This reminds me a bit of my days back on the East Coast... When there was constant talk about a "great" winter pattern setting up in the medium/long range, with chattering beginning in October and November, only to gradually fade away into oblivion by February and March with the ground still brown.
While this season is not over, we're near the all-star break, but our team keeps losing games. Strikeouts are high and the number of home runs hit, let's just say, it's been near a record low. Sure, there have been a few games won and even a couple for the highlight reel, if you were lucky enough to be in the stands with a good view. However, we're most likely out of contention for the pennant and we're well below .500 for the year. Sure, there could be a historic late season comeback, but barring something like that, this will be a year that simply wasn't ours for the winning.
Yes, things could change, but the trends are becoming increasingly less favorable. The silver lining (I feel like I've been saying this all year) is that even the worst years seem to have a diamond or two in the rough between late May and mid-June. Think back to 2014, when an epically bad Plains season was rescued in the 9th inning by hitters such as Pilger and Coleridge, seemingly out of nowhere. Recall 2017, a year that saw several highly anticipated games only fall short, sometimes painstakingly short, of expectations. Another 9th inning wonder came to bat when a rare Moderate Risk on the Front Range, of all places, actually performed and featured a few photogenic tornadoes.
Another year that comes to mind is 2015. That year, overall, wasn't great and it was the first and only time that I strayed west of the Rockies during a late May chasecation. I had a friend with me and after two abysmal chases in marginal setups, I did not want to disappoint her with a week of sunburn. It resulted in missing out on the Canadian day. The drive back was perhaps even harder, as I was not paying close attention and went to Albuquerque, when I should have been in Dora...
We can all learn from seasons like this. My advice is don't live and die by the models with every breath. Forecasts change. Speaking again about my East Coast roots...some of the most memorable, major snowfalls were not anticipated more than a couple of days in advance. Sometimes a narrow band of snow, drawing parallels to a residual outflow boundary, waiting to be lit up, brought rush hour to a standstill as bystanders could only get out of their cars and look in awe. Likewise, magical tornadoes can spin out of seemingly marginal-looking environments. Like snowstorms, some historic outbreaks can be well predicted, even as far as a week in advance. However, history tells us that beyond day 7, the skill of computer models becomes increasingly erratic, as extended model forecasts can and will change, sometimes drastically.
In a way, I'm almost glad it's working out this way. I would rather have tempered expectations going into a below average stretch, than have hopes of fields of wedges only taken away by morning convection and mammoth cap busts. The beauty of low expectations is that if the pattern does change, or if there is an unforeseen magical storm chase day, then it feels that much more special.
The bottom line... peak season is just about here and the models look pretty bad for the next week and as far as we can see with at least modest confidence, the signs are not encouraging. As a chaser, you have a few ways to look at this. Are you willing to wait it out in hopes that the pattern does change, allowing for a stellar finish to the season, or do you dial back the excitement and just take a deep breath? Be ready, but flexible. Expect the unexpected. Prepare for the worst, but hope for the best. Stay optimistic, but don't be naive. You never know when the next MRGL or SLGT day could feature the storm chase of a lifetime.