Highway Work during Tornado Watches and Warnings

Last Sunday, April 10, 2011, while chasing storms across central Wisconsin on a moderate risk day, my three teammates and I found ourselves stranded in a traffic bottleneck on eastbound I-90 just west of Oakdale. Ordinarily I would have viewed the situation as merely an inconvenience, but with a tornado-warned supercell bearing down on us, and with the radar showing pronounced rotation making a beeline for our location, the matter elicited somewhat greater concern. We could see what appeared to be the mesocyclone advancing over the hilltops. But we couldn’t do a thing about it, nor could any of the several hundred other vehicles that were backed up for a mile or two in both directions, courtesy of the Wisconsin Department of Transportation.

Fortunately, nothing tragic happened. But it could have. The storm wasn’t merely Doppler-warned–it produced a number of tornadoes. We encountered some of its handiwork later on in Arkdale, consisting of a good quarter-mile-wide swath of shredded trees and badly damaged houses. Had the storm gone tornadic a few miles prior, it would have gobbled up helpless motorists like a giant Pac Man in an M&M plant.

What highway department contractor made the outrageous decision to hold up traffic in a way that put hundreds of people directly in harm’s way with no escape? The storms didn’t form in an information vacuum. Three days prior, the Storm Prediction Center had already outlooked the area as a moderate risk. Forecasters had been consistently harping about the possibility of strong, long-lived tornadoes. The weather was hardly a surprise that caught road repair team leaders unaware. So my inevitable conclusion is that some boneheaded foreman was so hell-bent on getting the job done at all costs that he or she willfully exposed hundreds of drivers to a potentially deadly weather event.

Such action is worse than irresponsible; it borders on criminal. I do not want the highway department making dispassionate decisions that risk my life and a multitude of others on behalf of a DOT schedule. How much time would have been lost rather than saved had the worst happened and the focus shifted from road work to emergency response? With scores of crumpled vehicles strewn along the highway and scattered across the field, how would the Department of Transportation have explained a common-sense-be-damned approach that resulted in multiple deaths and injuries?

The incident I’ve cited is just one of innumerable highway closures that occur all across the Midwest due to road work that continues despite tornado watches and warnings. It’s not the first time I’ve encountered the practice, just the most infuriating, and yes, the scariest because of the immediacy of the storm. I doubt anything I say here is going to change the mindset responsible for such scenarios, but it deserves to be called out for its life-endangering lunacy, and this is as good a place as any to do so. It’s my blog, and right now I feel like using it to rant.

WisDOT, what on earth were you thinking, assuming that you were thinking at all? Get a clue: Public safety trumps your deadlines. Evidently someone in your ranks felt differently last Sunday, choosing to put hundreds of motorists in jeopardy rather than suspend road work on account of a tornado warning. Does that kind of decision accurately reflect your policy? If so, then those of you in charge ought to be flogged at noon in the middle of the town square.

However, a more constructive alternative would be for you to re-examine your guidelines for road work during severe weather, and to make whatever changes are necessary in order to put the public’s interests ahead of your own.

Potential Chase Day on Sunday

With an active weather week underway across the CONUS, I’m casting my eyes on Sunday for a possible first excursion chasing storms this year. The GFS and ECMWF both paint a potent system moving through the Plains and Midwest. The GFS is typically the faster of the two solutions, but timing aside, both models agree that things are going pop weatherwise.

Much as I’d like to chase out west Saturday, I can’t, so I’ll leave analyzing the weather for that day to those who can take advantage of it. But Sunday looks poised to deliver the package to my backyard. I have a very large, multi-state backyard when it comes to chasing storm, and right now the prospects for something within a day’s reach seem pretty decent.

I don’t have time right now to include forecast maps, and anyway, we’re still talking six days out, so it’s pointless getting deep into things just yet. But stay tuned. I’ll pin up some maps and soundings as the weekend draws closer. Looks like I got my CTV and iMap live streaming video up and running just in time!

So You Want to Be a Storm Chaser

The long months are here for storm chasers. Winter, the season of convective inactivity. The time some of us love but most of us simply endure. Three months–four, really–lie between now and our favorite time of year when the spring storm season begins to ramp up.

These are not idle months, though, or at least, they shouldn’t be. Now is the time for chasers to be cracking the books, reading papers, doing what they can to hone their forecasting skills. One great tool for achieving that objective has been the chase cases on Stormtrack.

For those not familiar with them, the chase cases are a user-based initiative in which, for a given case, a forum member volunteers to supply suites of data commonly used by chasers to pinpoint their targets. The data is typically gleaned from NOAA archives of actual weather events, with the first batch of maps, soundings, radar, satellite images, and SPC text products usually time-stamped 00Z on the night before the event. Chasers consult the data and determine their initial staging areas, then adjust their positions as subsequent forecast suites are released over time. A typical chase case can take three days or more to complete, depending on how busy the person supplying the data is.

At the end of it all, the players get to check their positions with the final radar images and storm reports and determine how they fared. Since these virtual scenarios are based on actual severe weather events that include verified tornadoes, the value of the chase cases is obvious. Besides being just plain fun, they allow participants to compare notes with what others are noticing in the forecasting tools and how they’re interpreting that information. They really help a person sharpen the razor during the snowy season.

Chase case number 5 ended last night. A northwest flow event, it was a tough nut to crack, and a lot of people busted, including me. At one point, six of us selected Woodward, Oklahoma, as a place to hang out under a boundary. It was a virtual chaser convergence, one of several that occurred on this case, and it got me to thinking. Forty-four people participated in case number 5–not many, given the vastness of the territory actually involved; yet many of us wound up clustering in the same places and wound up on the same storms. My question: What fraction of actual chasers out on a real chase day did we represent? In real life, given a major chase event, you can bet that the number of people pursuing storms would far outstrip forty-four.

It’s no secret that the hordes are increasing rapidly every year. Thanks to media shows such as Discovery Channel’s highly popular Storm Chasers series, what used to be a pretty solitary activity practiced by a relative handful has spiraled into a circus out on the Great Plains. Today it seems like everybody under the age of 30 wants to be a storm chaser, or at least, they think they do.

Far be it from me to separate between a host of yahoos who mistake opportunistic lunacy for the art and science of chasing storms, versus the far fewer individuals whose interest is rooted in something more trustworthy than reality TV. It’s your right to chase storms if you want to, and everybody has to start somewhere. Shoot, I’ve been chasing for coming up on 15 years now, and I still consider myself rather green. Number of years doesn’t automatically translate into expertise. Nevertheless, I’ve seen enough to have formed some opinions about where storm chasing seems to be headed as more and more new blood flocks to Tornado Alley. To those of you who, inspired by what you’ve seen on television, plan on heading to the Plains for the first time this coming spring, I have this to say:

Don’t be an idiot.

I mean it. I’m not saying don’t go. I’m saying, before you go, learn about what it is that you’re getting into. There’s more to it than you realize, and if your knowledge thus far comes from watching a TV series or a handful of YouTube videos, then honestly, you don’t know jack.

Start with this thought: Storm chasing is not about getting as close as you can to a tornado. “Extreme chasing” is a fairly new phenomenon that has been glorified by the media to the point where it has, in impressionable minds, set a new and dangerous standard. But it’s not the historical norm. The reality is, most veteran chasers have generally maintained a safe distance from tornadoes. So banish any images of driving to within 100 feet of a tornado. Hello? It’s a freaking TORNADO. And you’re not Reed Timmer or Tim Samaras. Those guys have knowledge and experience you can’t even imagine, and what you’ve seen of them on TV has been just one highly condensed, scripted, edited, incomplete, and not altogether accurate part of a much bigger picture. Trying to shortcut what is in fact a pretty involved learning curve could easily get you killed or maimed for life.

Getting close to tornadoes is just one style of chasing. I have friends who practice it; it’s a choice they make based on their level of experience and situational awareness, which I respect, and I’m not going to knock them for it. They know the risks. For that matter, I’ve been pretty close myself on a few occasions, not always by choice. Every storm is different. In general, though, keeping a good mile or more between you and a tornado isn’t wimpy, it’s smart.

Enough about that. Here’s my next bit of advice: Respect others who are on the road, and respect locals whose lives can be impacted both by the weather and by your own actions. Chasing a storm doesn’t accord you some sort of elite status to which traffic laws don’t apply. Parking your car in the middle of a traffic lane in order to take pictures of a storm is selfish, inexcusable behavior; either find a damn turnoff or else keep moving until you locate a place where you can pull over onto the shoulder. And driving 30 miles an hour over the speed limit endangers not only you, but others as well, particularly in a rainy storm environment where hydroplaning is a real danger. Last May in South Dakota a bunch of chasers, including me, had to deal with a very pissed-off sheriff whose attitude toward us had been provoked several hours prior by a chaser who blasted past him at 90 miles an hour. The sheriff was preoccupied at the time; otherwise he’d have busted the guy. As it stood, one thoughtless driver gave that LEO a bad impression of chasers in general, and he took his anger out on us. So remember, you don’t own the road. And no, being a rugged, individualistic American citizen doesn’t give you the right to conduct yourself in ways that negatively affect other people.

I could probably have lumped both of my preceding points together by saying, educate yourself and use common sense. First and foremost, learn about storm structure and morphology. Discard any high-octane media images you may have of storm chasing and instead find out what it takes to chase safely and successfully. I highly recommend West Texas storm chaser Jason Boggs’ educational resource site–it’s a gold mine of information. So are severe weather forecasting guru Tim Vasquez’s books, available through his business, Weather Graphics. If you can only afford one book, get The Storm Chasing Handbook. It’s a great introduction to the nuts and bolts of chasing storms.

Storm chasing is an incredible avocation with rewards that extend beyond the beauty and drama of the atmosphere to other dimensions, aesthetic, intellectual, interpersonal, and spiritual. But by its very nature, chasing storms is also a potentially dangerous activity. If you’re going to take it up, the smartest way to go about it is to exercise humility and restraint, and to make learning your priority rather than an adrenaline rush. Pursue that first objective and the second will come in due time.

Be safe. Be smart. Be courteous. The Plains have gotten smaller and more crowded in recent years. How you conduct yourself on them, and the attitude you display, makes a difference for everyone.

Guest Post: Robert Edmonds on Multiple Vortices

The following is an unexpected and interesting guest post from fellow storm chaser and atmospheric modeler Robert Edmonds. Earlier this week I got a note from Robert, and, recalling some of his very cool vortex models that he had posted on Stormtrack, I invited him to submit a guest post. At my suggestion–because Stormhorn.com is written on a popular rather than a scientific level–Robert has taken a concept that I’m certain can be expanded upon to incredible complexity and offered some essential thoughts on it which I think just about anyone can understand.

A bit on Robert’s background. A weather modeler for Mars who works frequently with NASA, Robert possesses a BS in astrophysics and a minor in mathematics, and is currently pursuing a Ph.D. With nine years experience chasing storms, he operates his own business as a storm chasing tour guide.

Without further ado, I give you Robert Edmonds sharing his insights on

Multiple Vortices: Stable and Unstable Configurations

Bob Hartig recently wrote an article titled  “Multiple Vortices: How Deep Do They Go?” Being both a storm chaser and an atmospheric modeler for Mars, I thought I might share some interesting insights about multiple vortices. There is a lot of fascinating physics going on inside multi-vortex tornadoes.

First, however, it might be good to understand the difference between vorticity and circulation. Imagine a boat in the ocean. Let’s say that in this ocean is a giant whirlpool. The boat is circulating about this whirlpool; however, the nose of the boat keeps pointing in the same direction–let’s say, north. Clearly there is circulation because the boat is going around and around the whirlpool, but in the water immediately surrounding the boat there is no vorticity.

Now let’s move the boat closer and closer to the center of the whirlpool while keeping the boat’s nose still pointed north. There is still no vorticity in the water immediately surrounding the boat.

Only when we find the nose of the boat turning is there vorticity in the water immediately surrounding the boat. The boat is now experiencing not only circulation, but also vorticity.

At the following link you will find an applet with two windows: https://stormchaseguide.com/blog.html. The black dots represent locations of concentrated vorticity (places where the boat’s nose would turn). You can think of these dots as multiple vortices within a larger tornadic circulation. What I want to show you is that certain vortex configurations are stable.

First, uncheck the two boxes next to “Running.” This will freeze the motions of the vortices.  Next: In each window there are vortices in a circular configuration. Drag one black dot in each window at most half a mouse cursor length (click and hold). When you’re done, go ahead and click the boxes next to “Running.”

You should find that in the panel with six vortices, the shape or configuration of the dots remains generally the same. However, in the panel with seven vortices the configuration eventually breaks down. This is because circular, evenly spaced configurations with more than six vortices are unstable.

This little demonstration touches on many aspects of weather, not just multi-vortex tornadoes. The chaotic behavior in the panel with seven or more vortices demonstrates why no weather forecast will ever be perfect. The air around us can be thought of as composed of billions, even trillions, of little vortices, all interacting in seemingly random fashion. As you’ve just seen for yourself in the very simplified model, small changes in the atmosphere can produce drastic differences over time–true of both tornadoes and of the larger weather systems that spawn them.

Sax ‘n Wedge: A Life Goal

This last week I was so preoccupied with chasing storms that I hardly blogged at all. When I did, naturally it was about weather. Jazz, music, and the saxophone have languished in the background, at least blogically speaking.

Not, however, in practice. When I headed out west for some dryline action, my horn went with me. It always does. My chase partners know that when I head for any chase over a day in duration, the sax is as much a part of my travel gear as my suitcase, laptop, and camera. Some folks toss a baseball or football while waiting for storm initiation; I practice my saxophone. Any time is a good time to get in a few licks.

I have several reasons for bringing my horn along on chases, all of them having to do with eventualities. The most likely scenario is, as I’ve just said, that I’ll get a chance to woodshed my instrument. Far less likely–but still, ya never know–is the possibility of winding up in some restaurant where a band is playing, and it’s the kind of band that makes me wish I could sit in for a tune or two. Like I said, unlikely; most Great Plains towns aren’t exactly jazz hotbeds. Still, as I learned back in the Boy Scouts, it pays to be prepared.

My main reason for taking my saxophone with me on storm chases, though, is because of a particular life goal of mine: I want to get a good photo, or maybe some video, or even both, of me jamming on my sax while a monster wedge churns away in the distance. For that matter, I’ll settle for just a nice, photogenic tornado of any shape or size. I just want some kind of visual record that captures the raison d’etre of Stormhorn and the essence of who I am as a storm chaser and jazz saxophonist.

Assuming that a storm is moving slowly enough to make a photo shoot practical, my preparations once towers start muscling up are:

* Rain-X windows

* Remove camera from case and make sure it’s ready for action

* Get tripod out of trunk

* Assemble saxophone

Just a handy checklist. Reasonable enough, wouldn’t you say?

So cross your fingers for me, or better still, pray. This season could be the one where I fulfill an ambition and get some very cool photos to show for it.

I’m a maniac, you say? Of course I am. A maniac is just someone with a different kind of dream.

Chase Time! Bound for the Panhandle

Finally! First Great Plains storm chase of the year! As I write, Bill Oosterbaan, Mike Kovalchick, and I are headed west down I-70. In another 30 miles we’ll reach Kansas City; then it’s onward to Wichita, where we’ll overnight. Tomorrow morning we’ll take a look at the models, and then most likely make our way toward familiar territory in the northern Texas panhandle. It has been a couple years since I’ve been there; I can’t wait to see big storms moving over that landscape again.

I’m not going to write much tonight. I’m tired. Last night I got only got three or four hours of sleep, having stayed up till 3:00 a.m. to complete a writing project for a client. My updates will probably brief until I return Sunday. Tomorrow, Friday, and possibly Saturday will be pretty filled with chasing storms and all the pertaineth thereto. When I finally get back home, I hope to have a few great tornado and storm photos to share and an outstanding chase report to post. So stay tuned, campers. This is the first decent chase scenario of the year, and I am geeked to be going after it. Tornadoes, here I come!

Waking Up in Dallas

Morning. I’m still in bed, and from the next room, sounds of family are drifting through the door. I’m in Dallas with my sister Diane, visiting with my brother Brian, sister-in-law Cheryl, and little nephew Samuel. Since the last time I saw him, Sam has transitioned from babyhood to little-boyhood. He has acquired a vocabulary, a white baseball cap that it’s very important to wear (backwards or sideways, as is the custome), and a very cool train set that we played with last night.

My lady Lisa is holding down the fort back in Grand Rapids, where the weather is providing a much cooler contrast to the upper-90s heat that’s on the menu for this week here in north Texas. Chasing storms is of course out of the question. I’ve family to visit, a bit of work to do, and in any case, there are no storms. Summer has hit and the atmosphere is capped as tightly as an oil drum. On Stormtrack, chasers are bidding the 2009 chase season adieu. I note that the SPC has outlooked days 5-6, but they’re not using the kind of language that gets me very excited.

I’m keeping this short. I can hear the sound of forks clicking on breakfast plates. It’s time to shower up and get myself going.

Getting a New Laptop

Last week my four-year-old laptop dissolved into a screenful of horizontal lines. It had been acting squirrely, and with the help and guidance of my ladyfriend Lisa, who is an absolute genius with computers and software, I had already had it partially apart for an inspection. It rewarded our efforts with a total freakout.

A day later, Lisa had the problem fixed. The laptop now seems to be behaving itself, at least so far. The problem may have been mismatched memory cards. Lisa removed one of the cards, and that may have done the trick. We’ll see. I’ve already seen the laptop behave itself beautifully for day after day on previous occasions, only to suddenly start behaving like it’s on drugs for no discernible reason. Sad to say, I just don’t trust it, nor does Lisa. And obviously, whether I’m writing copy for clients on the road or chasing storms, I’ve got to have a laptop I can depend on. It’s part of my livelihood as well as my safety net.

So I finally knuckled under and bought a Dell Latitude. And while I was at it, I bought the extra-tough E6400 ATG. That oughta last me for a while. Shock-resistant. Dust resistant. Moisture resistant. Faster than greased lightning on ExLax. And, I might add, pricey. But if it lasts me five years, I’ll be happy, and it sounds like it ought to.

Meanwhile, if it turns out that the mismatched memory chips were in fact the culprit, and that my old laptop behaves itself from here on, then it should serve as a great backup.

I hate to spend so much money for this new machine. But I’d hate even more to have my radar suddenly break up into a bunch of lines while I’m chasing a tornadic supercell in Kansas. And I have a feeling that this new laptop is going to be a dream. So I guess it’s money well spent. I can’t wait to find out.

Jazz and Storm Chasing: Facing the Trade-Offs

And so it begins in earnest. The 2009 Tornado Alley storm chasing season, that is. Me droogs Bill and Tom left today to chase this weekend’s opening action in Iowa, en route to the main play in the Oklahoma/Texas panhandle region. I couldn’t join them as I’ve got a couple of commitments, including a gig with Francesca Amari tomorrow night plus a search for new living accommodations.

Today’s setup out in Iowa was such that I did’t feel too much like I was missing out on something. The storms have turned out to be massive hail producers (LSR from five miles southwest of Greene: “All hail…very little rain falling”), but not a single tornado report have I seen, not in Iowa, not in Wisconsin, not in the entire CONUS.

Tomorrow and Sunday look to be a different matter, though, and I wish like anything I could be out there with the guys watching tubes drop. But as I’ve said, I’ve got commitments.

It’s funny how my two great passions–playing jazz and chasing storms–can conflict. But that’s how it is. You can’t chase storms when you’re on a gig, though ironically, sometimes the storms have come along and canceled the gig. Three years in a row, I got hailed out at the annual Grand Rapids Festival of the Arts. It doesn’t seem to matter who I’m playing with. I’m a freeking hail magnet, and in June or July, you book me for an outdoor event at your peril.

This year, I’ve actually adopted a policy of not accepting any gigs during the peak storm chasing months of May and June. That’s the time of year when the storm chaser in me outweighs the jazz musician. Tornado weather is seasonal in a way that jazz isn’t. Once those mid-levels heat up and the steep lapse rates of spring give way to summertime’s Cap of Doom, that’s all she wrote. I don’t have the time or money to chase the Canadian prairies. So I’ve got to grab my storm action when it’s prime time. This year, I hope to spend ten days or so in mid to late May out in Tornado Alley. I am looking forward to it so much I can practically taste it!

Meanwhile, Bill and Tom are out there headed for Oklahoma without me. Sniff! Ah, well. I hope those dirty dogs get skunked. No, wait…what I mean is, I hope my buddies see some really great tornadoes and get all kinds of cool footage that they can show me when they get back, causing me to grin in maniacal delight while dying inside.

Okay, let’s try that one more time. The compensation for not chasing is getting to do a gig at One Trick Pony in downtown Grand Rapids with Francesca, Dave, Wright, and Tommie–some truly fine musicians whom I absolutely love to play with. A Saturday night spent playing my sax is a Saturday night well spent, and I can’t wait to hit the stage with Francesca and Friends. If you happen to be in the vicinity, please drop on down to the Pony and give us a listen. You’ll like what you hear. The show starts at 8:00 and continues till 11:00.  Hope to see you there!