Strike Three (Time for New Game)
Lindsay and Elmore City OK, St. Jo TX
20 May 13
SHORT: Strike 3, batter out for this system. Intercepted 3 supercells in 3 tornado warnings and 2 states, saw no tornadoes: 1) Lindsay OK, 2) between DUC-PVJ, 3) near St. Jo TX.
LONG:
Setting up “the day after the day after the day before the day”
Somehow, on consecutive Kansas/Oklahoma tornado days, we had come up empty-handed in that regard–and worse, with very few decent photos or positively memorable experiences to show for it, despite multiple storms intercepted. This third chance, a cold front was moving very slowly SE across central OK, into an air mass characterized by upper 60s to low 70s F surface dew points, and strong surface heating. Many long-time, seasoned storm observers, in their pre-chase forecast musings, targeted the cold-front/dryline triple point area, forecast to be near FSI by late afternoon. Rich T and I wanted to hang a little closer (CHK area) for starters, but as it turns out, not even that was “close” enough.
My last forecast offering before hitting the road summed up the pre-chase situation fairly well:
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In some ways, this is a messier, more difficult chase-forecasting scenario than previous two days, and we still somehow avoided all the tornadoes on them. What does today have in store?
Could be an early-initiation scenario (relative to previous days), especially on the “northern” end of the regime from the CHK-OKC area NEward, given positioning of the upstream shortwave trough, high CAPE, rich low-level moisture and likelihood of CINH eroding fairly quickly in SSW-ward zippering fashion. This looks like one of those patterns that support fairly quick SWward backbuilding after initial mode of relatively discrete storms. Two big questions to answer today:
1. How long will discrete mode last?
2. Will storms go too early and get messy while the warm-sector flow still is somewhat veered, and before low-level SRH picks up later in the afternoon?
Rich and I were rather worn out from the two prior days, but decided to head out anyway, given that the threat was within a couple hours’ drive of home. By the time we left, shortly after 1 p.m., deep towers already were building along the cold front W and SW of the OKC area, and along the dryline farther SW.
What was and could have been
Migrating our way SW, we noticed two main areas of development–a multicellular splotch near FSI (later to evolve into the DUC-PVJ supercell) and a more discrete, fast-growing echo SSE of CHK, headed toward PRC. The latter was closer, moving into a high-CAPE, moderate-shear environment, and more isolated, so we migrated that way for starters. A nice vantage from just E of Lindsay offered this early view of the young storm to our WSW, still small and beginning to fall under the anvil shadow of the FSI-DUC cluster (the latter’s anvil being visible at distant left).
Had the Moore storm formed either first, or a little later (with more time to get there), we might have targeted it instead. However, it developed to our NNW near Blanchard, with a rather ragged early look for such a big-CAPE day, as seen through the anvil precip of the Lindsay storm. Being in the immediate inflow of the latter, which still held some promise of growing and maturing, we held position.
Questions about our storm’s current and future integrity arose with the dramatic sharpening of the appearance of the future Moore storm, the narrow updraft of the Lindsay supercell as it moved nearby to our NW, and the rain falling into the latter’s inflow from the anvil of the DUC cluster.
Before long, the Lindsay supercell weakened dramatically, leaving us sitting there stormless with this decision: zigzag back NNE to I-35 and try to catch the northern storm, now tornado-warned and sporting a hook as it moved toward western Moore, or head S on a more straightforward path to ahead of the consolidating and closer DUC convection, by now also sporting a radar-indicated mesocyclone and moving NE (much faster approach). Chasing in the metro area also was considered a negative; so we turned S.
Soon after doing so, we heard a frantic TV simulcast over the radio describing a growing and potentially violent tornado moving into Moore. This was terrible news on multiple fronts. Moore had been devastated multiple times in the past 15 years, and this was the last thing they should have to deal with. Secondarily, we were getting the vibe that, for the third day in a row, it just wasn’t our day to see a tornado (despite not reaching the DUC storm yet).
We still had time to do a quick turn-around and maybe catch the Moore storm after it crossed I-35; but stern-chasing a destructive event through the suburbs seemed rather unwise. By contrast, Elke, who had stayed home and was watching the event unfold on TV, was able to get a safe, in-person peek of the last few minutes of the Moore tornado simply by driving a few miles N and finding a hillside vantage (E. Franklin Rd E of 36th Ave). Some trees and terrain were in the way, but she watched as the Moore tornado (by then well E of I-35) appeared to her NW, narrowed, then roped out in wild, loopy fashion.
Meanwhile, an hour to the south, we simply had to digest the fact that we were missing what sounded like the worst central OK tornado event since 3 May 99, while also hearing a report of a brief tornado from the DUC storm that we hadn’t reached yet!
Post-tornadic DUC-PVJ supercell
Heading W out of Elmore City, we caught the former Duncan-area supercell W of Foster. Finding reasonable vantages was difficult amidst the shoulder-deprived roads, hills, trees, an abundance of both real and imitation storm chasers taking up the best pullouts, and storm structure that looked very wet and messy via glimpses through the obstructions. What was left of the main mesocyclone got wrapped in rain and lost its identity NW of Foster, as very heavy showers flooded the main supercell’s inflow region with their own stabilizing effluent. A newer meso seemed to get undercut as it crossed the road nearby, and as we experienced cold RFD outflow to its immediate SE.
Nonetheless, the storm tried, amidst all the convective-scale slop, to maintain some supercellular identity as it headed ENE between Elmore City and PVJ. This view, looking NW, was about its most robust appearance, with moderate visual rotation and a concurrent reflectivity hook on radar, before it crossed I-35 just N PVJ. After short deliberation in town, we let the gradually shrinking storm go, and plunged S on I-35 to intercept whatever would remain of a big North TX supercell located SE of SPS. It was either that or give up and crawl home in shame. Not being easy quitters, we decided to make a go of it.
Takin’ the Tejas plunge and back
Radar showed the Texas storm right-moving toward Muenster, so getting safely ahead of it would be easy at legal Interstate speeds. First, however, we had to reach to a spot just S of the Arbuckles before the front wall of a formerly discrete supercell–by now a messy storm tangled up with a large load of other convection, and dominated by a deeply rain-wrapped/forward-flank circulation. We beat that electrically active mélange of amorphous slop by just a few miles (structure so fuzzy it wasn’t worth a photo stop), then proceeded across the Red River. A left-mover we had been monitoring SSE of the storm was closing in fast, leaving us with (at best) a narrow window of potential before mutually assured convective disruption.
Turning W on US-82 aimed us toward a dramatically darkening and increasingly lightning-splashed western sky. After we left Gainesville, the former fuzzy mess that we had ignored got tornado-warned NE of ADM. That’s right–kick us while we’re down!
Between St. Jo and Nocona, we found a temporarily good place to park, as the supercell–by now an HP stormzilla into which the large left-mover already was ramming with great force–closed in. While waiting, we encountered Matt Crowther and Vince Miller, and had a short but nice chat with them.
When the approaching half of the sky looks like this, and then several minutes later, like this (notice the long line of fleeing vehicles), it’s not a wise idea to stick around sipping frosty brews and smoking Cuban cigars from the comfort of lawn chairs. Having no such suds, smokes or seats anyway (just shamefully seldom-used cameras), we high-tailed it E back to Gainesville. Meanwhile, ransacked by all the cell mergers, collisions and outflow, the formerly imposing storm became a gusty heap of rain and lightning. Whataburger time…
We ate, let the heaviest part of the cores slide by to our N, then shot the convective gap northward before some heavy, training and elevated storms reached the Marietta/ADM area. Some beautifully colored sky, just before and after sunset, greeted us near Springer. That offered but a small modicum of cool relief on part of what felt like a substantially large chase burn. By the time we rolled back N on I-35, in despair over the disaster in Moore, and with Rich’s chase vacation having ended on three straight swing-n-miss days, we were quite ready to carry out the sentiment expressed by the following quote from 2006…after all, our chances of seeing Sasquatch seemed greater at that point.
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“Let’s forget this tornado chasing and go look for Bigfoot.”
There still was some vacation time left for me, however. Soon, I would desire (and embark upon) some much-welcomed and soothingly corrective “High Plains Therapy”.
In the Dust Bomb
Protection KS
18 May 13
SHORT: Intercepted outflow-dominant mess of storms in SW KS with gustnado and dusty air currents.
LONG:
Favorably strengthening mid-upper level winds were expected to boost deep shear atop an increasingly well-defined dryline that, by mid-late afternoon, would set up on the east edge of the central and southern High Plains, near 100W. We had diagnosed an 850-mb dry slot left by an earlier wave aloft that was likely to lead to a shallower and more easily mixed moist layer over potential NW TX and western OK dryline targets, leaving is with western KS. The closest available part of western KS to us was southwestern KS. Hence, that was our rough target on this “day before the day”. Very rich moisture and backed surface flow were expected to reach parts of west-central and southwest KS before dark, but could it get there in time to be tapped by storms that likely would fire off the dryline beforehand?
Out the door early enough, Rich and I headed up the Northwest Passage, fueling and meeting the esteemed storm-observing firm of Fogel, Fogel, Weitzberg and Brown (and two heavily panting leonbergers) in WWD. There, we all were greeted by the full-body, hair-dryer feel of 96 degree F air blowing past. When the car thermometer (which is fairly well-calibrated in Norman to the nearby mesonet site) hit 101 deg F just across the KS line, between Sitka and Protection, we knew that was just too warm to preclude serious outflow from eventually taking over any storm that developed in that environment. However, we also expected richer moisture (supporting 70s F surface dewpoints farther E along the border) to advect into the area after peak heating, thereby lowering LCL and boosting CAPE. Which process would prevail first?
We all headed E back into the mid-90s heat, and a shady rest area near Coldwater where the big dogs could get out and walk some without suffering heatstroke. There we also met Ryan Jewell, watching towers bubble up and occasionally glaciate along the dryline from NNW-W-SW. The gathered crew (four of whom are pictured here) represented a large collective of storm-observing experience, which makes some of our decision-making this day even more peculiar! Since they may not wish to be positively, pictorially identified with this chase day, we may only know their monikers (l-r) simply as Big Dog Daddy, Downtown, The Roach, and Jumpin’ J-Hawk, with Gran Rogelio behind the camera.
Patiently this motley bunch awaited the arrival of the better moist layer that we could see in the form of haze and lower-based cumuli off to the E and SE. One of these, the high-based little Cb pictured here, moved NNE and eventually evolved into the Rozel cell. Had we known what it would do, we would have followed this seemingly pathetic little plume with mouth-foaming fervor. Alas, on this day, we simply did not. With this cell moving closer to the moist axis, I still can’t fully explain why we chose to go SW toward the bigger, messier activity coming out of the Panhandle and still in the drier air, except for some hopes it would not get outflow-dominant before reaching the richer moist layer we could see to the ESE.
Meanwhile, a storm farther N (and legitimately out of reach) was already tornado warned and apparently producing rain-wrapped circulations as it approached I-70. Longstanding convection in the northeast TX Panhandle and extreme northwestern OK was growing in size and depth, glowing with blood-red reflectivities on radar and a deepening visual darkness in the southwestern sky.
Someone mentioned the possibility of anvil shadowing cooling the temps, lowering LCL, weakening mixing, and perhaps allowing the moist layer to advect into the inflow region relatively unadulterated. It wasn’t bad reasoning, per se, but the large size and SW-NE, quasi-linear orientation of the cluster to our SW should have been a clue that it wouldn’t wait for the rich moisture before spreading its load of outflow all over the surrounding countryside.
As we approached via southwesterly zigzag, the cluster seemed broad and disorganized with some updraft area on the south and east sides. When we stopped, S of Protection, the updraft area obviously was getting undercut by outflow, and the high-based, multicellular mess started its predictable forward-propagational heave. Cold outflow blasted past us to the E and SE, and a weak gustnado buzzed eastward across a field to our NE.
Dust rose from roads and fields, jacked skyward and forward in dense plumes, scenes from the Grapes of Wrath swirling through our minds as ribbons of fine soil blasted past. J-Hawk photographed and sepia-toned two of us pathetically immersed in the lofted dirt.
Massive dust-bombing wasn’t why we drove over 200 miles, though it did offer its own interesting photographic adventures. Nonetheless, this was the hand we pulled from the deck. Richer moisture did move into the inflow layer of this storm complex, but by then it evolved into a raging, N-S squall line that ate up every other convective attempt in its path (including the tornadic Rozel supercell that had gotten entrained into its N edge). One last view of the convection at sunset, from near Camp Houston OK, and it was time to plod home, regrets over choosing the “wrong” storm tempered by hopes for the next couple of days of potentially significant tornadic potential closer to home.