Archive for Weather or Not

What’s that in Celsius?

And does it even matter?

To think that I gripe at mere single digits.

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It is, after all, still February

Women of a Certain Age are likely to answer questions like this sensibly:

Well, up to a point, anyway:

The X factor, of course, is that pair of pups.

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Tilt that axis!

And this is what you, or we anyway, get:

Oklahoma 11-season climate

(Via Edmond Active.)

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Some like it cold, and then some

Is it just me, or does expressing these measurements in metric make them sound worse?

To each her zone.

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Northerly wound

OG&E sends out a little advertising piece called “Currents” with the electric bill. The big story this month is called “Powering Through Winter Storms,” and it opens with this sentence:

“The holidays have winded down, but winter isn’t going anywhere quite yet.”

I remember being winded after shoveling snow.

But apparently this word is troublesome in these parts. And if you don’t believe me, ask the robotic voice at the National Weather Service in Norman.

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Turn that heartbeat over again

Love your mama, love your brother, love ’em till they run for cover, and they perhaps should not wait for the weatherman before they start running:

Call Dorothy — the formation of tornadoes has been knocked on its head. New measurements from tornadoes in Oklahoma and Kansas suggest these storms’ swirling winds first develop near the ground. That’s contrary to the long-accepted theory that tornado winds are born several kilometers up in clouds and only later touch down on Earth’s surface.

Researchers analyzed four tornadoes, including a monster known as El Reno, which holds the record as the widest tornado ever measured, at 4.2 kilometers. They noticed something odd when they compared radar measurements that tracked wind speed with hundreds of photographs and videos of El Reno taken by storm chasers: The storm’s funnel was already on the ground several minutes before the radar data—taken roughly 250 meters off the ground—recorded any rotation.

Out of curiosity, the scientists reanalyzed radar measurements taken near the ground. (A hilltop vantage point during the storm serendipitously allowed the team to scan close to the ground without the interfering effects of trees and telephone poles.) They found rapid rotation near the ground before it appeared higher up, a pattern that was confirmed in three other tornadoes.

The downside is obvious:

These findings have important implications for how weather forecasters issue tornado warnings, the researchers suggest. That’s because forecasters often rely on measurements of wind speeds high up in clouds. Because wind might already be swirling at dangerous speeds near the ground, weather warnings might be tardy in sounding the alarm for tornado-strength winds.

Not comforting.

(Via Fark.)

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It is, after all, December

TLO’s Lucas reports, and on the basis of my 40-plus years of residency I must agree, that it’s Snowpocalypse Now, unless it’s something worse:

Weather panic is not a unique situation in Oklahoma. If a week goes by where the temperatures don’t shift by twenty degrees, the wind doesn’t fluctuate, or allergens aren’t popping, there must be something wrong.

Now that winter has finally arrived, we get to enjoy melodramatic forecasts from local meteorologists. As soon as the temperatures drop and precipitation looks like it will rear its ugly head, get ready for all the Oklahoma weatherpeople to unveil colorful charts and graphs that display the incoming winter hellscape.

I did what I could to forestall the inevitable: I took a couple of days off.

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The sky gods know where you live

PJR has moved to Oregon, but you never really put Oklahoma behind you:

Redbird Smith is, of course, named for Redbird Smith (1850-1918), one of the strongest voices for Cherokee traditions and against the “reforms” of the Dawes Commission.

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How the hell does this keep happening?

There’s been one explanation already, but there’s always the chance that somebody missed it the first time around:

WJZY News presents: Rain Causes Wet Streets

Fox 46 is WJZY, Charlotte, North Carolina.

(From reddit via Miss Cellania.)

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Nontropical depression

Hurricane, schmurricane. Hold my umbrella:

Comparative rainfall at Wilmington, NC and Fittstown, OK

Fittstown, in Pontotoc County, has about 100 people and one rain gauge.

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Obviously new here

Guy in north Texas seems baffled for some reason:

There is, of course, an explanation:

Rick Mitchell used to work in this town, at KOCO-TV; he was laconic while Gary England was avuncular and Mike Morgan was We’re all gonna die!

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Aw, shuddup and do yer job

Friday a friend of mine received a notification from his Smart Thermostat:

Alert! Loss of Cooling

Your cooling equipment is not adequately cooling your home, and the temperature inside your house is at least 5 degrees higher than your thermostat temperature setting. This problem can be caused by the following:

  • A door or window may be open
  • Power to your cooling equipment may be lost
  • Your cooling equipment may not be working properly

Evidently beyond the gizmo’s ken was the actual cause of the situation: it was 109 degrees Fahrenheit outside, tying a record for the date, and only four degrees short of the all-time — well, since 1891 anyway — record for this town.

In my own house, with classic/antiquated (choose one) equipment, the gap was 9 degrees.

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Excessive Rhetoric warning

When the National Weather Service starts using scare quotes, it’s time to be alarmed:

NWS Norman Forecast Discussion 19 July 2018

Translation: Hotter than two rats copulating in a wool sock.

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Caramelized by now

At the very least:

Damn that heat index, anyway.

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Hot town, summer in the city

The last time it hit 113°F in this town — it’s happened twice since they started compiling records — we could see it coming; the low that morning was a stifling 84°F.

“Hold my kahwa,” says Oman:

The day of June 26 was a scorcher in the town of Quriyat, Oman. Temperatures in the town, which is weathering a miserable heat wave, peaked at 121.6 degrees Fahrenheit (49.8 degrees Celsius) during the day, according to Weather Underground. That’s just shy of the Omani record-high temperature of 123.4 degrees F (50.8 degrees C), set on May 30, 2017. But anyone in Quriyat hoping for an evening respite from the extreme heat would have been disappointed: Temperatures fell to a low of just 108.7 degrees F (42.6 degrees C). That’s a world record: the highest “low” temperature ever recorded in history.

“But at night, it’s a different world,” hah! And relief may be slow in arriving:

Summer begins in mid-April and lasts until October.

Fifty-four thousand people live in Quriyat. Presumably they can stand it.

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Oy, it’s so humid

Fillyjonk is so done with this humidity:

My dehumidifier runs almost constantly and I’m emptying it generally three times a day. This equates to about 12 gallons of water sucked out of the air. I know some years ago I read a news story about “wow there’s this new innovation that can get water for the desert out of THIN AIR” and I was like “you sillies, that’s called a dehumidifier” though maybe in a desert it has to work harder to suck water out of the air than it does in swampy Southern Oklahoma.

But still, yeah, like every eight-year-old has said to their parent, when said parent tried to shame them into eating some gross vegetable with the old “Children back in China are starving!” line “Well, then, let’s get an envelope and mail it to them!”

There’s always at least one gross vegetable, right?

(Title via 2 Live Jews.)

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You think I like telling you this?

The weatherman is tired of your complaining:

I’m surprised this happens as little as it does.

(Via Miss Cellania.)

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Not necessarily Channel 6

Although the reporter is, in fact, six:

(Recorded yesterday in Nashville, Tennessee. Via reddit.)

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Unaccented robot

The National Weather Service in Norman supports several VHF radio signals, generally between 162.40 and 162.55 MHz, which provide fast forecasts and such for the service area (central and western Oklahoma, minus the Panhandle, plus several northern Texas counties in the general vicinity of Wichita Falls). In recent years a robotic voice has recited the text products; the first one I remember sounded vaguely, sometimes not so vaguely, like Arnold Schwarzenegger. They phased out Arnold in favor of a more modern voice box with more of a North American Television Newscaster timbre, and it’s easier to endure, but it has its quirks.

The first is the unavoidable word “winds,” which is usually, but not always, rendered the way you or I would say “winds” with regard to the meteorological phenomenon. But once in a while it comes out as “winds,” as in “Grandpa takes a few moments every afternoon and winds his pocket watch.” Sometimes you get both in the same forecast. And is it “WRECK-ord” or “re-CORD”?

With the return of storm season I’ve picked up another word with which it seems unfamiliar: “supercells.” You or I would divide it in the middle as though it were two words: “super,” then “cells.” The robot invariably renders it with the second syllable accented: “soo-PURR-sells.” It may be a while before I get used to that.

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Somewhere around forty below

McG’s lived in some places one might fairly describe as Pretty Damned Cold:

Now, in Fairbanks we frequently saw 30 below, 40 below, one morning during our time up there it got down to 58 below. At certain low temperatures the difference between any one degree value and another becomes a matter of thermometric curiosity more than anything else. The Settled Science™ boffins assure us cold snaps like these are just a passing fad and by the time Wyoming becomes a coastal state the entire planet will be uninhabitable anyway. In fact I seem to recall being assured at one point that snowfalls are already a thing of the past.

We used to have a client in Fairbanks, a small nonprofit which would suspend its bimonthly meetings if the temperature was below -45°F.

And you’ll notice that none of the dullards predicting beach houses in Laramie have moved so much as twenty miles farther inland.

I suppose the biggest difference between a Wyoming winter and a Fairbanks winter is latitude; Fairbanks, just a couple of degrees south of the Arctic Circle, has sunrise and sunset all year round, but in December those events can practically both be observed during the same coffee break.

Kind of makes you wonder why there’s such a thing as Alaska Daylight Time.

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Progress by inches

Fortunately for me, we have had a total of 0.1 inch of snow this winter. (I’m not really in shape to deal with more than that, and I don’t happen to have a four-year-old girl handy.)

About three seconds into the song, I muttered: “That ain’t 2Pac.” And it ain’t.

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It’s different in Dixie

Nobody’s getting French toast:

WBTV has been broadcasting from Charlotte, North Carolina since 1949.

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A tornado with no rotation?

Occasionally the Weather Guys say something about “damaging straight-line winds.”

Looks like Enid is getting some serious damage:

KFOR-TV weather map 15 January 2018

And I’m not about to sit down and calculate the wind-chill factor.

(With thanks to Jeff Thompson.)

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Twice in a millennium

A 500-year rain, by definition, has a 0.2 percent chance of occurring in any given year; it does not mean that occurrences are 500 years apart. How much water would that take? From the Sunday Oklahoman:

For Oklahoma City, the following rainfall amounts would be considered 500-year rainfall events, according to Gary McManus, state climatologist, who referenced a report prepared by the U.S. Geological Survey:

  • 2.6 inches of rain in 15 minutes.
  • 3.7 inches of rain in 30 minutes.
  • 5.2 inches of rain in one hour.
  • 6.8 inches of rain in two hours.
  • 7.6 inches of rain in three hours.
  • 8.4 inches of rain in six hours.
  • 9.6 inches of rain in 12 hours.
  • 12.5 inches of rain in 24 hours.
  • 14.8 inches of rain in three days.
  • 15.5 inches of rain in seven days.

I’m pretty sure I’ve seen the first three of these, and maybe more, during the 40+ years I’ve lived here. Example:

11.26 inches recorded on 6-14-2010 at a station 6.1 miles north of downtown Oklahoma City.

That’s almost certainly the OKC North Mesonet station. The “official” total for that day was 7.62 inches at Will Rogers World Airport, where the National Weather Service takes readings.

Yours truly reported at 8:53 am that day:

I think we can kiss that record goodbye. One of the Mesonet stations in town has already made it up to 8, the others aren’t far behind, and it’s still raining. The office ranges from 0.5 to 4.5 inches of water inside. Jesus Christ could walk through the parking lot, but He’s just about the only one.

On the upside, this served as a test for my new $10,000 roof, installed a few days before.

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There’s a road under there somewhere

Not that I’m willing to challenge the methodology or anything:

A new report issued by SafeWise identified Wyoming as the most dangerous state for driving in snow.

The online resource that provides information on safety for communities compiled stats from National Highway Traffic Safety Administration’s 2016 crash data to make a calculation that put Wyoming far out in front of any other state for winter driving hazards. Safewise calculated the likelihood of crashing during snow per 100,000 people in each state with Wyoming receiving a 1.5 chance compared to the nearest state: Vermont (0.8).

Best and worst states for winter driving by Safewise

McG points out that much of the problem comes from a single stretch of Interstate 80:

[U]sually it’s a particular stretch of I-80, running roughly between Rawlins and Laramie. The Snow Chi Minh Trail.

I’ve driven that stretch twice — both times in the summer — and though it’s scenic as all get out, it can also be nerve-wracking when unprepared car drivers are sharing just two lanes each way with the constant stream of big rigs.

Now add several inches of snow to the mix. From John Waggener’s book on the “Trail”:

The newly constructed stretch of I-80 was dedicated Oct. 3, 1970, but residents had warned highway officials of the adverse weather conditions around the Elk Mountain area and advised them not to build a road in that location. Wyomingites who knew their history reminded highway officials that the Union Pacific Railroad looked at that same area 100 years earlier when planning and constructing the nation’s first transcontinental railroad and decided against the shorter, more direct route.

But, just four days after the highway was dedicated, a winter storm wreaked havoc on motorists traveling on the new highway, which Wyomingites referred to as a “monument to human error,” Waggener says.

If the first week of October seems an unlikely time for a snowstorm, you ain’t seen nothing yet. To quote a resident: “There’s only two seasons — winter and July.”

As for that green patch in the Southeast: call me when you have a map for freezing-rain crashes.

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Even Jenny is cold these days

Specifically, these seven:

KWQC-TV, licensed to Davenport, Iowa, serves the Quad Cities area, where it’s just about that cold right about now.

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It being too warm in Alaska

Mount Washington, New Hampshire ain’t no kind of place to raise your kids, either:

By the end of this week, parts of the Northeast will be colder than Mars.

At Mount Washington Observatory in New Hampshire, the temperature will plunge to minus 35 degrees Friday night into Saturday, weather observer Taylor Regan said. At last check several days ago, the high temperature on Mars was minus 2 degrees Fahrenheit.

Neo-neocon demurs:

No fair comparing the low on the mountain to the high on Mars! But Mt. Washington is famous for having the most extreme weather on earth. Yes, you heard that right — on earth:

“Hurricane force winds occur an average of 110 days per year. Mount Washington holds the Northern Hemisphere and Western Hemisphere records for directly measured surface wind speed — 231 mph, which was recorded on April 12, 1934.

“On January 16, 2004, the summit weather observation registered a temperature of −43.6 °F and sustained winds of 87.5 mph, resulting in a wind chill value of −102.59 °F on the mountain. During a 71-hour stretch from around 3 p.m. on January 13 to around 2 p.m. on January 16, 2004, the wind chill on the summit never went above −50 °F.”

Too many significant digits, say I: you can’t take two numbers accurate to three digits — assuming they actually are accurate to three digits — and get a result accurate to five digits.

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Why we rule

It’s simple: we survive crappy weather like this. Hell, some of us flourish in it:

Weather extremes remind me why humans are the predominant creature on this planet. We are remarkably adaptable. We can survive in a wide range of temperatures from bone chilling cold to numbingly hot. We thrive in deserts and swamps. We live in mountains and prairies. Not the fastest of animals, we can run for hours on end. A man can run a horse into the ground. Man is cunning and despite our veneer of civilization, surprisingly vicious. Man can eat nearly anything, including our fellow man, in a pinch. Whether you credit an infinite Supreme Being, Mother Nature, or random genetic mutation, Homo Sapiens is adaptable. I could fly from freezing weather to overheated tropics today with no ill effects at all. There is a reason we are at the top of the food chain, the true King of Beasts. I am willing to prove it if anyone wants to send me to the tropics. I can name some Caribbean Islands that would suffice as proper testing grounds.

And there’s just one more thing:

Further evidence of our exalted status as top predator: it is cold outside. I could go out and survive, but I don’t have to. And I won’t.

I’ll just point out that nobody ever mentions these facts on a sunny spring day.

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Just in case you thought it was cold

We got nothing on Traverse City, Michigan:

Rite Aid store in the -195º cold

(From MLive.com and meteorologist Mark Torregrossa.)

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So basically, another year like any other

“The most perverse weather this side of Baffin Bay,” I once said, and the year now wrapping up gives me no reason to change my mind:

Approximately one of those might have been bearable.

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