the Illinois guy’s description better, when he bellowed under his Ron Swanson-like moustache, “Look at that thang! It’s like a PT Cruiser on some kind of messed-up steroid.”

2:34pm – We leave Pratt behind in favor of Greensburg, Kansas, and we get clocked by a giant tumbleweed. Our steel-nerved driver, Jon, remains unfazed.

2:46pm – Greensburg, Kansas, is quite the inspirational town.


Having been virtually destroyed four years ago by a mile-wide EF-5 tornado, the rebuilding process is well underway, and the reconstructive efforts have a special emphasis placed on green technology. Streamlined architecture, wind power, and the like. It’s shocking to drive through and see the shaved trees and stripped foundations. The gas station folks give us the stinkeye, as we detect a little animosity directed towards the storm chasing community. Understandable.

The wood sculpture below in particular symbolizes the town’s resiliency. It’s a guy with a cowboy hat riding a tornado: a beacon of pride and an homage to the movie Dr. Strangelove:


3:46pm – We’re starting to see towers go up in the distance, but many chasers have begun heading west. Later, we find that they’re after a new target: a warm front near the Kansas/Nebraska border. And oh, by the way, tornadoes are also happening in Nebraska and Iowa. Nonetheless, we remain skeptically confident that our dryline scenario will shape up here in the next few hours. Trying to get zen on our side, we occasionally chant the mantra, “Patience, young grasshopper.”

After some indecision, we finally choose to drift west, as a cell seems to be starting to grow.

5:13pm – We’ve been following the cell north towards Ness City, and it actually looks kinda nice. A skinny base develops just to our west:


But it quickly dies. That atmospheric instability problem is coming back to haunt us. As a last gasp, we choose to fly northward towards the warm front. There’s certainly WAY more action up that way.

7:36pm – Right around now, we stop for gas in Moxie, Kansas, and the reality begins to set in that this is not going to happen. The warm front is outrunning us, and nothing is really looking that promising anyway. This chase is a bust. Our spirits crushed, we depart east.

8:59pm – We see a sign for a Dairy Queen and decide to stop there for a hearty burger or chicken fried steak sandwich or something besides gas station sunflower seeds and Bugles. When we arrive, we find out all they serve is ice cream and hot dogs. And oh, by the way, Caryn STILL hasn't tracked down her luggage. NOTHING is going our way. Eventually, we chill at a Pizza Hut in Hays and watch the OKC Thunder beat down the Memphis Grizzlies. (Winner plays my Mavs, so you know why I’m watching.)

11:49pm – Arrive in Salina, KS. Forecast looks slightly promising in southeast Oklahoma. Everyone else is too depressed from Wednesday’s epic letdown to chase Thursday, but we Extreme Vorticity team members are hearty folk.

We’re gonna find something.

Stay tuned.