Tornado Chasing For Dummies -- Wild Ride 2008

*Blogger's note: two prior storm chases this year were rather unproductive, if amusing in my fumbling, stumbling-into-stuff kinda way. Yet, even in the midst of plenty...*

Wednesday, June 11, 2008. Remind me to compliment the National Weather Service's Storm Prediction Center online. They convinced me it might be profitable to venture into east/central Kansas, on a storm chase. Despite the distance, the prohibitive price of gas, and the fact that it's Kansas. Miles and miles of boredom, oh my.

It was a long, increasingly hot journey, from Lakewood, Colorado, to Hays, Kansas. And at around $4.00/gallon gasoline, it was a pricey venture, even in my fuel-efficient Saturn. I almost had to put my pet rock Seymour up for collateral for gas when I stopped over in Colby to refuel. And things weren't looking so good -- bright, unthreatening skies, very unstorm-like -- as I got there.

But the good folks at the NWS SPC aren't there to delude goofs like me into ultimately expending three tanks of increasingly pricey gas for nothing. I ventured on east, past Hays, seeking enlightenment. Past Hays and before Russell, Kansas, what I was seeing ahead and to my southeast was suggesting that the trip wasn't wasted, baby: the skies were turning nasty.

Beautifully so, if you're cracked like me.

I parked off the highway for a spell, and sought out a radio station that might have a weather update; one on the AM dial (it might have been 1070am) reported possible tornadic activity near a place called Olmitz. A place I didn't initially find on my map (not realizing it was about 35 miles south and west of where I currently was, outside of Bunker Hill, KS). I decided to advance a bit more eastward, and bailed off the highway to sit and await developments at about mile marker 216, a bit northwest of Ellsworth, KS, and a place where I had a road net to flee..er...head north or south on, as well as east/west on I-70, in case conditions warranted. I parked on the north side of the interstate, and awaited developments.

Unknowingly, I'd parked myself in a the kind of place I'd been trying to get to. Sort of.

As the skies got gnarly in a enthralling kind of way, other reports began to surface: severe thunderstorms in Barton and Ellsworth Counties; a tornado reported north and northeast of Claflin; another reported near Holyrood and Lorraine. I was keeping busy with my map, when I found the places noted. I noted the track of the reported storms.

S/SW of me and coming my way.

Fool that I am, I elected to sit tight. I had my nose pointed south, in case a quick exit was called for, but I wanted to see what was lurking to the SW.

Whatever might be lurking, a cow-peeing-on-a-flat rock rain opened up, cutting badly into my visibility to the south. Then came a report of a possible tornado NW of Ellsworth; only nine miles SE of me! Unfortunately, I couldn't see it; the rain was coming down in sheets, and hail was becoming part of the mix. But I suspected something might be nearby, as the winds were getting downright stout. Even though the hail was only pea-to-nickel-sized, it was hitting my vehicle with a force that could only mean very strong winds.

My excitement level was rising, as was the strain on my sphincter, all based on my inability to see much more than yards away from my vehicle. With the winds rising as they were -- I now guesstimated the winds blowing in excess of 50 mph -- if IT was out there, IT was shielded from my vision by the virtual monsoon. Whether it was a rain-wrapped tornado, or just damaging winds from a strong thunderstorm, I couldn't see sh...er..squat to take a photo of my quarry, unless it waltzed up and introduced itself. Great for a photo, but bad for getting me and the Saturn back home in two relative pieces. Besides, I don't know any waltz steps.

I never saw IT, nor do I know if IT was closer than I wanted IT to be; by the time the fury of the local storm had passed, I was hearing about warnings both east and NE of me.

This annoyed me greatly. I went on east and then north for a spell, in time to hear about a tornado warning for a town in Ottawa County; a quick check of the map showed me in Ottawa County, but about 12-15 miles SW of the reported tornado sighting. Which, from my vantage point, I couldn't see.

About this time, I kinda knew how General Patton felt: the whole vicinity full of tornadoes, and I'm left OUT OF IT?? Eh..it makes sense if you saw the movie, and I digress.

It was beginning to rain again -- hard -- with more of that pea-sized hail, but before I took cover in the shelter of my now thoroughly unamused Saturn, I got a photo of what I believe was a funnel cloud, a few miles to my north (see above). But only one: the skies opened up again, and visibility dropped to yards again.

I was about 425 miles or so from home by now, and I wasn't equipped to chase at night. One stinking photo for 425 miles. Grrrrrr.

With reluctance...and a bit of an urgent need to relieve the spinchter...I turned about for the long ride home. The highlight of which was the chocolate shake I bought in Colby, along with tank #3 of precious, Seymour-collateral gasoline. If ever oil was rightly called black gold, it's nowadays.

I suppose I could have mounted a sail on the Saturn, and saved some on the fuel usage. Then again, the savings would have been wiped out by my having to drive home from Tennessee.

The next day, I went online and learned what I'd been in the middle of, out there west of Salina, Kansas. Some will probably say I was lucky, not to have wound up a more interactive part of it.

Perhaps true. I just think that after about 850 miles, about $110 worth of gas, and getting the snarf beat out of me in a severe thunderstorm, I can't say that one friggin' photo of a funnel cloud was exactly what I had in mind.

But it sure was a wild ride for a time.