Are you tired of your suburban hamster wheel life? Do you yearn for the open road, the funk of roadside bars and motels, the crash of thunder, and the chaos of big weather? Well, there is a group of crazed storm chasers out there, living life on the road and always in search of The Big One. And you can ride along with them via this great LA Times profile of Mark Svenvold, author of “Big Weather: Chasing Tornadoes in the Heart of America.” It’s a wild, crowded ride, with storm junkies from all over the world racing around the American Midwest hoping to get sucked into a massive funnel cloud. Here’s the scene:
By 3 p.m., storms are collecting to the left and right of us. A big anvil shape, white flat-bottomed with a puffy soft top, looms over the windshield. It begins a ghostlike spiraling and then fades. Suddenly, it’s as if all the clouds are spiraling. Outside the car, the wind changes. The air is slightly warmer, pouring along at 60 mph, feeding the storm ahead.
The Dopplers are deployed and spinning and triangulating. Gusts tear through tall grass as we pass through Akron, Colo., population 4,662, about 100 miles east of Denver. Every nerve cell has been activated.
“SLCs,” says Svenvold. “Scary Looking Clouds.”
But the storm is having trouble organizing. The convoy stops on the side of the road to watch.
“Just do it,” yells a student, a yellow bandanna tied around his neck. A deep aquamarine section forms within the dark grayness of the clouds, a beckoning, seductive place. The storm is a little more than one mile away. Lightning strikes seem immaterial to the bigger purpose. Someone spots a new base, a new cell forming from the old cell. It’s coming in from the north on a storm moving east. High winds are blowing slushy hail.
“We’re gonna get smacked by outflow in a second,” yells Wurman, and sure enough, a gust of rapidly cooling air swirls around him. It’s not a promising sign.
“It’s a weak rotation,” someone yells.
“Do it! Just do it!” yells the guy in the yellow bandanna, frustration edging into his voice.
And then there is silence.
These guys should try following my 3-year-old daughter, a creator of epic storms and shocking chaos…
The Hunted: A tornado spins toward the ground in Claflin, Kansas… 
The Hunter: “Heh-heh. Too bad the grunts in Iraq don’t have armor like this…”
(Photo 1: Patrick Richardson / AP – Great Bend Tribune; Photo 2: George Wilhelm / LAT)
The Earthist Chronicles 