Chasing the Storm

I recently moved to Jackson, Wyoming. The drive started in Birmingham, Alabama and spanned 1,900 miles until my arrival in the town of Jackson. I drove though Mississippi, Tennessee, Arkansas, Missouri, Iowa, and Nebraska and finally into the great state of Wyoming.



After a long day on the road, the Wyoming border was just a few miles away. As I drove west across the state of Nebraska I was inching ever so close to the could mountain air, when the skies began to darken.



I quickly checked the radar and saw nothing appear at first. The clouds continued to darken and the wind began to howl. Lightning became more and more frequent to my east. Just as the rain began to fall weather advisory appeared on my cell phone; 50 mile per hour winds plus penny sized hail coming directly in my path.

As I drove into the heart of the storm most trucks and cars had pulled over my Tahoe was shifting with the severity of the wind; but at this point in my journey west there was no stopping.

After a 15 hour day driving, nothing could stop me from getting across the border into Wyoming. In a few months that same storm will be covering the mountain of Jackson and bring fresh powder for me to ski the mountain of Jackson Hole and explore the wild west all winter.