The beautiful, isolated Kansas LP cell a couple days earlier had me excited to witness more explosive development on March 16th. MLCAPE values from 2000-2500 j/kg were forecast along the dryline in western Texas with the cap opening up by mid afternoon. With a mid-level impulse yielding up to 50 kts of bulk shear, mid-level lapse rates approaching 8.5 c/km, and directional shear supportive of rotating updrafts, it looked like severe storms were on tap with large hail, and a slight tornado risk as the LLJ strengthened by early evening.
HRRR suggested two areas for convection to break out--near Lubbock and south of Midland. The reflectivity forecast hinted at the southern target being choked off soon after forming, so with a bit of relief at the shorter drive, I targeted the dryline in the vicinity of Lubbock.
As we neared Post, TX, storms were firing along the dryline, and a strong cell south of Midland had gotten the attention of the SPC as severe watch areas went up from southwest Texas to western Oklahoma. Storms near Lubbock were looking good to me, and we targeted a cell that was essentially moving over Lubbock--it soon picked up a severe warning. As we paced the storm and watched it develop while keeping the rental car out of the hail, the storm started to develop inflow bands and what looked like a bobbed beaver tail.
Panorama of severe warned storm near Lubbock, Texas
Rain-free base struggles to get organized while Giselle looks on
Before long though, a flurry of developing storms west and southwest of our storm began interfering with it and with each other until the whole mess essentially disintegrated. The remains of dissolving storms still present great photo opportunities, and we made a few stops on the way back to Elk City to take in the pleasant views.
Another storm with a sturdy inflow tail chokes off our original cell's inflow
Dissipating storms paint the sky for our drive back to Elk City
This day didn't promise to be much of a storm producer. Southwesterly flow aloft was weak--30-35 kts--over a solid cap. However, with instability from 1000-2000 j/kg, 35 kts of bulk shear, and low/mid level SRH around 100 m2/s2, the possibility of a photogenic storm going up had me ready to head out.
By midday, the HRRR model was forecasting convection breaking through the cap along the dryline in the Oklahoma panhandle. Satellite was showing a patchy cumulus field developing along the dryline in the panhandles. So Giselle and I headed out from Elk City to see if something would break through.
As we headed north on 283, we were introduced to the horrible Wireless data coverage of northwest Oklahoma. With no satellite updates to tell us how things were going along the dryline, we kept moving and hoping cloud tops would start to show above the haze. I'm used to the clear, dry air of Arizona where storm bases are visible from 50 or more miles away. So it's frustrating at first to see how quickly visibility drops off on the plains--of course, it's that hazy moisture that makes the storm environment so explosive here.
By the time we approached Shattuck, Oklahoma, we were seeing hints of the dryline cumulus to the west. Some of the cloud heads popping above the haze layer looked like they might be developing cu towers, but it was impossible to tell without seeing whether there was a rising tower beneath the bubbling fringe. After some more driving with that frustrating feeling that the cap might hold everything down, we finally saw some convincing development that egged us onward.
Growing cumulus tower in the north Texas panhandle
While the initial tower collapsed, another congested batch further north on the Kansas-Oklahoma border was holding together.
Congested cumulus near the Kansas-Oklahoma border
We headed for that developing storm, and by the time we reached Englewood, Kansas, it had developed an anvil and was putting on a beautiful display northwest of town.
Developing cell northwest of Englewood, Kansas
As expected, the cell remained elevated for the two hours that we followed it, but the updraft displayed broad rotation and barber pole structure with some limited lightning. Colored by the setting sun, this isolated, mini-LP cell was a beautiful sight as it glided away over the lonely Kansas landscape.
Mini LP Supercell drifts from Englewood to Ashland, Kansas
While visiting family in Elk City, I chased some storms on March 14, 16 and 18, and wound up seeing three tornadoes on the 18th. (I'll post details of the other two chases later).
I made the Sunday chase after a convective shambles in the TX panhandle on March 16. This turned out to be an incredible follow-up. Deciding between better moisture south near the Red River vs. better H5 winds north by the OK panhandle was my biggest challenge as I made my way toward Shamrock, TX on I-40. Based on reliable results with NAM and HRRR forecast models on March 14 and 16, I was relying on them more heavily.
By the time I got to Shamrock, HRRR was forecasting some convection up by the OK panhandle and southwest KS, but it was showing this to be short-lived. The more robust, sustained development was forecast along the dryline west and southwest of Childress and moving into southwest OK. When I got to Shamrock, the cumulus field was congesting along the dryline in agreement with that area proving to be a successful initiation point, so I fueled up, cleaned the windshield and headed south.
As I approached the Red River, towers were going up, and as I moved into Childress, a really nice updraft and anvil were overshadowing the town.
Storm Initiation
Developing Cell Panorama
Following the storm back over the Red River meant either racing the core along Hwy 62 and glomming with an inbound stream of chasers, or taking some side roads over to Rt. 680 just NE of the OK/TX border. I chose 680, and after sledding along several miles of farm road whose last maintenance heralds from before the dust bowl days, I made it to an I-Dare-You type bridge crossing with the storm moving over the OK border just ahead.
Bridge Crossing at the Red River
After cringing at the forbidding screeching noises as I rolled across the bridge, I parked about a mile further north and shot some time lapse video and panorama shots. The lead cell was being hugged by a trailing cell with an incredibly solid hail core. I wondered if this would be like the mess on Friday near Lubbock with each batch of convection being demolished by whatever formed behind or in its inflow. For a while, both cells sported great structure and inflow features, and I couldn't decide what to photograph.
Wall Cloud on Lead Cell
Structure on Trailing Cell
Solid FFD Core on Trailing Cell
Panorama of Both Cells
As I followed at a hail-safe, happy-rental-car distance, the lead cell became dominant and from there, the RFD did all sorts of wonderful things to the updraft base and enclosed wall cloud. From that distance, I was having a hard time resolving details behind the nearly constant precipitation curtain, but rotation had become sustained and it was one great photo op after another with some very tantalizing wall cloud structures emerging periodically through the hazy mists.
RFD Shelf and Wall Cloud Behind Precipitation Curtain
RFD with Rotating Wall Cloud Structure in Background
Structure Panorama
I travelled the smaller county roads as much as possible, which lowered the convergence factor with chaser hordes. I still encountered smaller groups at key intersections and vantage points. This small group was enjoying a perfect RFD donut hole backed by a shaggy wall cloud and tail.
Chaser Audience, RFD Donut Hole and Wall Cloud/Tail Cloud
About the time the tornado warning went up for the storm, I was back on a main road headed north, trying to get in better position when I was passed by law enforcement blazing north with lights flashing. I figured they were getting ready to road block my route, so I started to detour east to find another dicey county road, when a quick check out the side window showed a funnel snaking down (7:04 PM). I squeezed off some still shots, but wasn't in time with the video camera. The slender funnel I saw may have been a small satellite to something bigger happening behind the precipitation curtain--there appears to something ominous going on along the right edge of that rain curtain in the photo.
Satellite Tornado and Rain Wrapped Circulation (7:04 PM)
As I stepped my way north and east, I was awestruck by the incredible structure on this storm. While I wish I could have been closer to view the detail in and around the wall cloud and the tornadoes it spawned, I can't complain in the slightest about the views I got of the entire storm from a few miles away.
More Awesome Structure
As I navigated northward near Granite, OK, I found a high vantage that gave me a view of a second tornado spinning up near Willow, OK (7:30 PM).
Willow Tornado (7:30 PM)
My third for the day spun up a few minutes later at 7:38 PM. This one lasted a couple minutes before the slender rope dissipated.
Third Tornado (7:38 PM)
I followed the storm a bit more as it approached Clinton, but lightning was too sporadic to make out any more features, so I made my way into Elk City for a big steak and fries at Western Sizzlin. Chasing solo, trying to run two cameras and experiencing this unbelievable storm gave me a case of full-blown sensory overload--I'm still having vivid flashbacks. It was a great chase and I can't wait for my next opportunity in the northern plains in June.
Video of Supercell and Tornadoes in Southwest Oklahoma
It's been over 8 months since my May 2011 chase trip, and I finally got around to finishing my reports and photos for the 3,750 mile round trip. This was a tough one for me from a forecast and positioning standpoint. No tornadoes, and only one halfway decent supercell intercept. Everything else was incidental, fringe, weak storm interactions. As frustrating as that was, I have to remind myself of the beautiful things I did witness along the way, and a lot of important lessons learned. I'm taking a cue from Skip Talbot and posting a "Lessons Learned" section at the end of each day's report. I'm looking forward to another chase trip in 2012 and hope I can manage to improve my forecasting and positioning and see some more amazing weather on the plains.
I got on the road Saturday afternoon, left Flagstaff, drove most of the night, and made it to eastern Nebraska by Sunday late afternoon.
I'll try to do a more detailed summary later with more photos. (I'm extremely worn out.)
After checking models and spc discussion each time I stopped to fuel up, I decided I would head to the warm front. Unfortunately, eastern Nebraska turned out to be a wasteland of uncooperative cloud streets. The cap wasn't budging there at all. I figured I was going to have a complete bust on my first day out. But then inhibition started to part in South Dakota, a few storms started to blossom. Most were too far to consider, but a small, fresh one was within reach, so I raced north. As I got closer, I realized the cap had clamped down and nothing was left but an orphan anvil.
I kept going north, just in case, and was suprised by a view of a new tower going up on the other side of the Missouri river, half-lit by the coppery light of the setting sun.
Satellite view showing my target storm as a bright blip in the far south-southeast corner of South Dakota. (Note the only tornado-producing cell in the south-central part of the state--too far out of reach.)
The new tower was farther north than I thought, and was moving north at about 25 knots. I decided not to keep chasing it in the dark, so I broke off, satisfied to see it sputter with lightning as it drifted away. At least I got a distant storm and some lightning for day 1.
I fueled up again and did some supply shopping. Afterward, as I drove to a section of gravel roads south of Mitchell, SD to park for the night, I was overwhelmed by nonstop lightning behind me. I pulled over to figure out where it was coming from. Sprawled out to my west was a huge, sculpted shelf cloud, gaping with rain, wind and lightning--and it was visibly expanding in my direction. I didn't want to get the car golf-balled, so I raced down the dirt roads, going after a good north-south paved road. Along the way, I made some brief stops to photograph this majestic thing.
At one stop alongside a small lake, the sound of katydids, frogs and other nocturnal creatures blended in with the non-stop thunder of the approaching storm. It was wonderful. As I continued south and east, I realized the entire gust front was going to chase me into Missouri if I let it. So I hunkered down in a farm field access and embraced the drenching rain and unceasing lightning. It was an amazing way to end the day.
Radar showing my position with the approaching gust front.
Lessons Learned
Argh. Just play closer to the triple point--don't get creative with points further out along the warm front.
The cap likes to be stronger further south.
A shorter focal length lens would be nice for capturing massive gust fronts and shelf clouds.
After night fall, shut off the car, get outside and enjoy the sights and sounds of lightning, thunder, and wildlife.
Day 1 - MAY 8, 2011 - Night Storms in South Dakota
My second chase day started with the sun's warm rays piercing broken clouds above a nearby farm. I slept a little later than I wanted, but had plenty of time jump on I-90 and head west toward Murdo where I waited for signs of initiation along points further west. This setup was difficult to forecast. The best moisture/instability/shear was wrapping north and northeast of the surface low, north of the warm front. I had a hard time picking the best spot for storm initiation and was really hoping visual cues and satellite would point me toward development with enough time to adjust and intercept.
I wasn't the only one in Murdo watching the sky and refreshing satellite views and SPC observations. The Dominator crew and about a hundred other chasers were parked in various hotel and gas station parking lots hanging out, scarfing convenience store food, throwing frisbees, scrubbing windshields, jaywalking, and checking out each other's chase vehicles. I was concerned that the best, first storm would collect an instant caravan and I wanted to get out before that happened. Turns out this wouldn't be the problem. As I headed further west, the sky grew heavy with fast moving stratocumulus. It was frustrating to realize that I was going to have a terrible time visually spotting points of storm initiation.
Eventually, northbound radar returns started to pop up along I-90, east of Rapid City as well as a nice, tornado-warned cell far to the south near Crawford Nebraska. I started to drive south, thinking I could intercept the Nebraska storm somewhere near Wounded Knee. But then I second guessed myself and figured that I'd probably make this long drive through the badlands with difficult terrain and bad road options and the storm would be past its prime by the time I intercepted. So I headed back north of I-90 and traded one set of bad road options for another. I was positioned right at the southern end of several developing radar returns and finally caught a glimpse of one of the new towers to my east. To my north: wet gravel roads. I thought, ok, let's try these roads out and see if I can get ahead of the development and intercept around from the northwest.
Developing radar returns just before I began my long drive north to try and intercept the pick of the litter. (My location is shown by the blue target.)
Rough Kelvin-Helmholtz clouds forming in a nicely sheared environment.
A sunlit anvil blossoms to the east of my position.
My Honda Civic and the wet South Dakota dirt roads played nicely with each other. However, what with the Belle Fourche River Valley, majorly broken road grid, and wet dirt-gravel surface, I was no match for the storm motions. It didn't take long to realize that I wasn't going to intercept any of the storms I thought I would. So I plotted a path to hit Route 34, then Route 73 and work my way back toward I-90 and see if any new development would head my way.
Stunning overlook of the Belle Fourche River Valley.
It took forever to get back to a paved road, and night had fallen by the time I hit asphalt again. As I made my way back east, then south, severe and tornado-warned storms lit up the sky to the north and east. I was frustrated that I had failed so miserably at positioning myself, but the non-stop lightning show was a beautiful parting gift as I drifted along the lonely South Dakota highways.
Severe and tornado warned cells avoid my chosen route.
I parked for a few hours of sleep near Kadoka, SD, where the drizzling remains of the tornado-producing Crawford storm finally passed overhead and drifted off into the flickering night.
Lessons Learned:
If dirt roads are the only way to intercept a target already to my north, and there is a good possibility of a southern target, opt for the southern target.
Committing to a long, unpaved route in an area that is not fully gridded is probably a one-shot deal.
The Honda is compatible with at least some of the wet, unpaved roads in southwest South Dakota--although copiously wet would probably be a different story.
Setups where the target area is north of the surface low are a serious weakness for me to anticipate development.
My third day on the plains was a travel and practice day, in anticipation of the big Kansas outbreak day on Wednesday. South Dakota, Nebraska and northern Kansas fell away behind me as I made my way to Pratt, Kansas by late afternoon. A chance for a few elevated storms was forecast, and I took the opportunity to practice navigating around one of them on the awesome Kansas road network. As my sample storm drifted north-northeast, I gave the sandy, dusty farm roads a try, and got a good feel for how some of the dodgier ones were mingled in with the better-maintained roads. The consistency was a lot sloppier than the South Dakota experience the day before--definitely not something I want to be on when it's wet. I gradually let the storm slip by to my north as it put on a nice lightning display for me.
An elevated storm drifts along north of Pratt, Kansas, providing a nice opportunity to practice pacing and positioning along the local farm roads.
Radar view of my little practice storm.
Appreciating the sights along the way. This patched up old farm building was loaded with personality.
This was the one night I set aside for a motel to rest up for the big day on Wednesday. Money was tight, so I picked a low cost option on the east side of Pratt. The various long-term motel residents on the south wing were tailgate-partying and I probably would have been a little more unsettled if I wasn't so tired. There were no bedbugs that I could see, but I kept everything off the floor anyway. I asked for replacement sheets that didn't have hair on them. The new set of sheets had holes in them too, but thankfully no spare hair. I layered bath towels along my sleep area, maintained posture and had zero contact with the rest of the bed. Not ideal, but it was a great relief compared to the car seat sleeping position. It was so nice to have a shower too--don't touch the walls, or shower curtains of course.
Lessons Learned:
Less maintained Kansas roads can be dicey for a Honda Civic even when dry--stay away when wet.
Budget $60 for a less grungy motel experience. Bring a sleeping bag just in case.
Set video camera to 1/30 sec. exposure to keep lightning from being chopped up by rolling shutter effect.
I woke up on day 4 ready for an awesome day chasing some powerful storms across Kansas. Hopes dashed: a quick check of satellite showed something had gone wrong. A huge MCS was moving northeast out of the panhandles and raining all over everything. The forecast for an explosive day took a nosedive and the south-Kansas target was getting washed away with cool, cloud-covered stability. There was a chance that all the elevated convection would move out in time for the sun to warm it back up and try for a recovery, but it was looking pretty slim. I bailed out of the grunge hotel and hung out at a gas station refreshing satellite, forecast models and SPC analysis. Some chasers were hoping for an earlier recovery in southwest Oklahoma while others were hanging tight for renewed hopes in southern Kansas.
Just across the street from the grunge hotel, the TIV team scavenges for parts.
Gradually, the MCS moved out and clear skies started to edge in from the west. At the same time, I noticed that new convection in north Texas was sending huge, dense anvils racing northward just in time to block out the sun again. That was all I needed to see. My forecast area was toast. I headed west toward Dodge City to look for a opportunities closer to the surface low and in clear air. By the time I reached Dodge CIty, the SPC had posted a tornado watch discussion for northwest Kansas. The dryline was sticking out like a sore thumb from my position and on northward, but the cirrus canopy was hugging right along its eastern edge. So I got on Route 23 and took off for northwest Kansas. As I made my way north, a check of the rear view mirror showed new convection popping up right over Dodge City and looked like it was reaching for the ground and trying to get surface based. I almost turned around to give it a shot, but that cirrus deck was heavy and I figured the storm was going to have a horrible fetch of inflow. So I kept hauling north.
As I got closer to I-70, I could see storms to the north along the stationary/warm front beginning to go up. And here I was approaching from the south again. One of these days, I figure I'll position myself to not be playing catch up. Spending 15 minutes with stop-sign guy on a one lane stretch of road construction, waiting for the pilot car was a time of great sadness and anxiety. Somehow I still managed to catch up with a decent severe-warned storm on Highway 83 south of Oberlin. I was on the wrong side, and it was outflow dominant, but it was still the best thing I had intercepted the entire trip. I caught sight of an interesting lowering behind the rain curtains, but it didn't go any further than that before gusting out in a spectacular torrent of ragged scud and spindled shear vortices. I followed its remains past Oberlin where I caught the beautifully lit sight of another cell to the southeast. Radar show it to be weakening, so I decided to head north then east and sample its core.
Panorama of convection looking north along Highway 83 in NW Kansas.
Very wide panorama of severe-warned cell south of Oberlin, Kansas.
Rain free base with tantalizing lowering.
Enhanced reflectivity view of the Oberlin storm.
Velocity scan showing broad rotation
Tattered scud and shear vortices twist and fray as the Oberlin storm gusts out.
Nicely sculpted pillar of scud flows along the gust front.
Dwindling light reveals another dying cell to the southeast.
Time lapse video of the day's chase. Click through to YouTube to view in HD.
As I drove through the blinding rain, I noticed a car riding my tail. If they want to go play Hydroplane-on-the-Highway, I figured that's their business. So I pulled off the side and motioned them to pass. Instead they pulled alongside and told me I better hurry since the worst was headed this way. I hollered over the pounding rain, that yes, thank you, I know, but that I wasn't willing to drive as fast as them. So off they went. A couple more miles got me out of the core, and a great view of another nice lightning display on a dark Nebraska road with the frogs and crickets jamming away into the night.
The last of the convection moves north, flickering with lightning as night descends.
I eventually made my way back down to Highway 36 and west to just beyond the Colorado border. I pulled off on a dirt road and caught bursts of sleep while the surface low spun overhead entertaining and distracting me with bursts of rain and lightning all night long.
Lessons Learned:
Even the best setups can be demolished by situations that the forecast models didn't anticipate.
I made a good call abandoning the southern target when I did. The early convection and continued cloud cover destroyed all hope for that area. I'm also happy with making the decision to not go after the Dodge City cell. The cirrus canopy strangled it and it died out soon after.
I chased some stunning high-based storms with brief supercell structure in southern Arizona earlier this week.
A trough moving in from California was forecast to take on a negative tilt as it drifted into Arizona. Dynamics would be favorable for severe storms with 40-50 kts of shear, positive vorticity around the base of the trough, and some chances for winds sufficiently veering with height to support multicell and weak supercell structure. The SPC forecaster commented that the NAM was handling parameters nicely, so I gave it more attention for my initial plan than the RUC and GFS. It forecast a tongue of modest instability (500-750 j/kg MLCAPE) moving eastward from Yuma through the central deserts and then lava-lamping a blob of CAPE northward through the Phoenix area by late afternoon/evening.
I was initially tempted to head west, toward Kingman that morning. Ongoing convection associated with another field of instability was being spurred by a streak of upper air support. It didn't help that Flagstaff NWS was discussing the remote possibility of an isolated tornado for the northern Arizona forecast area. The Phoenix forecast for southern Arizona conceded the possibility of brief supercell structures, but didn't go so far as to leave the tornado possibility on the table. Still, the best combination of instability and jet streak dynamics seemed poised to effect southern Arizona more favorably than elsewhere. I also wanted to play in some terrain that had better visibility. So that's where I headed. I planned my first stop for Wickenberg to sidle closer to the front and then have a good road option to the southeast as I watched how convection developed.
By 10:30AM as I was nearing Cordes Junction I could see storms already blossoming south of Wickenburg along the cold front. I chastised myself for getting a late start and possibly missing an early show. But better dynamics were still hours away, so I pushed the frustration aside. As I approached Wickenburg along Rt. 74, a gap in the hills allowed a brief birds-eye view of one of the early storms pushing out an arcing ring of dust--one of many I'd get to sample through the day.
Storms erupting southwest of Wickenburg.
As I sat at the intersection of Rt. 74 and 60 checking radar and satellite, I was dodging ongoing feelings of self-doubt. Convection in northwest Arizona was doing very well for so early in the day while storms popping up in southwest Arizona were blooming and dying in short order, shooting thin anvils eastward in spurts. I was starting to worry that the atmosphere was going to get tapped of whatever available moisture there was, and the show in the north might be the only real play for the day. Still, I decided that as long as I was part-way there, I might as well commit the rest of the way to my southern target. So I cruised the rest of the way past Laveen, and south of South Mountain. Along the way, the storms pulsing along the cold front were really starting to push the dirt around. Much of my drive south ran me right through the diffuse wall of a dusty gust front.
Driving along the dusty gust front south of Laveen, AZ.
I parked the car off the road in the scrubby wastes northeast of Estrella Mountain (appears to be a perfect spot for disposing of contraband and bodies) and watched the merging arcs of dust pushed westward. A strong storm peeling away from Ajo dissipated as it approached and ran into a sad capping problem that was centered pretty much over my head. I held onto hope that the cap would erode as the dust cleared out and the surface heated back up. But the surrounding environment continued to be harsh on convection. One sad little cell pushed up over the mountain, but then faded into a mist.
Dying storm pushes another arc of dust eastward as it drifts over Estrella Mountain.
A weak cell makes it over the ridge and manages to develop a tiny little base.
The same cell now fades into a hazy mist.
Another batch of convection brewed back up over Ajo and then split as it moved over Interstate 8. The right mover looked really good, and I quickly headed south toward Maricopa to intercept it. As I rounded the east side of Estrella Mountain, I could see the dark core of the storm pushing up against the ridge. I soon caught a glimpse of the rain free base and a distinct lowering. Maricopa Road was thick with 75 mph rush-hour traffic, and I had a challenge finding a place to pull off safely. Casa Blanca Rd. did the trick. Although the storm had dwindled to a fraction of its former bulk, it still had a very nice show to put on. I spent the next several minutes photographing and filming a beautiful wall cloud being sculpted out of the storm's base.
Persistent lowering beneath the rain free base.
Panorama of storm and surroundings as wall cloud takes shape.
RFD begins to sculpt the wall cloud.
Closer view of wall cloud.
Wall cloud tries to pull in a little bob-tail on the right edge, while beginning to recede back into the base. RFD is cascading nicely down the left/south side.
After dropping into a nice, morphing cylinder, with a bit of RFD cascading down its south edge, it merged back into the base for a few minutes. As the storm moved further north, the base tightened up into a stunning barber pole with another, furry wall trying to form beneath.
The base of the storm tightens back up, developing barber pole structure.
By this time, another cell to my south started raining on me and feeding my target storm some cool, misty air. As I rushed northward to to get out of the rain, the storm base began to erode into a tattered claw, painted across a dusty, desert landscape. I hated not having a good place to pull over and capture the amazing sight to my left. To make the best of it, I rolled down the window, and snapped several uncomposed shots while concentrating on the road ahead of me, hoping one or two of them would frame it nicely. Fortunately that worked, and I came away with a couple in that series that I actually liked.
Panorama of storm base and surroundings as another storm to the south begins to rain on the parade.
The swirling storm base begins to tatter and erode as it chews on more stable inflow.
Last hurrah before traffic, stop lights, and curtains of rain let it pull away into Chandler, Mesa and points beyond. Note the stubby little tail hiding in the rags.
Before leaving that morning, I tried to sober myself with some rough odds:
80% chance of seeing some storms.
30% chance of getting a good look at a severe or otherwise interesting storm
10% chance of intercepting a storm with supercell structure
5% chance of a wall cloud
<1% chance of seeing a funnel or better
Four out of five's not bad, I figure! I was pretty happy with how things went as I spent the next 160 miles driving back up the mountain in pouring rain. Although the Maricopa storm possessed some key elements, I'm not sure I would call it a supercell--maybe a 'marginal' or 'brief' supercell. After reviewing the time lapse video, it did show rotation in the updraft, but it was not vigorous and had a very small radar signature by the time I intercepted it. In hindsight, I think that outflow from the earlier convection was what was killing the storms that I hoped would "come to me". I should have taken the extra driving hit and headed further south to Interstate 8 to catch a more pure fetch of moist southerly air where the convection was happier.
Taking a queue from Skip Talbot--
Lessons Learned
Don't let the early show distract you from the main play for the day.
Do factor in the atmospheric consequences of the early show when positioning for the main play.
Clean dust off my camera's sensor--cleaning the blobs out of the images later is a pain in the rear.
Southern Arizona has better chase terrain and visibility than the mountains of northern Arizona...but the road network still stinks compared to the plains.
Invest in a swatch of black velvet for the dashboard. Positioning the video camera on a huge, dark jacket to hide dashboard-window reflections is an obnoxious balancing act.
Blindly shooting photos out the side window can actually work if you have no other options.
Even at low speed, cruise control on my car is a force of evil when it encounters flooded highway ruts.
September/October in Arizona is my new second-chance chase season.
The second week of September has been a great week for organized storms in Arizona. A cutoff low developed over southern California, and has been drawing up moisture for several days and providing decent shear aloft. Lower level winds haven't been very strong and veering with height in the first kilometer not very promising. However, bulk shear from 30-40 knots, cooling and diffluence aloft, and ample moisture led to strong storms and support for occasional supercells.
Supercell thunderstorms are not common in Arizona, but after missing the storms that led to last year's Arizona tornado outbreak, I've been keeping an eye out for California cutoff lows. Being at the right place at the right time to view and film a rare Arizona tornado is so close to being unrealistic, that I'm not too anxious about it. However, catching an Arizona supercell seemed doable and would be a very nice gem to collect.
I've had my cameras ready in the car and kept an eye on radar in hopes of catching a good storm. I made a couple local chases the week before, caught some broad rotation in one storm and brief barber pole structure in another, but not much else. Then on the afternoon of September 13, I noticed weak, but sustained, rotation on a couple storms on doppler radar. I headed outside to get a look and to the north I saw a robust storm perched over the San Francisco Peaks. The rain free base sported a zone of rising scud, and I was surprised to see what appeared to be a wet RFD slot slicing into it. As the razor edged rain band pushed in, the rising scud quickly congealed into a wall cloud with a laminar profile and nice rising motion. All I had was my cell phone, so I had to suffice with a couple low-quality photos.
RFD and brief wall cloud southwest of San Francisco Peaks about 2:30 PM
Move mouse over image to view labels. Click for larger version.
RFD and wall cloud progressing
Hoping it would hold together, I quickly ran to my car to grab my cameras. By the time I got back to a good clearing in the trees, the original updraft cycle had eased off and the wall cloud had broken up. I was pretty disappointed, but the storm still looked strong, so I found a new vantage point along a stairway leading to the roof of my office building. I set the video camera up for a time lapse while shooting still photos as the storm cycled two more times.
Storm base moving over Schultz Pass
Panorama showing storm structure 3:00 PM
Move mouse over image to view labels. Click for larger version.
While shooting photos, I called my wife while she was running errands about a mile further north, closer to the rain free base. Besides describing a wicked looking storm and an occasional spray of hail, she mentioned the warm inflow that was feeding it.
The videos below show a time lapse view of the storm. I suggest clicking through to Youtube and viewing in high res
By now, a flanking line and gust front had developed along the storms southwest flank, and there appeared to be an inflow tail stretching eastward behind Mt. Elden. One area of rotation drifted eastward through Shultz Pass and dropped a broad, tattered wall cloud. This area seemed to be occluding while new circulation was trying to develop just south of it on the other side of the RFD gust front.
This second video shows detail in the wall cloud, including an interesting, conical structure drifting through it. The structure persisted for about 40 seconds. Although I wonder if it was an embedded funnel, I can't be sure--I can't discern motion in the dark silhouette.
Wall cloud drifting behind Mt. Elden.
Suspected funnel embedded in wall cloud.
Move mouse over image to view labels. Click for larger version.
Storm structure as new base forms.
The new area of rotation began to pull in rising scud and even started to form a tail cloud. It was definitely exciting to see it try to tighten up as rotation got faster, but it lost cohesion, and the storm pulled away to the northeast and out of view over the mountain.
RFD gust front makes a strong push.
Tail cloud begins to feed into new lowering.
RFD Slot.
This cycling supercell was a real treat to view. While I imagine it would be a disappointment by plains standards, it was pretty awesome as Arizona storms go. Unfortunately, the core was planted right over the Schultz Fire burn area and led to another round of serious flooding for neighborhoods downstream.
The station that recorded the radar images below is located to the southeast.
Base velocity at 2:30 PM showing 15 kt gate-to-gate shear during first wall cloud photos.
Base velocity at 3:00 PM showing 20 kt gate-to-gate shear in two locations during next sequence of photos.
An active and horrific weather pattern laid siege to much of the eastern US this past April, while the bulk of the central plains remained untouched. May is here now, and it looks like the first round of activity for the plains is shaping up for early next week. Models are generally showing that an upper low will dig in across the western US while low level moisture surges northward across the plains and the midwest. At 4-6 days out, position of upper level support relative to surface boundaries and moisture is difficult to pin down, but severe weather seems likely at points across the plains during this period.
I'm planning to pack up and head east on I-40 Saturday afternoon or Sunday morning, depending on whether conditions Sunday afternoon look favorable for severe storms along the dryline. From there, we'll see how things shape up from Texas through Nebraska. I'm not sure that I want to get drawn as far northeast as Iowa, but if the setup looks really good...
What a strange weather day. I was aware of the potential for severe weather today, but since it was a work day I didn't give it too much thought the night before.
Then I awoke to the sounds of the emergency broadcast system issuing a tornado warning on the TV in the living room (where Harrison was enjoying some early morning cartoons).
I turned on the computer, pulled up local radar and saw a train of red tornado warning polygons piling up and following a line of storms just west of Flagstaff. So yeah, it was a work day, but 10 miles from town? I'd be a mess if I didn't at least try. I asked to take a few hours off at the office, and then headed west on I-40 to Bellemont.
I had no overall plan, it was spur of the moment, and I hadn't spent any time going over the synoptic situation or models. No mobile data either. I just figured, one tornado-warned storm after another was cooking northward and ending up between Bellemont and Flagstaff...I'd surely see at LEAST some interesting structure.
Wrong.
No understanding of the overall setup, no data, towering ponderosas packed against 90% of any given roadway, very low cloud bases, storms moving at 40 mph, and a sparse road network that forces you to commit with no options for fine-tuned adjustment made for endless frustration.
I spent most of the time in drenching rain and pea-sized hail or looking up at racing clouds from inside a canyon of trees. As I cruised along I-40, one cooperative gap in the trees gave me about a 3 second glimpse of a nicely flared rain free base on a storm that had been tornado-warned near Sedona. I wasn't able to re-acquire it. Just too much terrain. Hindsight: I should have worked south on I-17...once the storms started training eastward they lost their punch after moving north over the rim.
The Bellemont truck stop is situated in a nice, open prairie landscape, which provides a better visual if that's where a mesocyclone plans to traipse. Which, none did while I was sitting there without radar data.
If I had been there several hours earlier, it would have been a completely different situation. Severe storms are fascinating, but not when lives and livelihoods are threatened. One confirmed tornado, and likely some serious straight-line winds were unloaded and wreaked havoc with this little community between 6:00 and 7:30 this morning. As I drove around looking for an open vantage point to watch the incoming storms, DPS was everywhere. Several rail cars were laying on their sides, demolished semi frames were in the median of I-40, buildings had their roofs and siding peeled away, and an RV lot looked like gravity had suddenly shifted, toppling and bursting random campers open. Fortunately, there were no fatalities; however seven were injured.
So, yeah, I was frustrated by how the chase went, but how can that even compare to the frustration of having your home ravaged, pieces of your life blown off into the mountains, or someone you love having glass and debris picked out of them in the ER?
Anyway, a very strange weather day. See below for some photos.
Train derailment at Bellemont
RV Lot and Building Damage
RV Lot Damage
RV Lot Damage
RV Lot Damage
This was about as good as it got for views of incoming storms if you were anywhere near my car. :P
Last month while running an errand for work, I noticed a thin funnel hanging below a developing storm base. Of course I didn't have my camera with me, but I did have my cell phone. I finally remembered it was hanging out on my phone today, so here is the photo.
Next month, we'll be doing some rock hounding in Iron County, Utah. When we were there last year, we spent just a couple hours at some mine dumps west of Cedar City and found some great specimens...several of these turned out to be fluorescent under a standard black light (long wave UV). Since I really want to track down some more of these awesome rocks, I ordered a couple portable UV lamps to bring with us. The first one arrived a few days ago--a 4 watt short wave UV lamp. I hadn't seen any of our collection under short wave UV yet, so I got busy shining it on everything we had. I was excited to see that this lamp nearly doubled the number of fluorescents we have--and some of them are stunning!
A four watt lamp is very low power, but it's enough to examine things (and was all I could afford for the time being). I won't be able to stalk around after dark and shine it on a massive hill of mine tailings and see anything, but it works well enough that I should be able to throw a black tarp over myself and get in close to see if anything lights up.
Here are the photos of our current fluorescent collection. It contains rocks from the Comstock Mine Dump, Iron County, UT; Chalcedony from Brian Head, UT; Rocks from north of La Madera, NM; Petrified Wood from Hurricane Mesa, UT; and some small, bright red specimens from south of Cleator, AZ. Click to view larger versions of the images (the larger ones are better).
It's been a busy weekend for the hotshots around Flagstaff.
Schultz Fire - June 20, 2010
This one gave me a fright when I opened the kitchen window on the north side of our house this afternoon. For a couple seconds I thought that our summer monsoon had gotten a very unexpected start, but then I noticed the yellow and brown coloration and gasped at how close and large it was. The updraft was strong enough that it was pushing up a hedge of white pyrocumulus along the roiling top of the smoke column. Rather than clog up Highway 89 any further, we headed east along old Rt. 66 to get a vantage point near the Walnut Canyon overpass. We pulled of the road and watched the slurry bombers and helicopters drifted across the angry wall of smoke. I spent a few minutes shooting a time lapse of the breathing cloud of blue and brown smoke. Be sure to click the images for larger versions.
Schultz Fire erupts behind our house.
Schultz Fire Panorama from Rt. 66.
Close view of the base of the Schultz Fire.
Time lapse of the Schultz Fire. Select the 480px size for the best quality.
Hardy Fire - June 19, 2010
This one started yesterday, Saturday June 19, on the south side of town where it forced the evacuation of Little America Hotel and a few surrounding homes. I first noticed some white whisps of smoke shortly after lunchtime and within a couple hours it was shooting up a fierce smoke column. I drove to one of our office locations on 4th street to get some photos of the air tankers and helicopters orbiting the blaze. Click images for large versions.
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