STORM TRACK: July 31, 1986 (Volume 9 Issue 5)

The day began like most days in Dallas, Texas. It was muggy and hazy. Dew was on the lawn. South winds brought in gulf moisture. It was peaceful and serene. However, there was a contrast in the sky, I sensed a change. Sunlight flickered through the broken layer of stratocumulus racing northward. It was a strobe effect. It meant that -a low level jet was in place -- the stratocu were fuel for thunderstorms late in the day.

With one eye open I watched A.M. Weather and grabbed a cup of coffee. It was 5:45 a.m.. Many of the parameters for severe weather were there on the weather maps. A dryline in West Texas extended from a surface low in Colorado. An intense upper system was digging into the Rockies. Progs showed little movement over the next 12 hours. A narrow upper level jet arced over the Rockies attaining 125 knots. "It would be a long chase", I said. "Phil and I would have to leave early". After phoning Phil, I began to pack the chase car.

The 8 a.m. weather observations were accessed from the computer terminal, temporarily set up on the kitchen table. We plotted a mesoanalysis which revealed a cloud free area ahead of the dryline from Childress, Texas to Garden City, Kansas. I knew the ground would heat up faster there than in cloud covered areas. The forecasted target town was Childress. Phil and I left Dallas at 9 a.m. and drove steadily northwestward on Rt. 287. We passed through a line of showers which had developed along the west edge of the low clouds near Wichita Falls. Breaking out of the rain, we entered a field of scattered cumulus with a deep blue sky above. "What a classic sky", I said optimistically.

We arrived in Childress after four and a half hours of driving. The temperature was 92 degrees up 9 degrees in the last two hours, the dewpoint was 65 degrees. I plotted a 1 p.m. surface map and called Al Moller at the Fort Worth Weather Service. Al:"Tim, where are ya." Tim: "I'm in Childress." Al: "Ooooh, the moisture convergence models are running circles around Childress, you're right on the dryline." So Phil and I waited.

At 2:30 p.m., the first towering cumulus developed overhead and shot skyward like the trail of cannon fire.

Other high based towers followed; some had small funnels at cloud base. The cluster of growing towers moved north- ward and we followed on Rt. 83. Within an hour, a small Cb formed to the north with a large tower to it's south. The cloud tower appeared like a giant fist punching through the sky.

Static crackled on the radio. Then the weather alarm sounded announcing a tornado watch for the area to begin at 4 p.m.. Seven minutes later, we passed under the shadow of the anvil and the rain free base came into view. The temperature was 87, dewpoint 63, winds south at 30 mph. The shade from the anvil provided a clear view of the cloud structure. There was one large updraft, and a solid, crisp backsheared anvil. We were about 10 miles southeast of the rain free base -in good position with plenty of backlighting.

The sky darkened, the cloud base widened, wrapping laminar cloud bands signaled the onset of updraft rotation. Soon after, another cloud tower formed south of the main updraft around 4:30 p.m. The tower grew to anvil level in ten minutes, then merged with the parent updraft, creating a larger rain free base. It has been our experience that cell mergers have occurred several times just before tornadogenesis. Why, this is has yet to be explained.

We looked for a good place to stop with best visibility. At 5:07 p.m., we pulled off the road onto a grassy knoll and set up the camera equipment. We were about 13 miles south of Canadian on Rt 83. The temperature dropped to 75, dewpoint was 68 degrees. The pavement was wet from recent rains.

Tim: "This storm is taking on supercell characteristics all the time. What a stair-stepped base. Look at that inflow tail! We've just encountered some strong southeast winds at 5:07 p.m."

Phil:"The structure is terrific. Look at those spiral bands!"

Tim: "That's a supercell. There's a distinct cloud lowering over there. (Pause) We've got a dust whirl on the ground. There it is, a TORNADO."

Phil:"Oh yeah, you can see the dust now. First tornados"

Tim: "Tornado on the ground at 5:12, Halleluliah!"

Phil: "Oh my God, look at that! That is trem-(pause) phenomenal.

Tim: "There it is on the ground 2 miles away. There's a dust bowl extending up to cloud base; the wind is blowing into the circulation real good."

Phil: "Gee, look at it go. Perfect funnel shape."

The cameras clattered just like at a presidential news conference. A large rotating dust bowl remained in contact with the ground for three minutes. The circulation ceased abruptly for a couple of minutes, and the wall cloud appeared to reorganize on the east side of the rain free base. Soon after, a condensed funnel stemmed slowly from the back side of the wall cloud. Sides of the funnel were so smooth that rotation was not discernable. The slender tornado resembled the Dallas tornado of 1957. Dust and debris swirled for 20 minutes.

I couldn't think of anything to say. My voice cracked like a broken record: "Tornado, on the ground, Tornado on the ground". I must have said that a hundred times. The tornado moved slowly northward across open range land then turned northwestward as it entered the rope stage. The rear portion of the updraft became eroded and a clear slot became evident finally wrapping and occluding the tornado. Sunlight illuminated the final minutes of the tornadoes' life making it difficult to see due to the lack of contrast. At the same time, a new and larger wall cloud developed rapidly just east of the occluded tornado. We were witnessing the cyclic evolution of tornadogenesis. Hurriedly, we packed the car and drove northward toward the wall cloud. At 5:35 p.m., a large dark blue cone funnel formed on the back side of the wall cloud and touched the ground (without coaxing) about 7 miles south of Canadian. We headed right for it, Phil was driving.

Phil:"There it is, touchdown!"

Tim: "Pedal to the metal.

Phil:"Oh my God!"

Tim: "Tornado city, fat city, keep going. Nice cylinder, keep going."

Phil:"Oh boy. Oh God look at that -- a classic right out of Kansas.

Tim: "Coming over a hill top, what a maxi on the ground."

Phil:"That's incredible. We're getting a little close now Tim."

Tim: "Keep going Phil. Keep going. Ah, we're not even under the wall cloud yet."

Phil:"What a beauty."

Canadian Monster

The third tornado that day lasted 16 minutes and was nearly a half mile wide at the ground. We had excellent visibility and could see it clear to the ground. There was no debris cloud until the latter part of it's life. As the tornado entered the rope stage, it turned northwestward and a clear slot wrapped around. Then the radio blared with the first tornado warning at 5:48 p.m. The tornado dissipated three minutes later.

We headed for Canadian. The power was out, and the sirens' shrill echoed off the canyon walls. Hail up to 2.5 inches in diameter dotted the ground. At 5:57 p.m., a small rope tornado extended from the cloud base without warning one mile northwest of Canadian. It only lasted seconds, enough time to get three slides in rapid succession. We continued to follow the storm for several hours watching it occlude six times but never producing a tornado that we could see. By days end, we shot over 400 slides and took an hour and a half of video.

No matter how many tornadoes you see, each is unique and awesome. Each tornado you see becomes etched in your mind forever. I'll always remember the excitement and the vision of empty film canisters flying into the back seat of the car like spent shells from machine gun fire.