by Brian Engelmann, Intern, RPA
The tornado that hit Westchester County last night and the tornado warnings in New Jersey show that the spinning tops of terrible wind are not unknown in these parts. Still, the Tri-state area is not renowned for having twisters. For that, you must go to the flat plains of Kansas, Nebraska, Texas and other parts of this country's West and Midwest.
And it is to those parts I headed a few months ago, when I used some of my precious vacation time to join a 10-day prepackaged group called Tempest Tours. Such a title was not a metaphor for a week of wild partying in the Caribbean - quite the contrary. Tempest Tours actually attempts to lead its members on a tour of the deadliest and fiercest storm on earth on a square foot basis: the tornado.
Despite last night's tornado, which according to news reports knocked down trees and picked up a police car, twisters are not a typical problem for the Tri-state area. But global warming is changing weather patterns. More hurricanes and tornados in the Northeast are one of the possible future scenarios. I'd like to say that such broad concerns were foremost in my mind as I headed west, but in truth I mostly wanted to satisfy a long fascination with these demons of the weather system.
Oklahoma City was our base, where tour guests from around the world gathered. Out of sixteen tour guests, five were from the United States, six from the UK, three from Canada, and two from the Netherlands. Our four tour guides, who included professional meteorologists, were responsible for choosing the next day's destinations.
To these guys, the Midwest was an open book. Wherever the best region for severe storms was forecasted, that was the next day's travel destination, even if it meant 500 miles. While we guests relaxed in hotel rooms, the tour guides sweated over computer forecasting models, desperately trying to pinpoint the area at highest risk for severe storms. The next morning we would pile into vans, and race into the areas with the worst weather.
Over the next week, weather was frustratingly beautiful. We saw some mountain thundershowers in New Mexico and Colorado. Later in the week, we drove to Southwestern Nebraska, where we caught up with some stunning day and night lightning shows, but again, no twisters. Although we kept re-assuring each other that we'd see a tornado, frustration was growing as our tour days became numbered.
Four days before the tour ended, our long-awaited thirst for cloud-to-ground rotation was quenched. A massive squall line of storms formed to our west as we traveled through central and into eastern Nebraska. We caught storm after storm until finally we spotted a large dust cloud, with a small brown concentrated swirl just beyond the tree line. With my video camera in one hand, and picture camera in the other, I braced myself against the winds, snapped pictures, and watched in awe. I hung tight as the wheat field in front of me was engulfed by the advancing dust cloud. The winds howled and lightning danced across the sky above.
A loud shout from the guide signaled us to jump in the vans and follow the storm. We did so, and soon found ourselves passing though the small town of Meadow Grove, where tornado sirens wailed. A chill traveled down my spine, as I knew this meant imminent danger. Trees were moving wildly in the crosswinds as we approached open fields once again, where the mass of dust was very large and the tornado undistinguishable. The dust cloud eventually weakened and spread out as a disorganized windstorm. It was over, and we had done it! We had seen our first tornado.
And it wouldn't be our last. A few hours later, we followed another tornado, which we spotted from the top of a hillside. At one point, we watched the dark, low-lying rotation blow across the road directly in front of us, a roaring mass of debris. Afterwards, we did what anyone would do; we looked for a place to eat.
The following day, we saw some more great storms. We stayed 90 miles east of Chicago that night, and drove all the way back to Oklahoma the next day. Along the way we observed a storm that had an enormous cloud structure that rose 50,000 feet into the air, while the sun set over it and yielded beautiful colors and patterns. The next day, in the blistering heat, I caught my flight from Oklahoma City to Newark.
Back in my native New Jersey, I often keep myself informed of tornado occurrences. Last night, I did not have to venture far. Despite my love of storms though, I hope tornados mostly stay in Nebraska, and that New Jersey, Connecticut and New York never become the new "Tornado Alley."
The tornado that hit Westchester County last night and the tornado warnings in New Jersey show that the spinning tops of terrible wind are not unknown in these parts. Still, the Tri-state area is not renowned for having twisters. For that, you must go to the flat plains of Kansas, Nebraska, Texas and other parts of this country's West and Midwest.
And it is to those parts I headed a few months ago, when I used some of my precious vacation time to join a 10-day prepackaged group called Tempest Tours. Such a title was not a metaphor for a week of wild partying in the Caribbean - quite the contrary. Tempest Tours actually attempts to lead its members on a tour of the deadliest and fiercest storm on earth on a square foot basis: the tornado.
Despite last night's tornado, which according to news reports knocked down trees and picked up a police car, twisters are not a typical problem for the Tri-state area. But global warming is changing weather patterns. More hurricanes and tornados in the Northeast are one of the possible future scenarios. I'd like to say that such broad concerns were foremost in my mind as I headed west, but in truth I mostly wanted to satisfy a long fascination with these demons of the weather system.
Oklahoma City was our base, where tour guests from around the world gathered. Out of sixteen tour guests, five were from the United States, six from the UK, three from Canada, and two from the Netherlands. Our four tour guides, who included professional meteorologists, were responsible for choosing the next day's destinations.
To these guys, the Midwest was an open book. Wherever the best region for severe storms was forecasted, that was the next day's travel destination, even if it meant 500 miles. While we guests relaxed in hotel rooms, the tour guides sweated over computer forecasting models, desperately trying to pinpoint the area at highest risk for severe storms. The next morning we would pile into vans, and race into the areas with the worst weather.
Over the next week, weather was frustratingly beautiful. We saw some mountain thundershowers in New Mexico and Colorado. Later in the week, we drove to Southwestern Nebraska, where we caught up with some stunning day and night lightning shows, but again, no twisters. Although we kept re-assuring each other that we'd see a tornado, frustration was growing as our tour days became numbered.
Four days before the tour ended, our long-awaited thirst for cloud-to-ground rotation was quenched. A massive squall line of storms formed to our west as we traveled through central and into eastern Nebraska. We caught storm after storm until finally we spotted a large dust cloud, with a small brown concentrated swirl just beyond the tree line. With my video camera in one hand, and picture camera in the other, I braced myself against the winds, snapped pictures, and watched in awe. I hung tight as the wheat field in front of me was engulfed by the advancing dust cloud. The winds howled and lightning danced across the sky above.
A loud shout from the guide signaled us to jump in the vans and follow the storm. We did so, and soon found ourselves passing though the small town of Meadow Grove, where tornado sirens wailed. A chill traveled down my spine, as I knew this meant imminent danger. Trees were moving wildly in the crosswinds as we approached open fields once again, where the mass of dust was very large and the tornado undistinguishable. The dust cloud eventually weakened and spread out as a disorganized windstorm. It was over, and we had done it! We had seen our first tornado.
And it wouldn't be our last. A few hours later, we followed another tornado, which we spotted from the top of a hillside. At one point, we watched the dark, low-lying rotation blow across the road directly in front of us, a roaring mass of debris. Afterwards, we did what anyone would do; we looked for a place to eat.
The following day, we saw some more great storms. We stayed 90 miles east of Chicago that night, and drove all the way back to Oklahoma the next day. Along the way we observed a storm that had an enormous cloud structure that rose 50,000 feet into the air, while the sun set over it and yielded beautiful colors and patterns. The next day, in the blistering heat, I caught my flight from Oklahoma City to Newark.
Back in my native New Jersey, I often keep myself informed of tornado occurrences. Last night, I did not have to venture far. Despite my love of storms though, I hope tornados mostly stay in Nebraska, and that New Jersey, Connecticut and New York never become the new "Tornado Alley."
@RegionalPlan