Tri-County Chase
Elmore City to Dibble OK
28 May 12
SHORT: Intercepted three marginal supercells in central OK–two small, short-lived right-movers and a big left-mover.
LONG: The younger and larger of the Two Chumps managed to convince the older and slimmer one that today was worth at least a casual look, since the potential was nearby. As we pored over data at my place, towers started going up from central OK into NW TX, in an environment characterized by a deeply mixed boundary layer, little CINH, strongly curved but small low-level hodographs, and lift near and ahead of the surface cold front and dryline.
Proximity led us to the nearest sustained cell, erupting W of Lindsay. Along the way, we loaded Bryan Smith into the vehicle so that he could enjoy fond memories of the adventure forevermore. We could see the (high) base of the cell even from the Goldsby exit of I-35; and it filled in with progressively more core as we approached, exhibiting modest visual structures suggesting some storm-scale rotation. What the hell…might as well…say it’s a supercell.
By the time we reached the Antioch area, looking W, the storm had a dense core but small updraft base–a factor that seems to have led to its eventual shriveling demise N of Elmore City. Thickening anvil shadow from the growing multicellular cluster to the SW (near DUC) also seemed to have cooled the boundary layer and reduced CAPE for an already struggling updraft.
Once the last shreds of that storm disintegrated (as shown with the approaching DUC left-mover in the background), we headed back toward home, with an eye to the W for organizing cells back near Dibble. One of them caught our attention, briefly assuming weakly apparent supercell character (with wall cloud). The problem was, as shown in this much wider-angle shot, the far-larger left-mover loomed menacingly to its S, gobbling up air as if Pac Man at the all-you-can-eat dot buffet. Little fish of a right-mover at right, bloated whale of a left-mover at left…how promising is this situation for the former?
The entire regime indeed turned into a labyrinthine convective mess, which followed us the short distance home, giving us eastern Norman denizens some much-welcomed rain, small hail, and ultimately, a pleasingly kaleidoscopic sunset.
Twilight Delight
Western OK
19 May 12
SHORT: Intercepted series of cells along broken storm line from Vici-Elk City OK, culminating with very picturesque tail-end supercell in sunset and twilight.
LONG: The forecast for severe-storm potential appeared all along a cold front from north-central KS to NW and W-central OK, with moisture I would characterize as sufficient but not ideal (in keeping with the general theme for the season so far). I figured that storms in KS would have somewhat more cross-boundary flow early, but still eventually line out, and that high-based storms could fire in the intense boundary-layer mixing regime of the dryline–S of the front in the GAG-CDS corridor, during 22-0Z. Some nicely sculpted structures would be possible for any convection that lasting into twilight when shear by most measures would improve. Flow should back into this area around 0Z, enlarging hodographs. So, the choice of targets was farther in KS early, or later in western OK. We chose the latter.
The Two Chumps headed NW through Seiling, observing a line of nearly equally deep towers gradually building against the stout cap. We were followed within a few miles by (and eventually in tandem with) the Two Dudes, Two Dogs and a Cousin chase team featuring David and Samara Fogel, Keith Brown and the equine-like canines Porthos and Trego. As we headed W from Seiling, a few of the deeper towers ballooned into full-fledged cumulonimbi, their anvils gradually amalgamating together amidst upper winds that had a strong component parallel to the front.
We pulled over just W of Vici (pronounced Vy Sigh, often heard as Vaaaah Saaaah), in the cooling shadow of the young line of storms. A large, lone, grumpy Charolais bull, just on the other side of a barbed-wire fence, seemed annoyed by our presence, but left after I threatened to kick its ass. [This is true. No bull. Ask Rich.] We basically were watching somewhat disorganized convection (view to our SW) and biding time (time lapse of the northern convective sky).
Once the line of cells began stairstepping back to the SW, while translating eastward, we charted a southward course to keep ahead of its anchor area. This resulted in several stops between Vici and I-40 along OK-34. One encouraging sign for the future was this high-based, short-lived cell exhibiting a small occlusion near Camargo. Another cell, looking NE from near Moorewood, was even larger, also bearing a short-lasting clear slot.
More storms were getting organized on the new tail-end area SW of Moorewood, but slowly. We sat on a dirt-road hilltop about a mile off the main highway, enjoying a marvelous 360-degree view of the rolling landscape and skyscape from just within some refreshingly cool outflow air, and listening to the birds and the breeze. I also shot a series of photos for a time lapse of a turbulent and deeply textured updraft, roiling atop some outflow from the increasingly electrified cells to the NE. The elevated base offered some eerie and fascinating lighting as it traveled to our N. I even managed to capture a shot of the mysterious, legendary and little-understood Humanoid of the High Plains!
Finally, a newer, anchoring cell to our SW (and NW of Elk City) started showing some tail-cloud features, striations and a broad base, indicating that perhaps the first sustainably supercellular storm was underway. We vectored S for intercept operations, stopping briefly in the forward flank’s path for a view at the BS Ranch (very appropriately named, given the company). The storm was passing over the Red Hills Wind Farm at the time, growing but acquiring more of an HP character by the minute.
The supercell moved E toward Foss Lake, so we dropped to its S and SE for some wonderful structure, lighting and lightning displays, starting with this view looking N from near Elk City. Before we turned E on I-40 to zip ahead of the storm again, the areas all around the rain-wrapping mesocyclone underwent a stage of furious sparking–much to our delight, since we weren’t in the target zone of the barrage.
The Interstate granted us a fortuitously well-positioned opportunity to get ahead of the supercell for a sunset show, which we did (barely) just N of Alfalfa. Through diaphanous veils of rain and hail, the glowing orb shone resplendently golden, while a tiered stack of vaporous wheels slowly turned high above. Meanwhile, pivoting one’s attention from west to north, it was an astounding scene: the translucently rain-wrapped mesocyclone region, swirling in sunset hue, also offered a bowl-shaped, slowly rotating lowering and partial clear slot–the closest this storm ever came to producing a spinup. The more distant wall cloud actually was part of a different storm, also organizing as a supercell, but only briefly. This also might be the only time I photograph two mesocyclones and a CG in such light!
Where we stood for nearly too long, bedazzled in rapt admiration of the scene above, the core nearly caught us. Another several miles down the slab, then north, took us to the outskirts of Clinton, buying us a few more minutes of twilight time in the company of a truly marvelous storm (wide-angle view looking W, wide-angle view looking NW).
Darkness fell, and with it the end of both the supercell and our active intercept pursuits, as the storm was starting to gust out and merge with convection forming behind it. We headed over to Elk City for a celebratory dinner, encountering a remarkably dense barrage of small to marginally severe hail along the Interstate and in town. After dinner, we parted ways, the bigger chase team headed northward for Dakota days while Rich and I spent the night in Shamrock in advance of the next day’s annular solar eclipse chase.
Gorgeous Skyscapes: Wind Cave National Park
Filed under: Summary
Splendid Storm and Sunset near Hot Springs SD
14 June 11
SHORT: Began in Kimball. High-based storms and shallow convection along way N to Hot Springs SD. Beautiful storm before sunset over Wind Cave NP followed by equally amazing sunset scenes there.
LONG:
This wasn’t intended to be a “chase day”, per se, but we nonetheless encountered some beautiful shallow-convective scenery enroute that make it well worth sharing here, capped off by a wonderful little storm and color-splashed sunset where the Black Hills meet the Great Plains. On this day, the convection came to us!
After a decent brunch in IBM, we took off N for a couple of nights in a familiar set of cabins at Hot Springs. Along the way, we photographed an abandoned performance hall against a backdrop of brilliant, post-frontal blue sky and deep cumuli. The old place, structurally sound but superficially rickety, had a stage, piano, ticket booth, and separate outdoor latrine. Imagine having to leave the performance because of a terrible need to take a big dump…everyone there would know!
Sufficient residual moisture and relatively cold air aloft supported convectively textured, yet very clean, post-frontal skies that made fine backdrops for photographing other abandoned structures, such as this one near Crawford and this one near the NEb/SD border. The sky also added richness to scenes of rock formations, patterns, flowers and landscapes in the Toadstool Geologic Park within Oglala National Grassland. Toadstool is a wondrous little favorite place for us on the Great Plains–an outpost of the Badlands without all the tourist crowds–where we spent a few hours hiking and exploring for the first time in several years.
We got dinner in Hot Springs, whereupon my son David called to inform me he was caught driving in a tremendous hailstorm in Norman and needed advice on what to do. I directed him to a parking area; but his vehicle later got damaged by a flying tree limb in the second downburst. Facebook soon sprang to life with frantic posts of the fury of the hail-filled downbursts upon Norman. Ultimately, we would need to replace a good deal of roofing and guttering on our house from this event; and I knew even then that I would have many limbs to saw up and drag to the curb upon return. The dread of that chore made me enjoy this vacation even more, far away from still another Norman maelstrom that struck in our absence.
After dinner, we secured our cabin overlooking town, then headed up the road toward the rolling grasslands of Wind Cave National Park in hopes of some buffalo, wildflowers and sunset. Elke and I long have wanted to photograph a beautiful storm in the uniquely beautiful setting of this place…lo and behold! There it was! As we approached, we saw a growing Cb, cruising ESE across the undulating green carpet. One of our favorite overlooks happened to offer an outstanding view of the brilliantly lit storm. There we stayed, intermittent rumbles of thunder competing with the western meadowlarks for our ear, warm inflow at our backs, and before our eyes, among the most astounding non-severe stormscapes I’ve witnessed. The storm receded to the NE then E, letting the deep blue post-frontal sky into our wide-angle view, offering a source of reflected eastern light. We had begun full-sensory bathing in yet another transcendent experience best described by what Gretel Ehrlich once declared “the solace of open spaces”.
Just when we thought things couldn’t get more beautiful, they did, in a three-act production set across the theater of the sky. First, our storm gained a dense little core festooned with a bright rainbow that, after swapping on a zoom lens, made a postcard-pretty landscape scene for the national park. Right as that storm receded across the distant Badlands and weakened, the southwestern sky lit up with golden fractus basking in the sunset glow. As soon as those clouds began to dissipate, a couple of small virga showers formed to the S, dropping their wispy mists into the deepening red-orange hues. As they moved east, the moonrise beneath made for one of my favorite sunset and twilight shots of the year: flaming red virga beneath a golden crowned convective cloud top and blue sky. Finally, even as those colors faded, the western sky briefly blazed with a red-gilded cloud edge.
So concluded an unexpectedly stunning and soul-soothing display of atmospheric artistry! Before leaving the hilly meadow, however, there was one more piece of business to attend. On this evening, even a turd could spawn beauty, in this case a buffalo cookie supporting a mushroom! We would return the next day for some wildlife and flower photography and a visit to Crazy Horse, before resuming what would become the most active storm-observing vacation of our lives to date…