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May 7, 2008 Storms
There's not a pot of gold at the end of the
rainbow, it's a McDonald's. |
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Target Area: SE Oklahoma
Miles Driven: 425
Time: 10 hours
After looking at the forecast and model data at
4:30 a.m., I was wondering if I'd be wasting a day of vacation.
The Tulsa area was getting rain. Just rain. It's not
exciting to chase rain and it appeared the rain would continue all
day.
I began planning my-mid morning
and mid-afternoon naps.
My vacationed morning continued to
burn away and the rain continued to fall, but the forecasts were
changing. Unstable air in southeast Oklahoma caused concern for
weather professionals and
risk levels were being raised.
While keeping a watch on the radar
and forecasts, I sipped my cup of coffee and - just in case - made sure
the camera gear was charged up and ready. You know, just in case.
I wasn't getting my hopes up, but things were beginning to turn around.
At noon I decided to
head south so I'd be closer to the action, if something should develop. I
got ready and moved the equipment from my living room floor to the truck
and headed out. After getting gassed up and stopping for lunch (I
wasn't in a big hurry), I took another look at the radar and noticed
something new, tornado watches were being issued in north Texas
and southern Oklahoma.
At one o'clock I was on my way
south. Target area: Atoka County.
More Rain
Driving south, all I could see
around me was rain. For nearly two hours, light rain, heavy
rain, out-right downpours. I didn't care. I was on my way to
play in the watch box with the other chasers.
South of McAlester the climate
changed. I wasn't driving in rain any longer. The air was warmer and humid. I
was driving into a storm.
Bob's
When travelling, I like to look at
the small towns and take inventory of what sustains the local economy -
the antique stores, roadside diners, farm implement dealers, fruit
stands and such. And there's always one unusual enterprise that
catches my eye.
At the side of the road was a
sign, the letters were hand brushed with black paint on a very large piece of
unfinished weathered plywood, "Bob's Good Junk." I imagined Bob living
in a million dollar estate on the edge of town, shipping his good junk
all over the world. I haven't googled it yet, but I'm sure he has
an e-store where you can buy a dented hubcap for a Desoto. Good
junk.
I didn't stop.
The tornado watch box was moving
north and now included my target, the city of Atoka.
Atoka
Atoka is a nice little city.
Not too small and not too big. Not much to see, sightseeing
wise, but it was nice. I toured the downtown area of older
buildings, probably from the late 1800's and early
1900's. I
looked for one of those hole-in-the-wall diners that are often located
in a historic downtown area. You know, a local favorite where you can almost see a
town
resident sitting there eating his supper after a long day on the farm.
I didn't find one. I did find, however, that stop signs in Atoka are only a
suggestion.
A near miss.
It's always a good idea to keep a
gas tank full when you're out chasing. So, I stopped at the
convenience store/gas station next to the Wal Mart. Yep, they have
a Wal Mart.
$3.59 per gallon.
Damn oil
companies.
My plan was to hang around Atoka
until the storms moved north and to me. But tornado warnings were
being issued southwest of Durant now, and I didn't want to wait any
longer. My chase had quickly turned into a quest!
I headed for Durant.
South of Atoka, I spotted developing storm clouds to the west. I
left the main highway and drove down a gravel road past multi-million
dollar houses (one of them had to be Bob's) and followed the curving
road around the trees allowing a better look.
The clouds were darkening and getting bigger, but weren't severe yet.
With the help of Microsoft Mary,
the GPS system voice, I found my way back to the southbound lanes of the highway.
The NWS was now reporting heavy rain, hail and
60 mph winds in the storms to the south of me.
Caddo
I arrived at the Dairy Queen at
Caddo just before it hit, and hit it did. The truck rocked
violently and, at one point, I thought the wind was going push the F150
back down the hill.
Why would they build a Dairy Queen
on top of a hill in tornado alley?
Caddo is very small. No, I
mean very very small. Population: 950. The area of
the city covers a whole 2 1/2 square miles. I actually got a
little nervous when a patrol cruiser with the words "Caddo Police"
printed on the side slowly drove by. The gruff looking town
constable locking in on the stupid storm chaser sitting on top of a hill
during a severe thunderstorm. You know, deliverance
nervous.
I had a choice. I could turn
left and drive right into the storm or turn right, take my chances with
the Caddo official and try to outrun it. I turned right.
Marking their property line, Caddo
has a rusting steel mesh "Welcome to Caddo" sign high above the ground
curving across the road, supported on both sides with the same steel
mesh material. A kind of drive-through structure seen at
the entrance of an old cemetery.
I got the hell out of Dodge...ummm...Caddo.
I'd travelled down highway 22 for
quite a while before I felt safe again. Safe from the winds on the
hill, and safe from possible 1880's style incarceration. And even
though I'd turned right to avoid the storms, I drove right into the
heaviest rains I've ever experienced. At this point, I just wanted
to get to Hugo, connect with the Indian Nation Turnpike and go home.
Tornado warnings were
issued. But, they weren't issued for Bryan County. The
warnings were for Tulsa.
The Journey Home
By the time I arrived at the
turnpike entrance, the rains had stopped. I rolled down the window
and took a deep breath of the rain scented fresh air that filled the
cab. I turned off the weather band on the CB I had listened to for
several hours, and enjoyed the peace and serenity I planned to sustain
for my journey back home.
As the sun began to set behind the
remaining shards of clouds, I pulled into the Turnpike McDonald's,
parked, and called Tulsa. A squall line had developed and was
moving through the Tulsa area producing heavy rain, strong winds and,
yes, tornadoes.
I counted 4 other storm chase
vehicles on the lot. The occupants were probably discussing the
"bust run" they'd just been on. Was it a bust?
During the drive home I thought
about chasing and why I don't really consider myself a hard-core "tornado
chaser." Although the target is usually a tornado warned area, I
don't think the actual tornado is why I do what I do.
Witnessing an Oklahoma sunset
mixing with the remnants of a powerful storm reminded me of the reasons
I chase. I chase storms to explore the small towns in rural
America, to meet the real people who reside in them, and to find beauty
in a storm's violence. This day, I had accomplished all of that.
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