Sublime and Serene Sandhills Scenes
Filed under: Summary
near Hyannis, NE
16 Jun 13
SHORT: Photogenic nontornadic storms and skyscapes in Sandhills followed by serene sunset in CDR. Most enjoyable Sandhills storm day I’ve had.
LONG:
Forecasting for this day revealed classical trade-offs of stronger shear north, richer moisture south, and the most optimal juxtapositions of the margins thereof being in the least favorable area of the Plains for consistently successful viewing: the Nebraska Sandhills.
Hoping to catch something worthwhile along the edges of the big dune pile, we left the outskirts of the DEN area fairly early, heading NE on I-76 toward a buffet lunch in Sterling, then I-80 to OGA. Boundaries were subtle amidst weak CINH and amble CAPE, and midday to early-afternoon storms erupted almost at once in all directions. “One of [i]those days, I see!”
Convection over, E and S of us was rocketing almost vertically toward the tropopause–a strong sign of the lack of deep shear. The sights of sharp, rapidly rising storm towers beckoned attention; however with all these updrafts blasting skyward in close proximity, a southeastward moving outflow bomb (into even weaker flow aloft) was sure to follow, aimed at Kansas. So it was.
Bidding farewell to the initial eruptions that quickly accreted into a multicellular mess, we plunged northward past our familiar old friend Lake McConaughy, into the heart o’ the hills and halfway to Hyannis. When storm observing in the Sandhills, the higher terrain surrounding the roads doesn’t matter very much as long as
* Tornado potential is low;
* Bases are fairly high anyway;
* Storms aren’t going to be raging bows or HPs that make you run like hell down the few and winding roads that crisscross the area.
Meeting those conditions with success meant the next couple hours were magical. A storm about 60 miles to our N was tornado-warned–but not likely to maintain that structure by the time we would arrive, thanks to a gob of outflow air to its immediate ENE. Meanwhile another high-based cell between OGA and Hyannis, one we could see initiate from I-80, briefly gave us an interesting presentation from the SE and from the E before it lost structure.
Meanwhile the older, stronger supercell hooked hard right and ripped S almost straight down our highway, so we pounded N to see what was left of it. By the time we arrived, still S of Hyannis, the supercell was obviously becoming elevated behind its own and antecedent outflow, based on visual appearance, its mesocyclone broadening and weakening based on looks at volume scans from the Sandhills radar unit. Nonetheless, as it veered back leftward again and passed to our NE and E, the storm offered a wicked skyscape in remarkable symmetry with the undulating musculature of the foreground landscape, a scene quite unlike anything I’ve seen!
One of the greatest aspects of storm observing on the Great Plains is the uniqueness of each storm alone, and especially in its landscape. One never sees the same thing twice, and each new storm is a new opportunity for an experience unlike anything prior. This wild sky definitely was no exception, nor was the next magnificent convective specimen that soon erupted to our NW.
Just in time for the elevated storm to perish, its cold outflow buffeting is with a brisk, clammy breeze, the winds backed around to the SW and warmed some, while the new storm moved resolutely in our direction. This one was marvelous to behold from both sides–the proximal inflow region and the back of the storm.
We jumped back S a few miles and let the storm’s main core (presumably containing severe hail) pass by us to the N and NE, offering a chance to observe the sunlit side. One of my favorite scenes all spring was the one-lane Sandhills blacktop with the rainbow arching over. Another was the rainbow seeming to drop right into a rain-soaked pasture nourishing contended horses.
Standing before the amazing beauty of that storm’s west side, I had an experience best described as immersively transcendent, completely one with the land and sky. After absorbing the full, surround-vision image of what was happening, I closed my eyes, standing with arms wide apart and upward, hands open, in praise for this great gift from above. Deep breaths fully drew in the clean, refreshing, rain-cooled and dampened air, with a sweet aroma of renewal and rejuvenation. Right then, the sun came out, unseen but certainly felt, warming my back comfortably. The easterly breeze of mild outflow, infused with just a few tiny raindrops, gently cooled the front side. The moment felt like a direct connection to heaven, harmony across all physical and spiritual sensations, lasting for probably for just a few seconds but seeming to be much more.
Every good moment has to end, so we enjoyed the last of that one, then headed off toward our lodging destination of CDR with some WY/MT storms in mind for the next several days. Along the way, we encountered some precip from elevated storms just W of Hyannis. We unloaded at our room in CDR (the Westerner Motel is highly recommended…American-owned and run, and very friendly folks!), then headed to the Country Kitchen on the hill for dinner with a view.
Sunset indeed treated us to a splendid display, looking SW across the rolling green hills of the Nebraska Panhandle at some weak storms that erupted on the outflow boundary in WY. I took that shot from the parking lot of the restaurant…told you it had a view! So concluded a marvelous day of storm observing and outdoor appreciation in the Nebraska Sandhills.
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Our PING trail for this day.