Rising Winds
February 4, 1998
By Mark Hoover
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I thought I had paid my dues by staying up all night to fly
with the scientists from CALJET through the huge storm that
hit California yesterday. After landing, I started replacing
adrenaline with caffeine as
I made my final push to write and post a dispatch. Yes, I
was tired, and I smelled a nap like a hungry man smells
bread outside a bakery.
Hah.
If you've been watching the news, then you've seen the
effects of the storm we flew through early Monday morning. A
lot of coastal California looks like it's been hit by a
runaway train—and it has. It's called the Pineapple
Express, and although this is another one of those junky
popular terms that makes scientists shake their heads, it's
apt enough; all the water dumped on California came from the
tropics in the rough vicinity of Hawaii. A direct corridor
of wind established by the southern jetstream conducted this
tropical moisture toward all that expensive southern
California real estate.
The real estate around Monterey isn't too shabby, either,
although it was looking a little ragged as I made my
departure Monday evening. First the winds started gusting,
then the sheets and rivers of rain descended, and soon the
power was out. The phones stayed on for awhile, and I was
able to send my e-mail (but not charge my battery) before
heading to the airport, which still had power. But rising
winds kept delaying takeoff, and one minute before
departure, the flight was cancelled. The only option was to
drive 75 miles to San Jose to catch a plane scheduled to
leave in less than two hours. So I rented another car, and
headed out, with toothpicks holding my eyes open, and
puddles forming in the seat from my sopping clothes.
The highway was a disaster, with pooling water, washouts,
trees blown down in the roadway, and little mountainside
brooks turned into whitewater. Needless to say, I missed the
San Jose flight too; my last hope was San Francisco, and
only because the flight was delayed there, too, did I
eventually get on board. As for that nap: I guess I can't
blame the two unhappy babies in the next seat on El
Niño.
Two harrowing journeys through the middle of an intense
storm in one day is generally my cut-off. Fortunately, the
jetstream was on our tail on the way home, and the plane
made great time. I guess you could say the jet stream owed
me.
Later this week we'll get even closer to the jetstream;
we'll travel north to Alaska to accompany scientists who are
studying the jetstream's El Niño-year weirdness by
flying directly into it over the Gulf of Alaska. If you want
to know a lot more about why we have the weather we do in
North America this year, please join us for our adventure to
Alaska, as we track El Niño from a distant outpost.
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