But Monday was different. I witnessed firsthand the practices that will drive me away from the sport I once loved with my entire being. The past week of storm chasing has been eye-opening. In just seven days, I've encountered:
--Chase vehicles parked perpendicular to roads blocking major intersections
--Multiple chasers with red/blue police lights "pulling over" others to clear their path to the storm; in 70 mph winds and egg-sized hail and less than a mile from a tornado, this could have been deadly
--Traffic jams 200 cars deep
--Chasers parking on/in the road to take pictures, blocking traffic
--Chasers barreling down a one-lane road at 90 mph
--Chasers driving on the wrong side of the road
The dangers speak for themselves.
There's a reason why my biggest fear about storm chasing isn't weather-related; it's not the softball-sized hail, it's not hurricane-force winds, and it's not even lightning or the tornado. It's other chasers. On Monday, when a large tornado passed by Mangum, Oklahoma, the Oklahoma Highway Patrol reported just one injury, not from wind but "involving two vehicles with storm chasers."
The perils have been manifest before. Three storm chasers were killed in an accident in Texas on March 28, 2017, when a pair of Weather Channel contractors blew through a stop sign at 70 mph. In 2013, veteran storm chaser Tim Samaras fell victim to a tornado near El Reno, Oklahoma; his son Paul and chase partner Carl Young also perished. A Weather Channel vehicle was tossed 200 yards, breaking the driver's neck. Scores of other chasers cheated death that day.
But so far, the storm chase community has been incredibly lucky. On its current track, storm chasing is a ticking time bomb.
More here
from Salisbury News http://bit.ly/2EtD3Ay
ليست هناك تعليقات:
إرسال تعليق