Or, at least, wear a hard hat. I was astonished to learn of a new record set in April near Hondo, Texas.
Thing is, that probably wasn’t the largest hailstone to come out of that storm. Accuweather reports:
Another hailstone the NOAA described as “gargantuan” was discovered the same day south of U.S. Highway 90 in Hondo, about half a mile from the location of the confirmed record-breaking hailstone. The individual who found the stone estimated the diameter to be 6-7 inches, meaning it could have potentially been bigger than the record-breaking stone that was confirmed.
Whether that stone off the highway was the true record-breaker or not will forever remain a mystery, as it was used to make margaritas before it was able to be officially measured.
There’s more at the link.
I guess that’s Texas for you. “Hey, break out the booze! We’ve got a world record hailstone, so let’s make a world record margarita with it!”
I was wondering whether we were going to get another hailstorm yesterday afternoon and evening. A hellacious low came through, with lots of rain and wind. It was noisy enough that both our cats disappeared beneath furniture and refused to come out for several hours. I tell you, living on the “dry line” as we do, the weather can get “interesting” enough – in the sense of the fabled Chinese curse – to make a believer out of you . . .
Peter
I lived a bit west of you when I was a kid. I rode out the Lubbock Tornado in 1970 under the house. Dad steamed in bellowing when he saw the funnel, we dived through a small hole in the floor to the dirt underneath. It let down a mile past our house and devastated the business district, the airport, and some of the poorer sections. They studied it and developed the F5 scale. That was a dry line creation too. Barely a chance of rain that day. Next day, 28 were dead, and the city was on it's knees.
They grow big out there. Many was the night I spent in the cellar we built, and the basement in the new house… We called them 'fraidy holes.
As everybody knows, things are bigger in Texas.
Wow. Don't know what else to say.
I live about 30 miles north of Hondo..we got zero hail here…go figure..
When I was at Shepard AFB (Wichita Falls), a dust storm blew across Texas from Lubbock, and when it got to us it rained down through it. There was an inch of mud on everything in the morning: cars, sidewalks, lawns, and every plane on the flightline.
Yep, welcome to Texas… and the vagaries of the 'dry line'…
I went to Shepard AFB for missile training, and spent the next 8 years muchly underground. I was a mole man.
Hail. A curse for most, a livelihood event for my sister, an insurance adjuster.