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!
No comments:
Post a Comment