Flat land and blue skies in Oklahoma.
Explorations
A Storm is Born
Dispatch 1: Hurry Up and Wait
The wind blows from the south like a steady gust from a blast furnace. The red terrain, flat and featureless, can't divert it. The few trees that inhabit the landscape lean permanently to the north. The sky, bright blue and stretching endlessly behind a Philips 66 gas station and a crumbling diner called the Outpost, doesn't promise much of anything.
But a dryline—an invisible boundary line between dry air from the southwest and moister air from the east—is setting up very near to us outside of Guymon, in the Oklahoma panhandle. The formation of this dryline, and its slow eastward movement, might be enough to spark a storm.
But a dryline—an invisible boundary line between dry air from the southwest and moister air from the east—is setting up very near to us outside of Guymon, in the Oklahoma panhandle. The formation of this dryline, and its slow eastward movement, might be enough to spark a storm.
"Geek Mobile" is what we call this car. Officially, it's Probe 8, one of a dozen or so vehicles in this afternoon's deployment. The parking lot is full of similarly tricked-out cars and vans.
We're waiting for instructions from field coordinator Erik Rasmussen, a research associate at the National Severe Storms Laboratory (NSSL), one of the lead institutions—along with Penn State, the University of Oklahoma, the National Center for Atmospheric Research (NCAR), and several others—involved in the International H2O Project (IHOP). Rasmussen's job is to orchestrate the movements of seven probes, four radar trucks, two research aircraft, a balloon-launching truck, and a camera truck. He does it all from a captain's chair in front of a huge Unix computer inside a big white van called FC, for Field Coordinator. I can see FC on the other side of the parking lot, its antenna raised. Rasmussen is downloading the latest radar images from the computers at the National Weather Service Headquarters, about 280 miles to the southeast in Norman, Oklahoma. Those images will show him the exact location of the dryline. Rasmussen's plan is to set up our radars at the corners of an imaginary box 12 miles on each side, through which the dryline will pass. He hopes. The other vehicles will canvass the area inside the box, collecting data across the boundary as it moves.
"Geek mobiles" ready for action.
Rasmussen's voice—a bit high and tight over the radio—reveals his excitement. He's urging us to stay close to our vehicles so we can hear his messages: "We'll be leaving in the next 10 minutes, as soon as we get the latest information from Norman. Be ready to go." I can see FC lowering its antenna.
Twenty minutes pass. Rasmussen gives another warning not to leave our vehicles. A few stragglers run from the gas station with chips, sodas, and packages of Little Debbie Snack Cakes.
Finally, Rasmussen begins calling out coordinates, and we're off in all directions, each vehicle to its assignment. I'm in Probe 8. Our mission: to traverse the dryline on a country road along the Texas-Oklahoma border.