Jarn’s Journal Year 4 Day 295

Year 4, Day 295

Note to myself: never fly in a thunderstorm without setting up the parameters for an emergency teleport!

In fact, never fly in a thunderstorm, period. And check the weather at the spot you’re aiming for in a teleport!

I knew I was getting far enough north that I was getting into the fringe of the winter rain belt, but between sand and dead grass I hadn’t paid much attention. I followed the coast northward until it turned back toward the west, noting only vaguely that the shoreline was steadily getting not only more mountainous, but greener. The coastlines I’ve been passing must have owed part of their condition to drought, because when I aimed a teleport at where I’d been the day before, over the coast but far enough in the air to have a good view, I landed smack in the middle of a violent updraft, surrounded by roiling clouds and lightning.

Lucky for me that it was an updraft! If I had arrived in a rain shaft, I would have been smashed into the ground before I had time to react. As it was, I spent several minutes frantically deflecting lightning and keeping myself aloft, too busy even to notice that I was soaked through. Then I was suddenly being pelted by hail. By that time I had recovered enough to realize I’d hit a downdraft and remember the “home” coordinates to get out of there!

I’d known that there was probably a winter-wet zone north of the desert; I just didn’t realize that once I followed the coast northward I’d be in the heart of it. As a result, I totally forgot that at least in theory, it is possible to check the weather at any point for which one has memorized the teleport coordinates. It wasn’t something I’m particularly practiced at, after all I hardly ever teleported at home. But I’d better see what’s in the computer and relearn that particular aspect of teleportation. I don’t want to land in another thundercloud!

Jarn’s Journal is the fictional journal of a fictional human-like alien stranded in Africa 125,000 years ago (early penultimate interglacial.) This is part of the remote prehistory of my novels Homecoming and Tourist Trap. The journal to date is at my author site.

Colorado Storm

Sorry I missed the Alaska weather feature last Monday, but I wasn’t in Alaska. I was in Colorado, headed with a cousin, the cousin’s son and the son’s significant other from a family reunion at the YMCA Camp of the Rockies to the Denver Airport. We drove through Rocky Mountain National Park, and an unexpected severe thunderstorm.

We started out with plenty of time, and decided on the scenic route — up Fall River Road (one-lane gravel and one-way uphill) to the Alpine Visitor Center (11796 feet) where we would rejoin Trail Ridge Road, and then south through Granby to I-70 into Denver.

At least that was the plan.

We started out badly by missing the turnoff from Trail Ridge — the main road through Rocky Mountain National Park — to Fall River Road. Even Trail Ridge has a lot of curves and switchbacks, and we lost quite a lot of time getting back to the Fall River turnoff.

I’ve been up Fall River several times, and it was as spectacular as ever. But even on a Monday we were caught in a line of slow moving tourists. Really slow moving — one of the cars nearly gave us all heart attacks with a child riding on the roof. Still, we would have made it to the airport in time if the weather had cooperated.

It didn’t. Clouds had been building, and as we turned into the parking lot at the visitor center, we were hearing thunder. By the time we found a parking spot and my cousin and I ran for the restrooms, lightning was flashing, and we exited to rain coming down in sheets, hail, and continuous (and close!) thunder and lightning. Sadly, I was far too concerned with getting back to the car to take pictures.

We knew we were pushing it on time by then, but we ran into more intense storms, with hail and rainfall rates beyond the capability of the windshield wipers, before we reached I-70.  And with the delay, we hit Denver rush-hour traffic.

My cousin and I made our planes (in spite of the TSA) but her son and his companion had to reschedule. Still, it was a beautiful drive, and I’m sure the rains were welcomed by most of the residents.

(P.S. — the delphiniums were in full bloom when I got back, all 9 feet of them. And the zucchini got so far ahead of me in one weekend that I had to make a run to the food bank Tuesday. The first golden beet helped with supper last night, too.)