Bending Rule Number One
Tornadoes are fascinating. When I met my first storm chaser in 2016, I immediately asked her about her encounters with twisters.
But chasers often grow to enjoy a spectacular supercell even more than a tornado. These breathtaking behemoths of the sky can be astoundingly photogenic.
A tornado is a rotating column of air from the ground to the cloud base. A visible funnel depends on condensation that may or may not form before the tornado dissipates. Oftentimes, a tornado is visible only by a mere rotating cloud of dust on the ground.
An unimpressive tornado near Morton, Texas June 5. You can see the dust cloud on the ground but no funnel.
And the light associated with tornadoes is often unfavorable. A dark funnel cloud may be hard to ascertain against an equally dark background. Or they may be wrapped in heavy rain and invisible. Good light that can make or break a tornado image only occurs about 5 percent of the time.
However, great supercell images are much more common.
The Shot
We follow the rules while chasing. And the number one rule is “No photo is worth your life.” So, we maintain a safe distance with one or more clear escape routes.
On June 7, we were near Amistad, New Mexico chasing a supercell. It was the subject of my June 26 Friday Photo featuring a supercell, a bolt of lightning, and the late afternoon sun.
We were traveling to get ahead of the storm to avoid an approaching hail threat. And not just any hail. This appeared to be 3-inch hail by radar.
As we motored down the road, a magnificent sight began to emerge. The transilluminated supercell to our right was something words could not describe. I heard the leader mumble “We shouldn’t stop, but…”
I think we bent the number one rule. Seconds later he told the driver to pull over and the photographers to quickly take pictures (“No tripods!!!”) and to bug out immediately when told to do so.
We rejoiced in the supercell sight of a lifetime for about two minutes. During that time, an ominous rumble increased in intensity.
It was hail roar, the sound of millions of hailstones grinding into each other tens of thousands of feet above us. Once we felt the first drops of rain, we heard “Get in the van now!” and we raced away to safety.
After reviewing the images on our tiny LCD camera screens, we realized how fortunate we were to have witnessed one of nature’s best shows.
Thanks for looking,
Chuck Derus