Summary: Saw what was likely two separate tornadoes south and southwest of Lakeview, TX, then was trapped on TX-256 east of Lakeview for two hours by a combination of tornadic debris and floodwater.
While I will share no pictures or video on this post, I got pretty solid video of one of the tornadoes. However, I currently lack software to process the video and I'm not going to load a 21-minute video on YT when less than half of it is interesting. Photos were not very interesting.
Awaited initiation in a wonderfully flat open area SSW of Pampa. Went after the initial storm near Clarendon. It produced large wall cloud northwest of town. However, I could never discern rotation nor saw any funnels from my vantage point along TX-70 north of town. It wasn't long before splits/additional development from the south flew up north to interfere with it. Sensing no immediate tornado threat, I decided to play in the core and sample hail. I barely got even quarter-sized stones out of the several minutes spent in the core. It looked like the storm was continually struggling amidst repeated mergers from the south and southwest, and I had recently noticed the next storm down the line remaining mostly isolated and nearly stationary, so I abandoned that mess.
I decided to head west on TX-256 from Memphis to sample the core of the storm. Several miles along 256 I finally encountered stones large enough to be undoubtedly severe sized, although they were spiky and pretty sporadic. The next hour or more was rather annoying and confusing, as circulations would appear on radar on one scan and be gone one or two scans later, and they were popping up all over the place. I had a view of a broad, but shallow, lowering under the base to my south which would occasionally exhibit noticeable upward motion and even very weak rotation, but then a new scan would come up and draw my attention elsewhere. I kept jumping west along 256 a mile or two every 5-10 minutes as one circulation would appear, then weaken, only to be followed by another generally to the west. After awhile, I started finding myself alternating between mostly calm winds and strong northerly winds, passing in and out of RFD surges.
Finally seeing a more robust and persistent circulation on radar to my south, I headed south on FM-657, then east on FM-1041 knowing I could get back to Memphis that way (rather than having to go back to 256). By the time I reached Plaska I had finally gotten out of the rain. I was not impressed with what I saw. I could not find any concentrated, persistent rotation at cloud base. Having lost hope for the day, I turned back north on FM-2472 back towards 256 with the intent of watching whatever was left fall apart, then getting started back home. It was approaching 7 PM by this time and I had little reason to believe anything tornadic would happen. Boy was I wrong...
I ended up sitting along 2472 just north of the big curve halfway back to 256 for 10-15 minutes. Remarkably, rain was pretty scarce up in there, despite the fact that I appeared to be sitting right along the edge of precip in the notch of whatever hook echo was present. I noticed an inflow tail had formed and was streaming towards the southwest, but it disappeared into a void of precip and lack of cloud base. I saw no rain curtains wrapping, so I did not think there was a tornado in there. The inflow tail was persistent, however, and a more definitive cloud base formed under it over time, although I still could not discern any focused rotation. Eventually I drifted back to the south to get out of the way of some dead trees along the curve. Upon emerging from the trees, I saw the faint nub funnel extending below cloud base in the area where the inflow tail had been pointing. I was able to film the tornado for several minutes along 2472, despite a lack of places to pull off. There was only one or two other vehicles around where I was. My apologies if I blocked their path, but they looked to be filming the same thing I was, so it didn't seem to be a problem to be stopped in the driving lane.
I sensed the precip and strong RFD creeping up behind me, so I started drifting south to try to stay out of the heavy rain and wind. I also didn't think the tornado was going to stay down long, and sure enough, after just a minute or two, it seemed to trend downward in strength. Condensation became intermittent, but wrapping rain curtains remained. I decided I was going to get back down to 1041 after the tornado crossed to keep my view of it. I note on my video as the tornado appears to be weakening that rapid downward motion had formed immediately to my south. Less than a minute later, the winds accelerated at my location, which alarmed me. I wasn't totally sure what was going on. Thinking the tornado may have had a larger circulation than I thought, and thus I had drifted too far south and gotten too close, I turned back north. I got smacked in the face with high wind and large tumbleweeds in strong N/NW winds. When I turned back south, I saw what was likely a separate tornado had formed just east of the road. It took me until the next day watching my video that the increased wind speeds were probably the intensification of the circulation associated with that second tornado, which formed almost on top of me as I watched the first one weaken well to the south. Already on the backside of this second tornado, I pushed south. I witnessed some weak multiple vortex action and perhaps a faint cone, but then I approached downed power lines over the road. This is when it got bad.
I had been pulled into strong RFD with nearly zero-visibility rain and I had no choice but to go back north. The farther north I went, though, the worse the winds and rain got, eventually forcing me to stop and re-consider going back south and driving around the power lines in the ditch. About four cars were there with me, but it became obvious that there was absolutely no path to the south anymore. We were forced to push back north through the intense RFD, which gradually relented after a few minutes of pushing north. However, a new problem had arisen during this stretch - water over the road. I had a few nervous passages just getting back to 256.
Upon reaching TX-256 I knew the east route would be unsafe and plagued by extreme rain and likely hail, and I was no longer interested in sampling hail cores, so I decided to push west in an attempt to get back to 657 to 1041 to round my way back up to Memphis. Going 55-65 mph, I encountered a very large puddle over the highway, throwing muddy water all the way over the roof of my car. My wipers were not sufficient to keep water off my windshield as I pressed on through that puddle, so for several seconds I had no idea if I was even still on the road. Finally I made it back to uncovered pavement, now fully alarmed at how hazardous it had become. Now going much slower, but not even a mile later, I encountered another puddle covering a good 100 m of road ahead of me, and it didn't look good. There was another vehicle on the other side of the puddle flashing their brights at me frantically. I thought turn around, don't drown and gave up on the westward escape. Negotiating that nasty first puddle again, I went back east, but was only able to go a mile or so before encountering a similarly huge puddle over the road eastward. That was it: I was trapped, and it was still raining very hard, so I knew the water wasn't going down anytime soon. I was forced to find a high spot on 256 to sit.
For at least 90 minutes, the heavy rain did not relent. I was trapped there with Stephen Jones, Scott Peake, and Christophe Asselin and his pals who make the Rendevous in Tornado Alley series. After about two hours of sitting and nonstop rain, an emergency vehicle and tractor-trailer showed up and started checking on the road. Once the rain finally let up enough to get out of the car without getting instantly soaked, I found out the road had been completely washed out to the east. The emergency vehicle led a convoy of cars that had made it to this point back to the west, towards Lakeview, as that offered the only escape route, although I was in a sedan, and basically every other vehicle was a higher-framed SUV or truck, and most people were telling me they didn't think I would make it through. Not wanting to spend the night alone on the highway, I followed the convoy west. I made it to Lakeview, but just barely. It was probably that second big puddle that initially forced me to stop, but going through one of them, I felt my tires leave the road surface for a second, which was also the same second my heart stopped. Perhaps dumb, but I saw six other vehicles in front of me make it, so that gave me a little confidence that at least it wasn't a foot deep or something. The road was impassable on the west side of Lakeview, so I had to wait in the church that they opened up as a shelter. About a dozen other parties arrived there, one of which had totally lost their vehicle near town.
The last of the storms (a supercell, of course, which developed behind everything else and basically at sunset and dropped quarter hail on us in Lakeview) finally passed shortly after 9 PM. By 10 PM, with the help of some locals who had made it through the west side of town, I attempted to escape Lakeview and was successful. I made it back up to Clarendon, then I-40 and was able to get home with little trouble after that (the power went out at the Loves in Erick as I was trying to fuel up).
I feel kinda stupid for not having considered how much rain had fallen on the road network I sat on. That section in northern Hall County was basically an isolated road network, having only two roads to cross rivers and escape. Definitely learned some of the downsides to my newfound more aggressive, risky, and hence more reckless, chase strategy. I will definitely be more mindful of this next time.
