Observer Comments
February 2010
With relatively uneventful weather hanging on to New England, I'll take this opportunity to travel to where the weather is for my comments today.
The latest major winter storm struck the mid-Atlantic states yesterday, and has been dubbed with a copious number of over-the-top nicknames already ('Snowmaggeddon' and 'Snowpocalypse' stuck out in my mind) as many locations witnessed record snowfalls.
The highest reported snowfall totals produced by this storm (inches):
Colesville, MD: 40.0
Near Elkridge, MD: 38.3
Near Howellsville, VA: 37.0
Frostburg, MD: 36.0
Leesburg, VA: 34.5
Some other impressive totals from around the mid-Atlantic (inches):
Near Crofton, MD: 34.0
Dulles Airport (Washington, D.C.): 32.4
Philadelphia, PA: 28.5
Johnstown, PA: 28.0
Near Martinsburg, WV: 27.9
American University (Washington, D.C.): 27.5
Cherry Hill, NJ: 27.3
Wilmington, DE: 26.5
Baltimore-Washington Airport: 24.8
The 32.4 total at Dulles Airport was a two-day record, destroying the old record of 23.2 set during the infamous blizzard of '96.
The 24.8 total at Baltimore-Washington Airport was also a two-day record, squeaking by the old record of 24.4 during the president's day storm of '03.
Wilmington, DE received 19.4 of its total 26.5 on February 6th, which was a one-day record, defeating the old record of 13.9 set in 1978.
Not only did the storm produce significant snowfall totals, but blustery winds as well as the low pressure system rapidly intensified off the eastern seaboard and rocketed northeastward. Here are some of the selected highest reported wind gusts (just as a reference point, Mt. Washington's peak gust yesterday was 57 mph):
Lewes, DE: 61 mph
Georgetown, DE: 60 mph
Tuckerton, NJ: 51 mph
Cape May, NJ: 50 mph
Atlantic City, NJ: 48 mph
In addition to the winds and snow, the storm produced nearly 1/4 inch of ice (due to freezing rain) in parts of North Carolina and Virginia.
This storm will certainly be remembered for years to come by those who experienced it. And those of us in New England will just have to remain patient and hope some of the snow comes our way soon!
Mike Carmon – Staff Meteorologist
 "see caption below")
Closed for the season.
My first summer on Mt. Washington was, for want of a more poetical vocabulary,
illuminating. Throngs of hikers filtered through the hut I worked in. They were happy,
tired, talking, laughing, crying, winded, cold, overheated, bonding, meditating, Canadian.
No matter the temperament, passers-through always made for good conversation-- interesting
conversation, anyways. Summer was fun.
Well, it's a funny thing, being up here in the winter. It's so quiet up here. When I look
out the weather-room windows, I see an empty world. It seems to sleep, blanketed in a
cold, expansive ether. The surrounding ridges, painted over with a monochromatic pallet,
seem to say ''closed for the season, see you in the spring.'' Hurricane-force winds blow
snow high into the air, and temperatures turn boiling water instantly to snow. I guess
it's for good reason that visitors are scarce.
But I'm learning that ''quiet'' is not the same as ''dull.''
It's typical in the summer months to see hundreds of visitors on the summit in a single
day. And I've rarely hiked the Crawford Path without running into at least a score of
hikers. A winter day up here, however, is lonesome; a jaunt above treeline is like
traveling through the middle of nowhere. More than lonesome, though, the winter alpine
zone is serene. Halcyon. It's a good place to think-- to think about the future, the past,
the present. Especially the present. In fact, this barren tundra lends itself well to
make-believe. I often find myself fording the frozen seas of the arctic, or taking one
giant step for mankind. I'm juvenile, sure. But don't knock it until you try it: it's a
pretty good time.
So, visitors are few and far between. But illumination doesn't have to come from others.
And winter is fun, too.
Drew Hill – Summit Intern
While the weather to the south remains quite active, New Englanders will suffer from a streak of relatively tame conditions.
A few surface high pressure areas will pass through New England over the next week or so, and, along with the proper upper-level dynamics, will provide dry conditions and relatively average temperatures through this time period. There will be no major fluctuations in temperatures, no major precipitation events, and we will even struggle to muddle the sky with clouds! The National Weather Service forecast for northern NH expresses that high temperatures will range in the low to mid 20s through next Thursday, with the only chance of clouds and snow coming briefly on Sunday afternoon (the chance for snow at this time is 30%). Although it is important to remember that, beyond three days out, an exorbitant amount of confidence should not be placed in the details of any forecast. But at this time, it does not appear that there will be any major changes.
It will definitely NOT be a week of significant weather events in the valley, to be sure. Although we will see some occasional fog on the summit, there are no noteworthy precipitation or wind events in the near future either. Although this will make the forecasting aspect of my job much less demanding, I am still an individual that craves extreme weather. So about now, I'm becoming nostalgic (or impatient, if you prefer) for the dramatic summertime thunderstorms.
Finally, to completely change the subject...one of our seasoned veteran observers, Stacey Kawecki, will be celebrating her day of birth on the summit today, February 5th. She will be turning the tender age of...well, this is a touchy subject, and I might get in trouble for sharing that information, so I will refrain. Happy Birthday!
Mike Carmon – Staff Meteorologist
After numerous trips here over several years this week promised to be a good one. There were guests scheduled for most of the week which keeps us busy and makes the stay very interesting. The most notable stir, however, was news of the wind speed record here being broken. As volunteers, our interest in the weather comes more from seeing how beautiful it is here and how daunting it can be when Mother Nature rears her ugly head. Actually it was a rather "mundane" week with the wind only topping 100mph twice and temps to -26 degrees. We do, however, recognize the importance of weather research and forecasting both in how the weather effects us and how, in fact, we affect the weather. All that being said, I go back to the highest wind speed. To read about the early years when people first maintained a weather station on this summit, constantly battling Mother Nature. To understand how much they put at stake to continue that task and the equipment they were dealing with, for me, makes the 231mph record one that will never be equaled. Not unlike the Old Man in the Mountain, just because it's gone doesn't diminish the vivid memory of it and how it was created. That is not to say that gathering data here today is a walk in the park as it's not. Climbing on to the parapet in 80+ mph winds in the dark and breaking ice away from equipment, for one, is commonplace throughout the year. Much of the work here is dedicated to improving the collection of data and insuring its accuracy and with time, most likely, many new records will be established.
The second most notable aspect of our visit this week was cooking on the new stove. Not without some trepidation, we set out to make enough meals to keep 31 people contented, over the week, knowing the stove has been persnickety at times. What would you rather have, a '37 Plymouth Coupe or a Ferrari? Personally, a 37 Plymouth Coupe, I would be one to miss the old blackiron stove, however, just like data gathering, progress demands better equipment. The week is drawing to a close and, knock on wood, the stove has cooperated marvelously without a glitch. It is nice to be able to turn on the burners or the oven with no matches or backfire and know the oven temperature maintains very predictably. The only issue was adjusting to the convection fan reducing cook time. The floor, as well, has transformed and, although practical and nice looking, it lacks the country kitchen feel.
The last, but certainly not the least, change for us was the mode of transportation. We have been making the round trip in either snow cat or van, depending on the weather, over the last 8 years. The ride this time was in the Obs' new cat with comfortable seats and heat making the trip much more enjoyable.
Echoing the words of one of our guests this week, Willem Lang of Windows to the Wild, we've reached the saddest part of our visit on the "Rock Pile" when we say goodbye. I'm not much for preaching or soap box ramblings but being here surrounded by great views, great people, and great food brings to mind how lucky we are. I have friends currently in Haiti, one who did not survive the quake, doing what they can to help and that fact makes me feel a little guilty. As the crew here do what they do to better understand our planet we all can help by trying to better understand our planet and each other.
P.S. Only to clarify, I had not read Ryan's Tuesday comment before writing ours. Any similarities are purely conincidental.
Charlie & Jeanine Kinney – Summit Volunteers
 "see caption below")
An artistic look at the 7 stages of grief?
January can produce some the best winter weather on the summit. In the past, it has produced highs of 47F (1995) and record lows for the station and the state of 47 below zero (1934). It has seen 94.6 inches of snow in one month (1978) and winds as high as 173 mph (1985). This years January is not one of those months. In fact, January was kind of a downer on many levels.
Let me highlight some of things that dragged January down. The temperature, however, was about the only positive note as it was 3.4 degrees warmer than normal which isn't bad given how many cold stretches we had. But then comes the bad news. The melted precipitation totaled 2.44 inches which was 6.08 inches below normal. But even that pales in comparison to the 18.4 inches of snowfall that fell leaving a deficit of 34.4 inches below normal. The deficit as a result has left our seasonal total some 48.6 inches below normal. Not as bad as past years but not optimal for this time of year. We had 30 days of some amount of fog with only 31 percent of available sunshine hitting us. Winds were also lacking as the average winds were some 10 mph below normal. The lack of winds meant we only had 15 days above 73 mph (category 1) and one day with winds over 100 mph. And it took 30 days for us to get that 100 mph wind from the last one. Usually in the winter we average a 100 mph gust 1 out of every 4 days. So that was a long time without high winds. Couple this with the lost of our world record wind, and it was really not a good month as far as winds go.
But while I am on the topic of our record lost, I would like to thank everyone that has emailed us expressing their shock and their feelings for our lost. I have been answering a lot of your emails this week which has allowed me time to reflect on all that has happened. In reflecting, I think back to my child development class in college and how we touched upon the Kubler-Ross Grief Cycle (which is mostly known as the 5 stages of grief although most people use 7) and how we can use them to understand and facilitate changes in our lives. So, let me summarize my experiences with these 7 stages:
Shock Stage: Initial paralysis at hearing the bad news. This occurred for me on Friday the 22nd when I was reading a western weather forum. I thought, it would be similar to the other challenges I have seen to the record since arriving here. But then Monday the 25th rolled around and the news was confirmed by the World Meteorological Organization (WMO) which lead me to the...
Denial Stage: Trying to avoid the inevitable. There's no way this is true, it had to be some mistake which lead me to the...
Anger Stage: Frustrated ourpouring of bottled up emotions. Someone had to been paid off by Chevron (who now owns the island). The anemometer had to have had a flaw. Their calibration procedure seems weak. The data had to be tampered with. This has to be a mistake like the wind on Guam during Typhoon Paka. 14 years? Really? But then I read the write up which lead me to the…
Bargaining Stage: Seeking a way out. It had to be caused by a tornado or a roof pitch. Maybe it isn't finalized and it can get recategorized as a tornado caused wind or something. But as time passed and I was able to read the write up calmly, leading me to the...
Depression Stage: Realizing the inevitable. While there is still a chance things could change and it could get recategorized, everything that I know about meteorology leads me to think it might be true. The state lost the Old Man of the Mountain and now the Big Wind. But by answering emails this week, I found my way to the...
Testing Stage: Seeking realistic solutions. We haven't given up yet as we (as an organization) are still looking over the data. And if the record does hold we still can claim that we have the highest observed wind (since the station was manned at the time the wind occurred), the highest wind in the western hemisphere, the highest wind in the northern hemisphere and home of some of the worst weather on the planet. And it is with these that I can hold my head up high and move to the...
Acceptance Stage: Finding a way to move forward. I got to this point by answering all the emails we got this week. I was reminded that unlike the Aussie station, there are people up here which gives our weather a bit of a personality and soul with it. The story behind the 231 mph wind is a better read than how an automated station captured a high wind. And when the next big wind occurs, whether it be a personal record (159 mph for me), a station record of 232 mph or a new world record, there will be people here measuring it, experiencing it, and relaying it for the world to see. And when that does occur, hopefully you will all be around to revel in the experience as we write about here in our comments.
Observer's Footnote: In celebration Groundhog's Day (by the way, he saw his shadow extending winter 6 more weeks) we posted an Obscast from two years ago to our Youtube account with my crew demonstrating how we determine how long winter will be. An Obscast is a weekly video we post every Monday on a large range of topics. If you liked the video and are a member, you have access to over 100 videos we have done over the past three years for your viewing pleasure.
Ryan Knapp – Staff Meteorologist
 "see caption below")
The Northern Presidentials
It has been a bit of a cold, foggy week here on the summit. The temperature hasn't risen
above 0F during the last three days and Saturday afternoon was the only significant period
of clearing. The webcams have been teasing us throughout the entire time, allowing us to
see that, in fact, our 'fog' was often the only cloud in the sky. Actually, we are in the
clear as I write this and can see the snow blowing off the top of Jefferson,
but I don't know how long this will last for. There are friendly cumulus clouds floating
by, but they have been increasing in numbers and size in the last couple hours and will
continue to do so until they finally obscure our view. The bases of a few off in the
distance are already below us.
For now, however, I will enjoy the view out of this office window. With the temperatures
as cold as they have been, the prominent fog, and strong winds, the amount of activity
outside has been kept to a minimum. Looking over towards the outer reaches of Jefferson
Ravine, I've been eyeing an interesting looking gully climb and my mind has been heading
off to daydream land. I have had the binoculars out, I have taken a look at the extended
forecast, and I've been reading the avalanche reports. Yes, I am
definitely getting a little stir-crazy!
...and hey, would you look at that...we're in the fog again...welcome back, old friend.
Mike Finnegan – IT Observer
OUR PARTNERS
10:55 Mon Feb 8th
Warning:What you are about to read is thoughtful and possibly sappy
I'm in a reflective state of mind. This mind set could be the result of the background music, popular when I was middle school, which has placed my psyche in the past. I remember reading Michael Crichton novels, and relating to the strong, female scientist characters. I wanted to be like Ellie in Jurassic Park, or like Beth in Sphere. I wanted to be a scientist who worked in an exotic place. I would borrow National Geographic magazines from the library and read about dinosaurs, alternative energy, and the ocean. Then I saw the movie Twister, and my focus narrowed to weather, hurricanes, and thunderstorms in particular.
Fast forward through high school and get to college. Believe it or not, I wasn't totally sold on Meteorology until my sophomore year. I took analytical physics, general biology, and technical writing. I took German, Japanese history, band, and calculus. Finally, first semester of my sophomore year, I took Elements of Meteorology. I was hooked and knew I couldn't go back. During one of the Meteorology Club events, a certain Rutgers Alumnus gave an amazing presentation on Mount Washington (shout out to Jim Salge!). My childhood dream of being a scientist in an exotic location bubbled to the surface. I had always imagined I would be somewhere tropical or hot, studying animals or dino bones. In fact, even during meteorology class introductions, when my classmates would say they were interested in snow storms and mid-latitude cyclones I would secretly say to myself, why? Thunderstorms are so much more interesting, and tornadoes, and hurricanes! Heck, even boring New Jersey weather was better than winter storms!
I hated winter. I didn't like being stuck inside, and I didn't like the cold. Snow was a hassle, not fun (classic mid-Atlantic mentality). But, Jim's presentation completely blew me away. There were others at the meeting. One fellow had gone into TV meteorology, another worked at AccuWeather, and we even heard from some folks with the National Weather Service. None of that appealed to me. The most exciting prospect was working on top of a mountain in a weather observatory that I had never even heard of; a very cold and windy mountain.
Last semester of college, I came up to the summit for an interview. It was 0 degrees, gusting up to 100 mph, smack in the middle of March. I remember every aspect of that day. I met Ken Rancourt, Alex Pszenny, Brian Clark, Ryan Knapp, Neil Lareau, Tim Markle, and Jim Salge. I ate chicken soup made by volunteer Bruce Hancock. A future congressman came up. We had to take the truck with chains to 2 mile. I nearly sat in someone's lap for lack of space. Brian Clark gave me a tour; we went to the tower (where I didn't attempt the parapet in uncomfortable plastic boots). The observers and Ken interviewed me in that horribly nerve-wracking process. And, even amidst the absolute insanity that is Wednesday and nausea inducing anxiety, I fell in love.
A year and a half later, after getting certified to teach, interviewing at a couple of schools, and acquiring 4 graduate credits towards education, I returned to the Mount Washington Observatory's website. I looked at the opportunities, and they needed someone who had a passion for educating and a background in meteorology. The rest, you know. My childhood dream of being a scientist, working in an exotic location, and being a strong female role model for young girls has been fulfilled.
Stacey Kawecki – Observer and Meteorologist