A Stormy Evening in Stanton

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Last weekend my best male friend, Dewey (aka Duane, aka The Scurvy Rascal), and I headed up to a hunting camp in the backwoods of Kalkaska, Michigan, for a weekend retreat. It was a time of refreshing for both of us: a time of reconnecting and confirming our friendship after a season, for each of us, of being hammered on by life; a time of drinking good craft beer and Scotch whiskey, and eating steaks cooked over an open fire; a time of hunting, and shooting clays, and blasting away with assorted pistols, including my favorite, a model 1911 .45; and a time of prayer, and reading the Bible, and talking about our passion for God, our beloved women, and life in general. A good, good time.

I drove up to Dewey’s home in Stanton Thursday evening. My laptop came with me, but I had suspended my data account with Verizon, and for some reason I was unable to access Duane’s router. With storms in the forecast, naturally I wanted to know what the radar had to show. So Dewey pulled up KGRR on his laptop, and Bingo! A nice line was moving toward Stanton and looked to arrive within a half-hour.

What the heck. I hopped in my car and took off, intent on finding a picturesque sweep of open landscape where I could watch the storm move in. As you can tell from the images on this page, I found one.

The storm was not nearly as formidable as it looks. It provided a nice bit of wind and a brief downpour; mostly, though, it was beautiful and offered a treat for the eyes. The setting sun filtered in low behind the cloud base, shining its rose-colored light through a curtain of rain and illuminating the backsides of gray, steamy towers.

But why am I talking like this? Here, see for yourself. The photos are in sequence; click on them to enlarge them, and enjoy the view.

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October 9, 2011 by
Filed Under: Life, Michigan, Nature, Outdoors, Photography, Storm Chasing, Weather Tagged With: , , , ,

September 3, 2011, Outflow Boundaries

Yesterday morning my friend Kurt Hulst called to say, “Grab your camera. There’s a great shelf cloud coming your way. It passed my location before I could get a picture.”

Okay, then. My apartment faces east, and all I could see was blue sky. Not even a hint that a storm might be approaching from the west, and usually one gets at least some kind of a clue. But I snatched up my camera and car keys regardless and headed outside.

Yes, there it was–a hazy arcus cloud moving my way from the west and northwest. I hopped in my car, with the intention of finding a better view for taking photographs than my parking lot afforded. But the cloud was moving faster than I realized, and by the time I reached 108th Street, it was almost on top of me. So, with the wind kicking up flurries of leaves in front of me, I headed east, thinking to put a little distance between the shelf cloud and me.

Several miles down the road, I turned north, parked by a buffalo farm, stepped out of my car to get a look, and realized immediately that my cause was lost. The cloud was right overhead. It had to have been moving at least 60 mph. So much for weather photos. Within seconds, I was looking at the backside of the arcus, and it wasn’t particularly photogenic.

For that matter, there wasn’t much to it. No ensuing rain, no lightning, no thunder, no storm at all, just blue skies. I can’t speak for other parts of the country, but here in Michigan it is an odd thing to observe an impressive-looking shelf cloud with absolutely nothing behind it! The cloud evidently had formed as the isolated effect of cold outflow from dissipated storms back in Wisconsin, in conjunction with a closer, severe-warned MCS to the north. Back at home, I could see the outflow boundary arching southwest all the way down into Indiana and moving rapidly east.

Yesterday seemed to be the day for such phenomenon to be clearly defined on the radar. Later in the afternoon, GR3 showed a similarly highly distinct outflow boundary down in northern Indiana. The source of this one was easy

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to see: storms to its northwest and north. It looked pretty vigorous, and I wondered if it was putting on a show similar to what I had witnessed.

As an item of curiosity and an example of a highly defined outflow boundary–I suppose you could call it a runaway gust front–I captured a screen shot. Click on the image to enlarge it.

September 4, 2011 by
Filed Under: Michigan, Nature, Outdoors, Storm Chasing, Weather, Weather Radar Tagged With: , , , , ,

Lightning at the South Haven Pier

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Yesterday’s slight risk for Michigan looked more impressive in the models than it did up close and personal. With dewpoints as high as a sultry 78 degrees Fahrenheit in Caledonia (courtesy of my Kestrel 4500 weather meter), MLCAPE upwards of 3,500 J/kg, and 40 knots at 500 millibars, the ingredients were all present for a decent severe weather event. Backing surface flow even suggested the possibility of tornadic spin-ups, though winds at the surface were weak.

For all that, the storms when they finally arrived were pretty garden variety, with one exception: the lightning was absolutely spectacular, a

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nonstop flickerfest bristling with CGs. The lines rolled across Lake Michigan in two rounds. Thanks to some good input from Ben Holcomb, I chose to set up shop at the South Haven beach, a great strategic location, arriving there in plenty of time to intercept round one. Kurt Hulst met me there, and we got our live streams going and tripoded our cameras as the northern end of the line bore down on us.

It was too dark to see the shelf cloud very distinctly. I tried to capture it with my camcorder; I haven’t viewed the footage yet, so I don’t know how it turned out, but I soon realized that I’d be better off working with my still camera, which I got mounted right about the time that the gust front arrived. The rain was near-instantaneous, escalating within moments from errant droplets to a horizontal sheet, and I scurried back to my car while collapsing my tripod as fast as I could.

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What a great light show! After a lot of teasers this year, I finally got a chance to get some good lightning shots, particularly as the storm moved off to the east. With CGs ripping through the air over South Haven, anvil crawlers lacing the sky overhead, and now and then a brilliant bolt tracing a path from the sky to the lake across the canvas of a molten sunset, yesterday evening was a lightning photographer’s dream. Kurt is a great hand in that regard, and he captured some fantastic images. But for once, even I managed to get some shots I’m pleased with. Here are some of my better ones. Click on them to enlarge them.

As the storm moved on, a good number of people returned to the beach with their cameras to capture the amazing sunset and the lightning display. Storm chasers aren’t the only ones with an eye for the drama that the sky provides!

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Some of my photos were taken later on, as the second line of storms was moving toward the shore. I’m particularly pleased with my shot of a lightning bolt off to the right of the pier; it’s a moody, mysterious image, and I intentionally left plenty of dark space at the bottom left.

I might add that the pics with raindrops all over the foreground were taken from my car during the height of the first storm. While I’d of course prefer nice, clear images, I don’t mind the drops. They lend a somewhat Impressionistic feel to the photos. At least, that’s what I tell myself.

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August 3, 2011 by
Filed Under: Michigan, Nature, Outdoors, Photography, Storm Chasing, Weather Tagged With: , , , , , , , , ,

A Real Michigan Squall Line

Man, what a great storm we got last night here in Caledonia! Though actually, I can’t say exactly how it was in Caledonia because I was in my car tracking with the squall line, belting eastward down 100th St in a frenzied attempt to catch up with and outpace the gust front.

I didn’t succeed. Just west of Alden Nash Avenue, a large tree blocked both lanes of the road. Pulling into a driveway, I phoned in a report to KGRR, then managed to squeeze around the treetop and continue on.

Just south of Alto on Alden Nash, traffic was stopped where another large tree had fallen. I turned around and headed east on 76th St only to encounter yet another good sized tree lying on the road. I slid past this one as well, and then, after phoning in another report, completed the big block back into Alto and fueled up at the gas station.

At this point, I had my buddy Bill Oosterbaan on the phone. He was down in Tennessee, but he was following the storm on radar. Since I was chasing sans laptop, I wondered where the line was now located. With I-96 just a couple miles north of me, I had a half-cocked notion that I might still have a chance of catching up with the front of the storm once I hit the Interstate. But Bill informed me that the storm was already halfway to Lansing.

No real surprise there, but nevertheless, nuts. End of chase. Still, there was plenty of lightning crawling the clouds to enjoy. So with my fuel tank replenished, I caught 68th St east and soon found myself once again having to grease my way past a downed tree. Nasty, scraping sound–ugh!

My thoughts turned to Ben Holcomb. Oh, he’d be having a picnic with this system, I thought. Why he ever left this storm chaser’s paradise called Michigan for Oklahoma City I’ll just never understand. Might as well rub some salt into the wound. So I gave him a call, and he told me that he, like Bill, had been tracking the storm front on radar. He informed me that he’d observed base level winds of 88.5 knots on GR2AE. Over 100 mph! Zounds! That, if you please, is one sweet little zephyr. I doubt winds reached quite that speed anywhere on the ground, but we most certainly got one heck of a blow. I’ve encountered my share of trees blocking roads, but I’ve never had my progress consistently blocked by them. Driving through the Alto area last night was like navigating a maze and hitting dead end after dead end.

More weather is on the way later today as a warm front lifts north through Michigan. With 0-6km shear around 55 knots forecast, things could once again get interesting.

September 22, 2010 by
Filed Under: Michigan, Nature, Outdoors, Storm Chasing, Weather Tagged With: , , , , , , , , ,

June 8: Mini-Supercell in Northern Illinois and Severe Squall Line on the Lake Michigan Shoreline

This is really part two of the previous post. After chasing a potent, monster hailer of a supercell north of Saint Joseph, Missouri, I overnighted at a hotel outside of Des Moines, Iowa. When I stepped outside the next morning, the air was much cooler and drier, a stable atmosphere that wouldn’t produce so much as a sneeze, let alone a tornado.

But I knew that the SPC had outlooked the area to my east across northern Illinois, and for several days I myself had been eyeballing my home state of Michigan, where the NAM-WRF had been consistently indicating the possibility of tornadoes. With a little luck, I hoped to make it back in time to chase whatever convection might pop up along the warm front.

As I approached Davenport, I observed  towering cumulus muscling up through the troposphere. However, I didn’t pay them any attention–that is, until Bill Oosterbaan called to inform me that the SPC had just issued a mesoscale discussion for the area just east of me. Even as we talked, I noticed a lowering on a cumulus tower a mile or two to my northeast. When it continued to develop, I decided to investigate. Leaving I-80, I parked across from a truck stop at the Atkinson exit to watch.

The next cell to my west quickly grabbed my attention. It had a nice rain-free base, and as I watched, scud began to form and ascend in an obvious updraft, coalescing into a small, ragged wall cloud. Grabbing my camera and getting out of my car, I noticed right away that the air was very different from back in Des Moines–considerably warmer and with plenty of moisture. The wall cloud fell apart before I could get a pic, but the overall structure remained interesting.

A mini-supercell approaches Atkinson, Illinois, just north of I-80.

A mini-supercell approaches Atkinson, Illinois, just north of I-80.

More brief, non-rotating wall clouds formed and dissipated one by one, so I figured I’d head north of town and observe. With surface winds veering and the overall flow unidirectional, I had no expectation of seeing tornadoes, but the mini-supercell made for some fun and interesting viewing.

Ragged, non-rotating wall cloud.

Ragged, non-rotating wall cloud.

Distant wall cloud and back side of main updraft tower.

Distant wall cloud and glimpse of updraft tower.

I was tempted to follow the storm, but decided it was a red herring. If at all possible, I wanted to make it back to Michigan in enough time to chase the setup there, and that left me no time to play around on the western Illinois backroads. So I headed back to I-80 and busted east.

The first Michigan supercell fired up earlier than I’d hoped, and I bit my lip as I followed its progress on GR3 and watched it hit Lansing. If only I had driven east last night for two more hours, or left in the morning two hours earlier… But the previous day’s chase had left me exhausted. And you know, one of the downsides of being a Michigan-based storm chaser is, you just don’t have very high expectations when it comes to your home state. I mean, it’s Michigan. Home of convective table scraps, squall lines, and embedded supercells that don’t produce squat.

As it was, I watched several more storms fire up and develop rotation along the warm front that stretched across mid-Michigan. I was making decent progress and still had hopes of catching up with some of the southernmost cells. But by the time I crossed the state line, the action all had shifted well to the east, and it became clear that I wasn’t going to see any of it.

Instead, taking fellow chaser Mike Kovalchick’s suggestion, I headed toward the lakeshore at Allegan Beach to intercept a short but potent squall line. I’m glad I did. The backdrop of Lake Michigan and its dunescapes lends a breathtaking drama to incoming storms. The following photos depict the progress of the arcus cloud moving in across the waters. What these images can’t convey is the full, awe-inspiring sweep of cloud, big lake, and shoreline; of the solemn foreboding of some great event about to unleash itself upon a landscape cloaked in storm shadow; of the shelf cloud moving silently overhead like the furrowed eyebrow of a dark, scowling giant; and of sand spray blowing and trees thrashing in the wind as the gust front arrived.

I’ll let the photos tell their story as best they can, and leave the rest to your imagination.

An arcus cloud advances toward the Lake Michigan shoreline at Allegan Beach.

An arcus cloud advances toward the Lake Michigan shoreline at Allegan Beach.

View to the north.

View to the north.

Looking south...the storm closes in.

Looking south...the storm closes in.

Looking north...closer still.

Looking north...closer still.

Almost overhead.

Almost overhead.

One last shot to the north, then it's time to make a dash for the car.

One last shot to the north, then it's time to make a dash for the car.

June 11, 2009 by
Filed Under: Band, Life, Nature, Outdoors, Photography, Saxophone, Storm Chasing, Uncategorized, Weather Tagged With: , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,