The Meteorological Pilgrimage

I woke up to mountains, and descended across Lake Michigan this afternoon. Home sweet home. My pup is sleeping in his crate, the little pets are bedded down for the night, and I'll be in my very own bed quite soon. We all know the adage; good to leave, good to come home. I won't miss the Texan convenience food definition of a salad, but I will miss not having to do dishes.

The flight home was uneventful, and I'm happy to say that my trip was bookended by family time upon arrival and before departure, making the case for me to spend more time in Denver (love to Danielle and Alex, and Bebe!). 

I did a lot of musing on the plane. The first chase trip was a test of my mettle; embarking upon an adventure into the unknown with two dozen strangers. The second chase trip was a triumph- just 5 other guests, my first brief tornado, my childhood dream come true. What was this trip, my lucky charm of an adventure with 2 tornadoes, a gorgeous New Mexico storm, and some great new friends?

The third trip was a pilgrimage, an affirmation. I saw unadulterated nature spinning over scrubby land with semi trucks speeding by, honking their horns, the sound of thunder in the distance. The howls and cheers of elation when Roger saw the first tornado on our Ft. Stockton storm, the celebratory margaritas that came afterwards. The shirt I've worn on both tornado days proclaims: I just want to drink wine, save animals, and take naps. I was spiritually fulfilled by this trip. I had already seen my dream-come-true tornado in 2018. There was less pressure to succeed this time, and more to gain.

When I left for my 30th birthday trip 5 years ago, I didn't know what to expect. As I descended into O'Hare's familiar, chaotic, comforting space today, I knew what was to come: 35 will be the year I found my exotic animal rescue. 36- double chai, an auspicious number in Judaism, will be the year I start seriously researching my options surrounding the child/ren I have aspired to adopt since I was an adolescent. Major milestones, my life goals (just like seeing a tornado) affirmed on the prairies and plains and valleys of west Texas and New Mexico.

 I may yet dust off this blog once again in the future, if I decide to begin a new meteorological journey. Only time will tell.

The Wrong Kermit

Yesterday we returned to southwest Texas- in and around La Mesa and Kermit- to observe the storm action that initiated in the mid-to-late afternoon. Once again, these storms were more lookers than doers- no tornadoes were anticipated, but the storm structure was great, and the group enjoyed a lightning show worth of nature's Fourth of July.

 

Since I don't have a camera or intend to invest in associated equipment, I don't have any lightning shots- but my tourmates hit the jackpot with some incredible photos. I lug my binoculars out at every stop, looking for avian life instead, and am content.

 As we departed Kermit, TX (named for Kermit Roosevelt, son of Teddy- not the chipper green frog I was hoping for) to return to Lubbock, the decaying storms gave us a beautiful light show, interacting with the sunset in a gorgeous way that photos just can't capture. With our chase days complete, we are headed up to Amarillo tonight (I knew I'd end up in Amarillo eventually!) to the Big Texan, where I will have the chance to reunite with a margarita so good I remember it with fondness, 5 years later. It comes with a jalapeno garnish and a Texas flag on a toothpick, so it's legit. Tomorrow I imagine we'll be meandering back towards Denver, to bring this trip to a close.

What I love about my third tour- beyond the incredible weather we have experienced- is the group. Instant friendship happened with several chase buddies, and at one point another tripmate said to me last night, "we should take a picture with the cool kids before the end of the tour, right?" HEY, I'm a cool kid! I agreed, of course- naturally.

 

New Mexico Never Disappoints

I first set foot in New Mexico 5 years ago to hike Capulin National Monument on my first chase trip, and as Sunday's chase proved- the Land of Enchantment never disappoints. Yesterday's storms were lookers as opposed to doers, but the group was treated to a high base supercell set in a gorgeous vista. 

The storm formed with the anvil shape and pronounced base typical of the storms we like to see, but the base was too high to produce a wall cloud or tornadic activity. No worries! We disembarked the vans in a valley amongst sporadic, free-roaming herds of cows. I brought out my binoculars and sighted my first ever black-throated sparrow, along with lots of common nighthawks- a species we have at home in Chicago. Locating the source of birdsong with distant thunder in the background was fabulous! We watched our steps carefully in unfamiliar country; no cacti, snakes, or fire ant encounters for this city chick!

I'm particularly pleased with the panoramic view of this storm; it shows how the storm and the terrain in New Mexico compliment each other.

We drove back to Lubbock afterwards, and I've enjoyed a leisurely morning with a workout and time to relax. The environment looks more favorable for storms today, and our target is relatively local. I believe today will be the last chase day of the trip before an inactive severe weather pattern sets in. 

Inner Peace and Profound Joy

I have two days to log, since yesterday the tour group was reveling a little too hard and too late for me to find the energy to write. This is a good thing; it has given me more time to process the incredible day yesterday was.

We departed Lubbock at mid-morning, and drove down to the Ft. Stockton area, with breaks in-between for lunch and to tighten up the game plan. I realized that I was wearing the same shirt I had been wearing when I saw my first tornado in 2018- a good omen. As the land approaches the Rio Grande, the topography becomes more hilly in and around the Davis Mountains. Our storm was born hugging the Mexican border, meandering southeastward as we attempted to navigate a road network that wasn't in our favor...but the setup was! As we navigated into position, all of the variables aligned in a perfect, brief, fierce tornado- over open land. It stuck around just long enough for us to holler and cheer as a group, disembark from the vans, and take confirmation photos before it ascended from whence it came.

 

AND THEN THE STORM DID IT AGAIN. We had just enough time to reposition to a more favorable location while the circulation re-cycled, producing a cone that lasted just a little longer than its predecessor. The group was on top of the moon! As the storm wound down and regrouped, we relocated several times in hope of a tornadic hat trick, and a feeling of profound inner peace came over me. 

My first chase storms in 2018 produced such profound adrenaline rushes that I found myself shaking with cold and feelings in a Woodward, OK hotel room (as mentioned in a previous blog post). This time, in a van with several new and great friends and a perfect two-fer under our belts, I wasn't high on adrenaline- I felt unadulterated contentment. I wasn't hungry or thirsty, I wasn't worried about any other immediate physical needs, I was physically, mentally, and emotionally good. I was doing what I loved with other people who were experiencing the same elation, in the company of trusted experts. There was a sense of camaraderie, safety and security (we were ~15 miles from these tornadoes). 

All of the ingredients and variables needed to produce a thunderstorm mixed well. The meteorological requirements for tornado formation came together. Only 1 in 1000 thunderstorms produces a tornado.  Down from the ceiling of the clouds, a perfect supercell briefly swirled its vortex fingers into the dusty, scrubby nothingness of far southwest Texas. I was in the right place, at the right time, to watch this force of nature steadily emerge and depart, with grace. 

 

As we made our way back to Ft. Stockton in search of celebratory Mexican food, I reflected upon things that have changed in the past 3 years since I saw my first tornado in 2018; I'm a homeowner, I've made a job shift- other things that I described in the first blog entry pertaining to this tour- and I have already accomplished my childhood dream of seeing a tornado. My Memorial Day storm was really just a bonus. I leaned into the feeling of inner peace and joy that had originated with a turbulent, sometimes devastating meteorological phenomenon that had caused no damage or harm. We headed back to town, and I had a celebratory margarita at Pepito's Cafe as the sun set on what was truly one of the best days of my adult life.

I'll write about today's ramblings in southeastern New Mexico tomorrow, so keep an eye out for another update before noon. Time for bed!