May 16th,
2017 was a day fraught with perils from Mother Nature. However, the horror of
my experience was due to man-made errors. I learned an important lesson on this
trip; don’t take car problems lightly.
The morning began at our hotel in Pampa, TX. The SPC had upgraded their convective
outlook to a moderate risk for the eastern half of the Texas panhandle into far
western Oklahoma. The dryline had migrated east overnight. A new surface low
appeared to be developing in far southwest Kansas, and it seemed as if it were
going to move little throughout the day.
Forecast
models showed the largest activity breaking out down south near Childress. A
large helicity swath crossed the Red River into Oklahoma. I decided early that
this was going to be a logistical nightmare, as most chasers would flock to
that region, and the river crossings were limited. My own forecast set me north of I-40 between Canadian and Wheeler.
We
arrived in Canadian, TX around late morning, and spent a fair bit of time at the
local Dairy Queen. I continued to mull over weather data from that morning to fine-tune
my forecast for the afternoon. Veteran storm chase Jeff Piotrowski joined us
briefly and I discussed the setup with him. It looked like a textbook day for
multiple tornadoes. We also took a little time to check out an old iron bridge
that was a bit of a landmark.
As the
afternoon progressed, storms started to rise above the horizon. Skipping some nearby
storms to the north, we planned to head south instead. The environment seemed
better suited to tornadoes closer to I-40.
The
first scare of the day came when I turned the ignition key in my car. Nothing
happened. Thankfully an auto shop was open next-door. The attendant there was
gracious enough to step out and work with it for a few minutes. He got the car
to start, and told us what he thought the problem was. After getting
instructions on how to keep the car starting, we went on our way. We decided to
head to Oklahoma City to get the car checked out after the day’s chase ended.
Our
forecast was on the mark. The southern storms grew rapidly, and soon tornado
warnings were being posted. We were on the right road to intercept the best-looking
storm on radar. We met the storm on highway 273, south of the town of McLean. Many
other storm chasers were gathered here too. A mobile Doppler radar was on a
nearby hill.
Soon
the southwest edge of the storm came into view. Low, dark clouds stretched
across the southern sky. This apparently rain-free portion of the storm held a
nasty secret though. Tennis ball sized hail slammed down on the car. I laughed
anxiously at the sudden onslaught, hoping the windshield would stay intact.
During
the barrage, a funnel stretched down from the clouds. It seemed to just hang
there for the longest time, unwilling to descend all the way to the ground. Finally,
it started to dance along the open prairie, narrow and delicate. After a few
moments of teasing the Earth, it filled out, growing large and stubby.
Rain
started enveloping the tornado shortly after it grew larger. I made the
decision to move up the road a few miles after it vanished into the rain. Once again,
we turned the key, and nothing. Panic set in this time. We scrambled to figure
out what was wrong. It seemed there was nothing we could do on the spot.
To my
surprise, the tornado emerged from the rain a few minutes later. It was long
and spindly, in the final moments of it’s life. I stopped messing with the car
for a few minutes to get some photos and video as it deteriorated.
I
called AAA for a tow. We sat on the side of the road as chaser after chaser
passed us by until the road was empty once again. The ominous storm clouds
rolled on to the northeast and sunlight returned.
The tow
truck arrived an hour and a half later.
“Did
you see the tornado?” asked the driver. I replied that I had.
It was
a mostly uneventful ride to Amarillo. News of a tornado striking the south side
of Elk City, OK popped up on social media. Our driver mentioned that he had a
brother in Elk City, and called to make sure he was fine.
We
dropped my car off at the Hyundai dealership in Amarillo and stayed in a hotel
across the street. The car was diagnosed two days later. The starter had been
staying engaged and burned out the entire ignition system. It was a quick fix,
but cost me a grand. It was my most expensive tornado ever. That evening I
discovered that the storm that had produced the tornado at McLean had also put
down a large, rain-wrapped tornado very near Wheeler. The southern end of my
target had panned out.
But not
all news was bad. The dealership took care of what they called a few recalls.
It turns out those recalls amounted to an engine rebuild. About $3000 worth of
work for free. At the end of the day, I couldn’t complain.
