JoshCast #34 - Hard Sun

I like to think that my musical tastes are relatively expansive, but I've found in the last decade that I inevitably circle back to the same three musicians: Dave Matthews Band, Ryan Adams (not to be confused with Bryan Adams), and grunge legends Pearl Jam.

I still remember many, many years ago, when I was but a wee sophomore in high school, I bought Ten, their '91 release that skyrocketed them to never-ending fame. A number of weeks later, my mom confronted me, worried that my purchase was a sign that I was perhaps turning, um, rambunctious. I guess they did have that sort of reputation, but I allayed her fears when I showed her they weren't just a bunch of hardcore, screaming hairbangers -- although, yes, they do that pretty damn well, too. (I also had a Rage Against The Machine album which she should've been more worried about, but luckily, that was glossed over.) In fact, they're musical talents are so very well-rounded: from the wildly popular "Alive" to the little-known gem "Cropduster" to the far more subdued and heartfelt "Gone".


Leadman Eddie Vedder's involvement in the 2007 movie Into The Wild is just the latest of his impressive efforts, exemplified by the following song, "Hard Sun", which remarkably fits the expansive wilderness setting of the majority of the movie. Hope you like it as much as I do:

Lighting It Up

As you might've surmised from my lack of posts after my cliffhanger that concluded my last storm chasing series......nothing really happened. Figured I'd save you the anticlimax. Probably the most interesting thing that happened was a late-night stop at an Applebee's (of course) in Fort Smith, Arkansas. Luckily, we had some profoundly hilarious karaoke to accompany us as we scarfed down our Fiesta Lime Chicken for the third time in a week.

But before I bring this year's storm chasing saga to an end, here's a little plug for our team, ExtremeVorticity.com. (We figured as long we threw the word "Extreme" in there, we'd be all set.) As a squall line moved through the DFW area this past Monday night, the fellas got some unreal lightning photos. First, courtesy of Russ Contreras:


And second, from our frontman Scott MacArthur:


Cheers, guys! I'd say y'all have cruised right on past me as far as photographic talent goes.

Down And (Not) Out

I'm still in utter disbelief about my Mavs' playoff run. Overcame a demoralizing 22-point blown lead against Portland. Swept Kobe the hated Lakers right off the Staples Center and AAC floor. Dirk's legendary performances against Oklahoma City. And now this in Game 2 of the Finals against the uber-arrogant Miami Heat??

Twice during this postseason, I've turned the game off, assuming that a 15-point lead in the middle of the fourth quarter was too much for Dallas to overcome. Both times they stormed back to win. Crazy. All I can say now is that I sure hope that the euphoria I felt after observing the following in Game 2 of the Finals is exceeded by a series win...and a championship.

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.

Symmetry

Remember how I said in my last post that Sunday’s drive was the Exhibit A symbolizing the exhaustion and unpredictability of the storm chaser’s life?

Monday -- which turned out to be an incredibly eventful day -- was Exhibit B. Allow me to explain, in convenient timeline format!

7:12am: We depart our motel in Sterling, CO, after five hours’ sleep. Destination? Rapid City, South Dakota, to pick up two-fifths of our chasing crew. And of course, the whole reason we diverted Caryn and Barb to South Dakota instead of our DFW home -- the potential for an outbreak in South Dakota -- lies in the back of our minds. The Storm Prediction Center, though, downgraded the day just a little bit, showing a much smaller chance of tornadoes (below). We remain optimistic: they’re right a lot, but they’re wrong a lot, too. And we didn’t just drive 1000 miles for nothing.


8:01am: We cross into Nebraska. I’m reminded of the episode of South Park when the kids cross the Colorado/Nebraska state line, and a sign that says, “You’re In Nebraska. We’re sorry.” greets them. It’s like the Sahara, but with dead grass:


8:47am: We cruise through a tiny town called Gurley, Nebraska. Funny on its own, but even more hilarious when we see a water tower touting their high school mascot, the Warriors. Yes. That’s right. The Gurley Warriors.

10:57am: Getting closer to the Rapid City airport, and we find out that Caryn’s arrival is in serious jeopardy. Her first flight delayed, it’s unlikely that she’ll make her connecting flight in Chicago O’Hare. Bummer.

11:28am: By a stroke of luck, her connecting flight is delayed, too. She runs from terminal to terminal through O’Hare, arriving at her plane with about 17 seconds to spare. She’s now due to arrive only a half-hour late, and Barb is set to land on time. To quote Caryn, “Groovy!”

12:41pm: With a little time to kill, we decide to pay a visit to Mount Rushmore, only a little ways off of our Rapid City-bound route. Winding through the neighboring Custer State Park, and spot a herd of lazy buffalo:


Followed by a stone carving of some familiar faces, framed by a one-lane tunnel carved out of a giant boulder:


Nice.

2:20pm: We pick up Caryn and Barb at Rapid City. The crew is here! The bad news: Caryn’s baggage is not. Uh oh. We’ll deal with that later; it’s looking like action is going to start brewing near Pierre, South Dakota. Onward.

5:23pm: All that anticipation, all for naught. We hang out at a gas station near Belvidere, SD, spending a substantial amount of time throwing a football on a gravel parking lot, waiting for something -- anything -- to happen. We run into some fellow chasers, and we agree that the day is probably toast. Not a cloud in the sky. Almost all the necessary ingredients are there, but there’s just not enough heat where we are to spark anything.

Bummer. All that effort to get to drive a thousand miles and divert planes and lost luggage...for nothing?? We need beer.

But first, we hear that the tour company we used last year, along with Storm Chasers star Reed Timmer, etc., are in a neighboring town, also feeling sorry for themselves. We decide to drop say hey.

6:34pm: Now in a little town called Murdo, we run into Reed’s crew and spot our buddy Dave Holder leading the tour group again this year. Cruising in a new van (they needed it), they haven’t seen a whole lot this week. Like us, they’re getting ready for the impending outbreak predicted for Wednesday. Among other amenities, their van boasts an over-the-top paint job. And guess who’s silhouette is on the back of their van?


Yep, that studly shadow, the guy on the right, is me.

After chatting with the crew for a while, we head south, planning another long drive to Salina, Kansas.

8:26pm: One Bud Light and barbecue hoagie later, we check the weather, and are shocked to see three tornado warned cells have spawned near Rapid City. You know, where we were only 6 hours before. Rather than wait for the storm that might be there tomorrow, we decide to fly 2 hours west and catch the storm that exists today.

Around now, times began to get hazy, so I’ll abandon the timeline format from here...

We stop about 20 miles from the storm -- near the Nebraska/South Dakota border -- and get out of our Expedition for some amazing lightning shots. Seriously, there was a lightning strike about 5 times per second, certainly rivaling the most amazing display of nature I’ve ever seen. Example, though this doesn’t begin to do it justice:

[pic unavailable]

Unsatisfied, we cruise closer, perhaps 5 miles south of the storm, and see this amazing storm structure. That plume you see illuminated by lightning is called an “updraft tower”, which feeds moisture into the storm. If a tornado were to exist, it would be at the base of that plume:


Finally, still not quite satisfied, we rendezvous with the circulation (it’s still tornado-warned at this time), and get within a half-mile of the wall cloud/funnel cloud. This is just unreal:


It’s amazing: yesterday was starting to look just like the day before (15 hours’ driving), but ended up almost exactly reproducing our first chase day last year: disappointment, followed by the realization that something was going to happen while sitting in a restaurant, followed by a chase into the night of a low-level circulation illuminated by lightning. The symmetry was uncanny.

Thankfully, Tuesday will be a day of semi-rest, driving back southward through Nebraska and preparing for the outbreak on Wednesday. Here’s what SPC shows for tomorrow’s event:


That 45%? Kind of rare. Not high-risk rare probably, but still very promising. A prominent quote in a foreign movie I saw recently describes the anticipation felt by storm chasers everywhere: “Create excitement!”