Year of the Cap Bust

I guess I’m just a slow learner when it comes to technical stuff that involves linear thinking. Sooner or later, though, if I stick with something long enough, I usually emerge more knowledgeable for having done so. Nowhere has this been more true than in storm chasing, an activity which obviously depends heavily on figuring out if and where there will be decent storms to chase.

Seems like I’m constantly being confronted with some new aspect of the atmosphere that I haven’t factored into my forecasting, or that I haven’t factored in as effectively as I needed to. The upside of that, though, is that I wouldn’t even be aware of what I don’t know if I hadn’t learned enough to at least recognize my areas of ignorance. If my forecasts aren’t as expert as those of a trained meteorologist, they’re nonetheless a seven-league bound beyond when I was just beginning to grapple with all those arcane terms and acronyms of convective weather such as SBCAPE, CIN, 0-6km bulk shear, LIs, helicity, and lapse rates, and when the only thing I could do with a skew-T or a hodograph was shake my head in bewilderment.

This has been the year of discovering the 700 mb/12C limit. By “discovering,” I mean through empirical experience, and by “empirical experience,” I mean cap busts. Of course, I’ve endured plenty of cap busts in my development as a storm chaser; I just didn’t understand exactly what was going on, or why the high risk area I was sitting in was producing nothing more than smug blue skies rather than carnivorous supercells.

One memorable day in Iowa drove home the lesson perfectly. MLCIN was supposed to erode by later in the afternoon, and it got to a point where it was eroding, at least according the RUC. With SBCAPE at some ridiculous figure like 7,000 j/kg, I figured that at some point a convective tower would punch through the cap and go absolutely gonzo. Instead, the clouds kept firing up into the nicely sheared environment and then dying, firing and dying, firing and dying. The reason? A 700 mb temperature of around 14C, possibly considerably higher. Lesson learned: it doesn’t much matter what the models have to say about the CIN eroding when you’ve got mid-level temperatures like that.

I experienced another cap bust yesterday, though I can’t feel too bad about it since I had no compelling reason to head out in the first place, the conditions were so marginal. It was interesting to notice that in this situation, the circumstances were reversed: RUC showing my area under very breakable 700 mb temps of around 10C, but with MLCIN creating some concern. However, the CIN appeared to be eroding, and when an SPC mesoscale discussion spotlighted the area I was in, I started feeling happy about having made the drive down to west-central Illinois.

But the CIN started building back in, and by 00Z I found myself socked in under values around -300 j/kg. Not much a parcel of air can do with that, I guess, no matter how big the CAPE is. I turned around and headed home.

A paper by Bunker, Wetencamp, and Schild of the NWS in Rapid City, South Dakota, explores the ins and outs of the 700 mb/12C limit and concludes that it has a limited, conditional application. However, as my buddy Mike Kovalchick pointed out to me, the paper also reveals that only 5 percent of tornadoes within the study period formed when H7 temps exceeded 12C, and virtually no violent (EF4 and EF5) tornadoes occurred above that threshold.

So for practical use in storm chasing, the 12C limit appears to be a very useful rule of thumb. The issue for me then becomes a matter of refining my ability to know when cold air advection will lower the 700 mb temps. But that’s a subject for another blog. I’m tired of thinking. It’s time to go meet my buddy Dewey down in Plainwell and grab a brew at Arie’s. Ciao!

The Tornado Fest That Wasn’t

Now that Sunday’s brouhaha in Tornado Alley is over and done, the big question seems to be, where were all the tornadoes? The turnout was there, the fans were waiting, but besides the rope and the wedge/multivortex/stovepipe that my buddies Bill and Tom witnessed near Crawford, Oklahoma, in company with a multitude of other chasers, there just wasn’t anything to make postcards out of. The big show never showed. Even the lone supercell that wandered north out of Texas into Oklahoma’s higher helicities never produced, despite its lack of competition. Oh, there were a couple of twisters in Kansas, and with a tally of four, Iowa had the most reports of all. Ironically,  it wasn’t even in the PDS high risk area.

This is by no means to criticize the crew at the SPC; those are some highly adept meteorological minds, the finest in the world. No, it’s just to muse at the vagaries of the weather. Rudimentary as my own forecasting skills are, I’ve nevertheless come to realize that no matter how good a forecaster one becomes, the weather is still the weather. Capricious. Subject to subtleties that no one gives weight to until after the fact. The butterfly beats its wings and a tornado fires up in Texas–or a seemingly volatile setup falls apart.

Judging from the YouTube videos and the photos posted on Stormtrack, a lot of people managed to be in the right place at the right time for the one storm in Oklahoma that did produce a couple very photogenic tornadoes. But the event was a far cry from high-risk mayhem.

Guess I can’t feel bad about that, since I was sitting at home nursing a chest cold while my mates were out there roaming the Plains. The cold now seems finally poised to start breaking up, and hopefully in another day or two I’ll feel halfway human again. It’s just as well that I get this nonsense out of the way now, so I’m up to snuff physically in a couple weeks when my buds and I head out to the Alley for an extended tour. I hope that by then, there won’t be any lack of the right ingredients in the atmospheric brew to make the trip worthwhile.

First Storm Chase, 2009

What a memorable way to kick off storm season 2009! Yesterday, I chased supercells in Kansas with my buddy, Bill Oosterbaan, and today we attended Tim Vasquez’s severe weather forecasting workshop in Norman, Oklahoma. I’m writing this post from a Best Western Hotel maybe a mile north of where the 1999 Moore tornado crossed I-35. All in all, not a bad past couple of days for a lad from Michigan.

Yesterday’s chase began with a visit to Picher, Oklahoma. The southern portion of this tiny town got wiped out last spring by an EF-4 tornado. Today, a year later, that desolate landscape shows scant chance of recovery. It’s a sobering place to visit.

But that’s another story for a different post. Right now, I just want to share a couple images from yesterday’s chase. The moisture was marginal, with dewpoints averaging around 55 degrees up toward the warm front north of Wichita. That’s where we headed, in search of the better helicities. A lot of folks questioned the setup, but it produced. The storm we intercepted put out four tornadoes, though those occurred before we caught up with it. We still saw some nice structure, including a nice wall cloud and a funnel. Check ’em out.

Funnel Cloud

Funnel Cloud

Nice Structure!

Nice Structure!

Severe Weather Forecasting Workshop and Southern Plains Drought

It’s Thursday, and I’m in Louisville, Kentucky, with my buddy Bill. He’s got business here, and I’m taking care of business here on my laptop, and then we head to Norman, Oklahoma, for a severe weather forecasting workshop with Tim Vasquez. At times like this, I’m grateful for the freedom and mobility that come with being a freelance writer. As long as there’s work for me to do, I can do it pretty much anywhere provided I have my laptop and Internet access.

I’ve been hoping to catch a little early-season convective excitement this Saturday. Not sure that’s going to happen, though. The wild card seems to be moisture, but capping may also be a problem. It would be a shame to make the journey to Oklahoma and not see a little decent, Great Plains weather. Of course, that’s not the focus of the trip–the forecasting workshop is–but still, a supercell or two would be nice. Unfortunately, it looks like a cold front will provide the lift that finally busts the cap, and that suggests “linear.”

Sunday is the workshop, so I don’t much care what the weather does that day. I’ll be in class.

Monday may offer another crack at things, and it may be our best opportunity. It’s too far out to say (for that matter, Saturday is still a bit too far off yet to feel either good or bad about it), but assuming that the southern Plains at least get a bit of rain to relieve their dry spell and give the ground a good soaking, moisture may not be the question mark that it is for Saturday’s setup.

Frankly, the current forecast discussion on Stormtrack is the first time I’ve given serious thought to the effect of soil conditions on convection. I had always thought of ground moisture and evapotranspiration as just enhancements to the return flow, not potential deal-breakers. To my mind, a nice, deep low pulling in rich dewpoints from the Gulf of Mexico would more than compensate for dry regional conditions. But more than one seasoned Great Plains storm chaser has looked at the current drought conditions in Texas and Oklahoma and opined skeptically about the chances for 2009 being a good chase year in the West unless the region sees some rain.

Ah, well. The season hasn’t even begun yet, so I’ll take what I can get and hope for better as we move into May and June. Right now, it’s nice to simply see the sun shine, feel fifty-degree temperatures, and know that winter is drawing to a close.

Monte Montgomery Concert Tomorrow Night

Whew, I have let waaaay too much time elapse since the last time I posted an entry in this blog. Let me mollify you with a nice, bright, sunny image from this cold, early March day. The following photo is one of a number that I took out at Pickerel Lake near Grattan Township in east-central Kent County. It’s a beautiful area, and with spring rapidly rolling in, today was a great day to capture the beauty of the icy landscape while I still can.

Pickerel Lake

Pickerel Lake

Cold as this day has been, there’s no question that warmer weather is moving in. By Thursday, temperatures here in the Grand Rapids area should be in the forties. But I won’t be here. I’ll be with my storm chasing buddy Bill down in Louisville, Kentucky, where he’ll be meeting with some of his clients while I do my own business on my laptop. Then from Louisville, we head out to Norman, Oklahoma, for an all-day severe weather forecasting workshop with Tim Vasquez on Sunday. I’m really looking forward to it!

On the way out there, I hope to catch some early season action. The GFS is calling for a low to be positioned in Colorado or somewhere out there, and with a little luck, we’ll see the right combination of moisture, lift, and kinematics to make life interesting somewhere between Louisville and Norman. Arkansas looks likely. We’ll see.

More immediately, and on the musical side of things, tomorrow night is the Monte Montgomery concert at the Intersection in downtown Grand Rapids. The concert got rescheduled from its original date last September due to illness, and now the time has arrived.

I’ll be playing with the Ed Englerth band as the opening act for Monte.  We rehearsed last night and sounded tight, and today I took my horn to the shop and got a leak tightened down, so all in all, I feel good about playing tomorrow.

If you’re in the neighborhood, come on out to the concert. Ed’s material is strong, and if you’ve never heard Monte, prepare to be stunned. The man is a brilliant guitar player, rated one of the all-time top 50 by Guitar Player magazine. The show starts at 7:00 p.m. Admission is $10 (cheap!),  and worth every penny. See my events calendar for more details.

Blowing Strong: National Storm Chaser Convention and a Great Gig with Francesca

What a fun and interesting weekend this has been! I had the rare pleasure of indulging both of my two main passions in life, storm chasing and playing jazz.

Fellow chasers Bill Oosterbaan, Kurt Hulst, and I got together Saturday at Bill’s house and spent the day watching live, streaming video of the eleventh annual National Storm Chaser Convention in Denver, courtesy of SevereStudios.com. When 6:30 rolled around, I broke away and played a gig at One Trick Pony in downtown Grand Rapids with Francesca Amari. The engagement was a blast and we were well received; tunes included a vocals-sax duet on “Good Morning, Heartache,” as performed on Francesca’s new CD, Better Days. Then this morning, I got together with Bill again and we watched the rest of the conference.

The entire conference was great, but from my perspective, the last part was the best. This included talks by Dr. Greg Forbes, Jon Davies, and Rich Thompson on forecasting and mesoscale analysis. I learned a couple things that will definitely be helpful for this coming chase season, which is just around the corner.

All in all, a most enjoyable couple of days. I finished by spending an hour or so practicing my saxophone, which is performing beautifully for me after coming back from the repair man.

Another point of interest: I’ve been invited to put together a little unit to play for the Thornapple Jazz Festival on April 17, hosted by the Thornapple Arts Council of Barry County. I’m excited about this, and pleased that the festival coordinator, my friend and fellow jazz musician Joe LaJoye, thought to ask me. I’ve already got two standout players lined up for my rhythm section, and am considering whom I’ll use for the last one.

Lots going on, and much of it good. Today it snowed, but with temperatures in the thirties, even the cold weather is warmer than it was a few weeks ago. From storm chasing conferences to jazz festival invitations, there are signs that spring is on the way.