Vince_Condella's Blog

It may not be the Rocky Mountains, but the Kettle Moraine of southeast Wisconsin may have provided a nice little booster ramp for Sunday night's heavy snowfall.  You can view the complete list of snowfall totals and several maps HERE.  But the map below clearly shows the highest amounts of measured snowfall in a general northeast-to-southwest alignment at the location of the Kettle Moraine.

Although many of us think of our part of the world as being pretty flat, we have some significant elevation differences.  For example, the city of Milwaukee is around 630 to 660 feet above sea level.  However, West Bend in Washington County is 900 to 950 feet above sea level, Holy Hill approximately 1200 feet above sea level, Random Lake in southern Sheboygan County is 900 feet above sea level, and the town of Sullivan in eastern Jefferson County is 860 feet above sea level.

Sunday night our prevailing wind was from the northeast.  It came in off of Lake Michigan laden with low-level moisture.  Those soggy air parcels then flowed upslope from 630 feet to 930 feet and higher.  A 300-foot rise in elevation may have been enough to cause the air parcels to expand slightly as they encountered lower atmospheric pressure aloft.  This expansion creates cooling of the air parcels, causing them to saturate and precipitate out their moisture.

This precipitation due to upslope is common in mountainous areas and is called orographic lifting.  This is why the windward side of mountains are wetter and greener.  Once the air parcels pass over the mountains and begin their downslope on the other side, most of their moisture has been squeezed out.  They compress and dry out further as they go back down to lower elevations.  This is the reason the lee side of mountains are dry, arid places.

It is likely that the dramatic decrease in snowfall amounts on the lee side of the Kettle Moraine accounted for the rapid decrease of observed snowfall in Fond du Lac, western Dodge, and western Jefferson counties.  In mountainous areas, this is known as the rain shadow.  Perhaps the Kettle Moraine provided a snow shadow Sunday night.

The phone rang at 8:15 a.m. Sunday morning - it was FOX 6 meteorologist Bart Adrian checking in with an update on the approaching winter weather.  He had worked the evening shift the night before and was starting his weekend.  I was just coming off my weekend and beginning a new work week.  We compared notes on the upcoming snowfall and we both commented on winter weather's slowness compared to the urgency of summer severe thunderstorms.

This time of year the weather can evolve over the course of one or two days.  Or in the case of Sunday's snow, we have been tracking this weather system since the middle of last week.  Snowstorms are typically born of large low-pressure systems that strengthen once they cross the Rockies and enter the central Plains.  Our numerical prediction computer models do a nice job of forecasting their path and power, but numerous variables influence the many fecets of the storm.

Contrast that slow development with the rapid growth of severe thunderstorms.  Strong storms can blow-up in less than an hour, producing hail, high winds, and even tornadoes.  Severe thunderstorm or tornado warnings can mean life or death and must be issued with the utmost urgency and timing.  Winter storm warnings or winter weather advisories are long-term events and can remain valid for 12 hours or more.

So in the weather forecasting business we have two types of weather events:  the slow-acting ones or the high-speed ones.  Pick your poison.  Either way the information has to get out to our viewers and web users in a timely fashion.

For me, snow events are a little bit more laid back and relaxing.  But they can last for a couple of days.  One good thing about severe summer storms is that they come in and out in a hurry.  A few minutes of panic and then we're done! :)

I'm not sure which is worse:  the stress of getting together with family on Thanksgiving, or the stress of shopping on the day after Thanksgiving.  No question about it, this is a holiday built for anxiety.  Many family gatherings consist of adults all coming together as a family unit again, only this time the kids aren't kids, they're adults.  And they have kids of their own.

Somehow the family dynamics seem to play themselves out all over again.  Had that long-standing fued with your brother when you were growing up?  Funny how the feelings flair up again while passing the plate of cranberries.  Your parents still trying to run your life even though you've been out of the house for 20 years?   If any of this sounds familiar, you are not along.  More people travel long distance to relive the family stress of their youth on this holiday than any other holiday of the year.

Not all families fit this mold, of course.  Many people have a great time getting back together again with the ones they love.  But c'mon, it's not always a Norman Rockwell painting.

And what's the deal with the people lining up before dawn to burst through the doors of businesses that open early for Black Friday?  Do people really enjoy this madness?  These might be the same people who wait in line in their cars to drop off their tax return just before Midnight at the Post Office on April 15.  Maybe they do it just for the experience, just to say they've been there, done that.

Hopefully you'll be able to look back on this long Thanksgiving weekend with a smile.  That's usually what happens when we think about all the things that make us thankful.   Afterall, that's what this holiday is all about.

Let's all hope for clear sky in the evening for about an hour after sunset.  For the next few days we will witness a spectacular conjunction between two planets in our solar system. And just for grins, a thin crescent Moon joins the fun on Sunday.


For the past few weeks, Jupiter and Venus have been getting closer together in the sky in the southwest after sunset.  Closer together is a relative term because these two planets are really millions of miles apart.  But to our line of sight here on Earth, they look to be on a collision course.



Each night through the weekend keep an eye on the southwest in the early evening and watch as these two beacons of the night close in on each other.  This Sunday evening, November 30, Jupiter and Venus are joined by the thin crescent Moon appearing to their lower right.  The best of the show comes on Monday evening, December 1, when the three brightest objects in the night sky are so close together they will fit behind your thumb held at arms length!


And don't forget to check out the Moon's da Vinci glow, or Earthshine.  That is the light gray part of the Moon that is not illuminated by sunlight.  Leonardo da Vinci first explained this phenomenon.  It is the shaded side of the Moon that is dimly lit by sunlight reflecting off the Earth and bouncing to the Moon

.

The da Vinci glow, also known as Earthshine.

Another cold day, the first decent snowfall, and the whining about winter weather is off to a fast start.  Ah yes, the wailing and gnashing of teeth.  Isn't this weather just the worst on the planet?  And the people doing the most complaining are the ones who have lived here their entire lives.

With our morning commute snowfall snarling traffic, I was amazed to hear so many people tell me they didn't expect this snow.  Where did it come from?  Why wasn't it predicted?  These are obviously the people who have been living under a rock since last Thursday.

Thursday of last week was when I inserted Monday snow in my 6-day outlook.  Friday and Saturday was when Bart Adrian fine-tuned his forecast for the viewers and web readers.  Sunday night was when I laid-out the timing of the incoming snow plus expected amounts.  And even for those people who didn't watch FOX 6 or check our weather web site forecast, I'm sure every other media outlook in town had snow in the Monday morning forecast.

So what's the deal with the clueless people?  I'm not sure.  They pop-up with every weather event.  Somehow every weather event is a surprise to them.  Maybe it's the learned helplessness.  You know, ignorance is bliss and all of that.  Hey, plenty of people sleepwalk through life.

I think about these people every time I struggle with a complicated forecast scenario.  When I sweat out the details of an incoming snowstorm, I think to myself "why sweat this, very few people are paying attention".  And that is true.  The way I see it, about 10% of the people watching me on any given weather segment are truly paying attention.  Weather is a space-out segment.  People's eyes glaze over when they see the pretty graphics.

But for those 10% of you, I appreciate you watching.  As for the weather whiners, I recall a line from George Carlin's hippy-dippy weatherman character Al Sleet: "If you don't like the weather, move."

In the weather office, we are blessed with a lot of wonderful high-tech equipment, from Doppler radar to a sophisticated computer graphics system.  But a crucial piece of hardware is made of plastic with four buttons.  It is powered by a single 9-volt battery.  I'm referring to "the clicker", a garage-door opener type of device that we use to remotely advance our on-air graphics.

Often you will see us holding "the clicker" in our hand when we are out on the weather deck or in the studio.  Each of the four buttons advances a different graphic source.  For example, when we create our computer graphics such as forecast animations, SkyVision, radar or satellite loops, we put them in a "slide show".  Using this feature allows us to program the computer to show the graphics in the proper order.  By hitting button number 1 on "the clicker", we advance to the next graphic when we are ready to talk about it.

Last week during one of my studio A weathercasts, I stepped off camera when we showed a feature photo from a viewer.  I walked over to a nearby desk to look at the photo description I had written down.  While reading the photo description to our viewers, I placed "the clicker" temporarily on the desk.  At least I thought I did.  Instead, I missed the desk and the plastic contraption landed on the studio floor and smashed into several pieces.  The crash was rather loud, but since it was off-camera, nobody watching at home saw it, although they may have heard it.

Our floor direction quickly retrieved the plastic parts as they scattered all over Studio A.  Fortunately we have a spare "clicker" and I used that to finish out the weather segment.  I'm happy to report we were able to put all pieces of the wounded "clicker" back together.  And amazingly enough, it works!

Doppler 6000, S.M.A.R.T. Weather Net, WSI computer graphics system - all very valuable.  Plastic "clicker" with four buttons - priceless. 

Here's a story about good karma being passed along to one of nature's most frail creatures.  A few weeks ago a woman riding her bicycle in a rural community in New York state spotted an injured Monarch butterfly.  It looked like it had a broken wing.  You may recall me writing about the amazing migration of the Monarchs, who travel from northern latitudes all the way to the mountains of Mexico to escape the cold of winter.  How these little insects make it all the way to their destination is quite stunning, but doing it with a broken wing would be impossible.

A broken wing on a Monarch butterfly, similar to the one found by a rural New York state woman.

The woman, Jeannette Brandt, transported the butterfly home in her empty water bottle, then fed it rotting pears and a water/honey mix.  The food sustained the little guy.  Now, how does she fix the wing?  She and her partner, Mike Parwana, found an internet video posted by Live Monarch Foundation, a non-profit group from Boca Raton, Florida, instructing people on how to fix broken butterfly wings.  The couple fashioned a tiny splint made from cardboard and attached it to the wing using contact cement.  The wing healed.

Jeannette and Mike took the butterfly in a box to the nearest truck stop asking if any truckers would transport the Monarch south.  Sure enough, a trucker from Alabama would be driving through Florida and volunteered to take it with him.  Earlier this week he called the couple and told them the Monarch was released in Florida and hopefully on its way to a successful migration.

That's my feelgood story for the weekend.  Stay warm. :)

For many people, this past week has been one filled with pain.  They can truly blame it on the weather.  If you suffer from any type of arthritis, you know what I mean.  Our bodies act like a human barometer and react to the changes in atmospheric pressure.

The pressure in the atmosphere, often referred to as the barometric pressure because it is measured using a barometer, is literally the weight of the atmosphere.  When measured at sea level, the typical atmospheric weight is around 14.7 pounds per square inch.  That's a lot of heaviness pushing us down.  Except we don't get crushed.  Our body "pushes back" and maintains a balance.  Afterall, humans evolved under these atmospheric pressures, and our blood pressure and fluid flow in the body helps maintain our form.

However, because our bodies are filled with so much liquid, we act as a human barometer.  When atmospheric pressure becomes lower with the approach of a low-pressure storm system, the fluid in our joints expands a bit and exerts often painful pressure.  When high pressure arrives and pushes down a little harder, the fluid in our joints recedes a bit.

The painful part of all of this fluid movement occurs when high and low-pressure systems pass over us in rapid succession, such as every other day.  And that is exactly what has been happening these past 6 or 7 days.  There have been wild swings in atmospheric pressure, and the joints in our body feel them.

Remember when grandpa and grandma used to tell you it was going to rain because their knees told them?  They weren't kidding.

It's human nature to assign blame to all events that don't match our preferred outcome.  Yesterday's icy evening rush hour is a perfect example.  Today many people want to figure out who to blame for all of the accidents.  Why weren't the salt trucks out there sooner?  Why weren't we warned of this impending doom?

The convective snow showers were a fluke.  As I explained in yesterday's blog, they weren't unusual or rare.  Heck, they weren't even a surprise.  I can only speak for my forecast from Sunday night, but it included scattered snow showers and flurries for Monday.  These are quite common events in November.

The fluke part of the deal was the timing.  Striking the main traffic area right at the heart of the evening commute home was a cruel twist by nature.  The salters did their best to get where they needed to go, but often they were trapped in bumper-to-bumper traffic just like everybody else.  And with the widely scattered nature of these snow showers, there was no way salt trucks could get to the spots where they were needed before the snow showers hit.

The particular heavy snow shower that caused all of the problems became intense over southern Sheboygan county before 4 p.m., then steadily crept south through Ozaukee and Washington counties during the next hour.  It arrived at our Brown Deer studio on the north side of Milwaukee County just as we began our 5 p.m. newscast, and the rest is history.

Another part of the equation is the air temperature, and that remained below freezing throughout the late afternoon.  Pavement temperatures were perfectly suited to create "black ice", the sheets of clear ice that allow the black pavement to show.

Oh yeah, and then there is the critical part of the equation.  Many people don't slow down.  And those that do drive safely and slow to a proper speed are often plowed into by those travelling too fast.

One of our regular bloggers, FOX 6 Fan, said it best in his comment to my blog yesterday:  sometimes we just have to slow down.  Conditions aren't always going to be perfect for us.  And even though it may be difficult for many people, we need to adjust and go with the flow - even if the flow is slower than we would prefer.

The snowbursts that blew through here Monday afternoon and early evening were not out of the ordinary.  In fact, these convective snow showers are quite common in November and December.  But it was all about the wrong timing.  As luck would have it, the strongest and largest snow shower came through the Milwaukee-Waukesha metro area during the evening rush hour.  With temperatures below freezing, any moisture from the snow iced up on the pavement.

Convective snow showers form in a similar way to their counterparts in the summer months.  We have a roaring jet stream overhead providing lift and spin in the atmosphere.  The cold air aloft also added to the instability.  Air parcels rose quickly and condensed into cumulus clouds.  The best lift occured in a layer of the atmosphere that was best for dendritic ice crystal growth, and this resulted in rapid snowflake development.

Just like being caught under a summer snow shower, a convective snowburst will reduce visibility quickly.  But it was the ice that really did the damage.  Moisture froze on contact with the cold pavement of the roadways, and the ice rink formed in a hurry.

Remember that bridges and overpasses are the most slippery.  They are not in contact with the warmer ground.  Wind can whip beneath the roadway of a bridge and freeze it from top and bottom.  Even exit and entrance ramps are slippery.

This snowburst made for a traffic mess and a lot of fender benders, but it served as a solid reminder of the season that lies ahead of us.

California:  nice place to visit but I wouldn't want to live there.  That's what a kid from the Midwest like me thinks of our most populated state.  With over 36 million people living within its borders, the left coast has a wealth of natural resources that are constantly under stress and strain.  Sometimes too wet after being pounded by Pacific storms, other years leave it in a drought with reservoirs drying up.  Then there are the famous earthquakes.  This weekend it is the Santa Ana winds fueling wildfires.

Thousands of acres have burned and multi-million dollar homes have gone up in smoke the past few days as winds roared over 70 miles per hour.  These gales simply fan the flames and send hot embers travelling over a mile and allowing them to ignite fires downwind.  This has been a true nightmare for the residents as well as the brave and tireless firefighters.

The Santa Ana winds are named for the Santa Ana mountain range just east of the Los Angeles basin.  Clockwise winds around high pressure over the Great Basin (Nevada, Utah & Colorado) produce an east wind at the Earth's surface that pushes between the narrow mountain passes.  When the wind is forced through a narrow opening, it accelerates.  You feel the same thing when passing between two buildings on a windy day.  (This is know as the Bernoulli's principle, named after Dutch-Swiss mathematician Daniel Bernoulli.)

High pressure over the western U.S. can create east surface winds that squeeze between the passes of the Santa Ana mountains.

Not only do the winds speed up through the mountain passes, they then descend down the west slope of the mountains and into the LA Basin.  As they move into lower elevations, gravity is greater, squeezing the air parcels and causing them to heat up by compression.

The result of atmospheric physics and thermodynamics is a hot, dry wind leaving misery in its path.  Our thoughts are with those in the LA Basin tonight. 

And you thought our winters can get cold!  The unmanned Phoenix spacecraft, sitting near the north polar region of Mars, has shut down, it's mission coming to an end after 5 months.  That is 2 months longer than mission scientists expected.  By all accounts, it has been a successful mission, drilling down into the ice beneath the Martian soil and sampling and analyzing the fourth rock from the Sun.

Artist drawing of the Phoenix lander on the north polar region of Mars.

Phoenix landed at the end of May and took advantage of the Martian summer to power its solar panels while studying the surface of Mars at around 68 degrees north latitude.  Plans called for a 3-month mission before the sun angle got too low to generate power using the solar panels.  But the spacecraft kept functioning until a dust storm kicked up and covered the solar panels with dust.  At the end of October, Phoenix went silent.  Soon the temperature will drop to around -238 degrees, and the spacecraft will be encased in frozen carbon dioxide.

It will take years for scientists to analyze all of the data.  Phoenix did confirm the presence of water ice beneath the surface.  The spacecraft was also looking for organics and other signs of life in an earlier time period.  Indeed, mission scientists think Mars may have been teeming with microbial life during a warmer era millions of years ago.

The Phoenix landing site near the Martian north pole.

Mars has always held the imagination of people through the ages.  It was once believed the planet contained canals of water and other life forms.  By the time the Phoenix data is analyzed, we may have an entirely different appreciation for the Red Planet.

I vividly remember as a kid growing up in the Chicago suburbs being in my room in the evening and picking up long-distance radio stations on my little AM transistor radio.  It fascinated me to listen in to WWL in New Orleans, WSB in Atlanta, or WWVA in Wheeling, West Virginia.  These were powerful transmitting radio stations that suddenly came in clearly on many nights.

I went through a similar experience driving in my car this evening.  It was 6:45 p.m. and as I went up and down the AM dial I could clearly hear WSB in Atlanta, then WABC 770 out of New York City broadcasting the New York Rangers hockey game.  Another click down the dial brought in the sounds from Detroit talk radio WJR.  This was cool stuff and brought me immediately back to Lombard, Illinois and an 8-year-old nerdy kid.  I would write to these faraway radio stations, tell them the time and programming I heard so I could prove to them I actually heard them, and they would send me a cool 3 x 5 postcard with the station's call letters and city of origin.  (These are called QSL cards)  I would proudly hang these cards up on the bulletin board in my rooom right next to the Bobby Hull autographed photo and the White Sox line-up from the Chicago Tribune sports section.

An example of a QSL card commonly used by Amateur Radio (HAM) operators.

I didn't know it at the time, but our ability to hear AM radio stations long distance is due to ionospheric refraction.

If an AM radio station transmits a powerful signal, e.g. 50,000 watts or higher, it may refract (bend) off of the ionosphere hundreds of miles above the Earth.  This is called a Sky Wave.  (The ionosphere is a layer of charged particles surrounding the Earth)  Radio stations also transmit a Ground Wave, but this doesn't travel far, perhaps 50 to 100 miles depending on the station's power.

Many AM radio stations only transmit during daylight hours and power down at night.  This allows the more powerful stations to come through loud and clear.

Talk about a flashback to the days of my youth!  That ride in the car this evening took me back 45 years.

November 11 is an infamous day in weather history.  The Armistice Day storm of 1940 killed 154 people, most of them hunters in the Midwest who were out enjoying a fine late autumn day.

The western Great Lakes experienced temperatures in the 50s and 60s with a mild south wind.  But while it was in the mid 50s in Chicago, Sioux City, Iowa had a temperature of 12 degrees with a raging north wind.  Strong low-pressure over central Iowa deepened quickly during the overnight hours, strengthening to that of a minimal hurricane by midday on the 11th.

The primary Midwest weather forecast back in 1940 originated from the Weather Bureau office in Chicago.  This office was not manned 24 hours per day, and it was during the overnight hours when the storm became so powerful.

The result was an afternoon of sharply falling temperatures, howling wind, and blizzard conditions.  The low-pressure center had a central pressure of 28.66" over Duluth by the evening hours, with western Wisconsin, Minnesota, and Iowa bearing the brunt of the snow and wind.  Snowfall of up to 27 inches was not uncommon.  Winds gusted over 50 miles per hour, and snowdrifts piled as high as 20 feet.

Many duck hunters were out along the Mississippi River enjoying a warm day when the storm came upon them.  Some escaped to islands on the river, but 5-foot waves and 50 mile per hour winds flooding their campgrounds.  Many froze to death.  Sixty-six sailors died on Lake Michigan when 3 freighters sank.  Thirteen died in Wisconsin and Illinois, 4 in Michigan, and 49 in Minnesota.

After this disaster, the Weather Bureau expanded the number of forecast offices in the Midwest and required 24-hour staffing.  This major storm in 1940 ranks as one of the greatest natural disasters to strike the Midwest.

This is the time of year when surface low-pressure systems can crank up the wind.  It's no surprise that November is known for strong winds.  The breeze is a result of the pressure gradient force.  Pressure gradient is simply the difference in atmospheric pressure over a certain distance.  When a low-pressure center is strong, meaning that is has a low central pressure, the surrounding pressure gradient force creates powerful winds.

That was the case on this date (November 10) in 1975 when the ore carrier Edmund Fitzgerald sank in Lake Superior.  It went down in 530 feet of water and sent 29 crew to their death.  (Note: one of loyal bloggers, Basher51, is a fan of Great Lakes ships.  No doubt he knows this date in history quite well and has been on board some of the freighters that sail those mighty waters.)

The Edmund Fitzgerald

The "Fitz" was tossed around by huge waves that were created by a massive low-pressure center that intensified over a short amount of time, literally catching everyone by surprise.  The ship was on its way from Superior to Detroit filled with taconite (low grade iron ore).  Sustained winds over 50 miles per hour caused the Soo Locks to close.  Waves as high as 35 feet battered the Fitzgerald and another ship.  They both attempted to hug the Canadian shore of Lake Superior to seek some shelter, then cut southeast toward Whitefish Bay on the far southeast corner of the lake.  The Fitz went down before reaching the bay.

Another low-pressure center on this date in 1998 created massive wind here in southeast Wisconsin.  Peak wind gust in Milwaukee reached 68 miles per hour causing tree damage.  Heavy rainfall produced minor flooding, with 2.22" of rain measured at Mitchell International Airport.  The same powerful low-pressure peaked the wind at 95 miles per hour at La Crosse.

Some meteorologists refer to these monster low-pressure systems as inland hurricanes.  The pressure gradient force is a common event when the gales of November come blowing.