Catching New Winds
- Charlie Kruschek
- May 23
- 8 min read
It's been quite a turbulent stretch of days across the central United States ranging from places as far north as Minnesota, as far south as I-20 in Texas, and all places in between. Last Thursday marked the beginning of a five-day marathon of chasing tornadoes, which meant racing through states like Missouri, Kentucky, Texas, Oklahoma, Kansas, Illinois and Nebraska. For many of us chasers, this is the time of year that things feel the most normal. We're used to sleepless nights driving, booking rural hotels with lonely "vacant" signs shimmering in the window, and eating at the one local restaurant for a town of eight hundred people. Over the past week, this was the rinse and repeat cycle I was in. Seek normalcy, while setting an expectation that was entirely the opposite.
The 2025 storm season had been about average for me up to last week. After an embarrassing 2024 season of missing tornadoes and lacking shots, the anxious need for a photogenic, stormy scene in front of my lens was at an all-time high. I wasn't setting my sights on tornadoes (yet), I just wanted to witness symphonic turbulence in our atmosphere again. This felt like a fair week to give that a try, and with that in mind, I set three goals for myself:
Capture authenticity.
Film chaotic moments of peace.
Learn to put the camera down.
I didn't mind the order which I aimed to check these goals off. I simply wanted to put my emotional response for photography and storm chasing to use in a way that challenged the sense of "failure" I was experiencing after last year. On Thursday, a confusing chase in Wisconsin kept my camera in the bag for the entire chase. I don't have images to share, I don't have videos of my drive, all I have is the memory of racing from storm to storm with my mother along for her first chase. My tornado drought in Wisconsin may remain, but the wealth I felt knowing my mother got to experience the frustrating joy of what I spend so much time away from home, felt like I had won the day. I still feel like I do. I kept the camera down, focused on the experience, and settled in at home that night preparing to discover a new, yet oddly familiar normalcy.
Friday, on the other hand, was not as confusing. An early morning seven hour drive from Wisconsin down to Sikeston, MO with Colin Davis and Andrew Pritchard meant we had little room for error before more stormy skies would be rumbling our way. In the backseat of Colin's car, my attitude was respectably good. Chasing with some of your best friends while blasting Linkin Park and slamming Diet Cokes (or Coca Cola if you're them) nullifies the results of any lack of cooperation from the atmosphere. A bust can still be a good day if you're with the people you appreciate most. Fortunately for this chase, the atmosphere agreed to deliver at the height of my expectations. By nightfall, we had witnessed two tornadoes, both photogenic, and one lasting long enough that I had a chance to experience an ironically chaotic moment of peace on the side of the road. I managed to place my tripod down, breathe deeply, and stare as the most uncontrollable force of nature I've seen twirled its way towards us. But in that moment, it wasn't the tornado that I found myself emotionally attached to. It was the brief sight of birds.
Surely it wasn't my first time experiencing this, but it was the first time I had taken focus to birds. Watching them flutter by my camera as chaos raged on just a mile away felt like I was watching two separate movies at once. A drama in front of me; an action/adventure flick further back. If there's one lesson I learned through my years of chasing, it's that mother nature will find a way to coexist in every facet of life. She will ruin your days just as much as she will make them.
This reminder of chaotic peace kept me grounded for the days ahead. I remained level with my expectations, and I kept control of what normalcy I wanted to seek. It was safe to say, though, that this was the best case scenario for this little journey across Tornado Alley. I could breathe, knowing that my lens had captured photogenic scenes from the sky once again.
Upon waking up the next day in Springfield, MO, we had no shortage of driving ahead. The Saturday target invited us to northwest Oklahoma for the chance at a sneaky supercell around dusk, with a legit shot at some tornadoes if the atmosphere decided to attend. We were riding high from the day prior. Colin and Andrew could also breathe knowing the monkey was off the backs for the trip. Our hopes had been met, and it felt like there was some house money we were playing with moving forward.
So we were patient. We took our afternoon easy, frolicking our way to out target area near Leedey, OK while the ingredients for another stormy day took place. In some areas of the state, storms had already found themselves with an angry attitude and produced some brief tornadoes. We remained strong with our footing, convinced our target further west would pan out that evening.
Unfortunatley, we were teased through dusk. Our "storm" made a valiant effort to mature along the TX/OK border, but the atmosphere decided to keep our excitement at bay. The expectations we had set for our day was ruthlessly abandoned, and we set course for our next hotel, cameras still eager to be used. Mercifully, the skies apologized for its lackluster delivery of storms with a colorful sunset and a surprise meet and greet from a nearby local who was curious about Andrew's drone.
A scene like this following a tornado the day prior was sobering. I had set my expectations low, but the delivery still stung. It was a reminder to not be greedy, enjoy the moments as they come, and respect the winds, no matter which way they come from. I took that mentality and applied it into the next few days. After all, Sunday was gearing up to be the most volatile weather setup of the entire trip.
Picture waking up in a hotel room with the words "tornado outbreak" plastered across all the television stations you explored. For most folks, this would send alarm bells to check out and get the heck outta Dodge (literally), but for our crew, we were giddy. A high ceiling event was in store for the day, and we couldn't help but set our bar at tornadoes. Yes - plural. This felt like one of "those" days that happen once or twice in a season, or even more rarely, once or twice every few years.
The majority of our chase was spent parked and staring at screens, believe it or not. A handful of complicated factors from the atmosphere made selecting our target difficult, and in the most frustrating way, we elected to abandon our hopeful target and return to Oklahoma again for the increasingly obvious target. Kansas would have to wait once again, as disappointed as we were.
As I sit here and think back to what the afternoon and evening of this chase was like, I draw a lot of blanks, admittedly. I remember seeing one of the most beautiful tornado + structure combinations of my life, timelapsing the birth of the tornado itself and weaving through countless chasers roaming the rural roads as if the Super Bowl just finished. If you were to ask me what my takeaways from this chase were, I'd be lying if I spoke up about some. I really don't know... and that fascinates me. Maybe this was complacency. Maybe this was discovering normalcy again after a disappointing 2024 season. Maybe this was my brain sending a warning sign that I'm at my emotional capacity with storm chasing, and it was time for me to pull back on my emotional ties to the atmosphere and experience the winds without strings attached. Maybe it was time that I lowered my sails and learn to just float freely. I will continue to explore that over the next few months of this season.
With two more tornadoes in the books, we had one final chase in store before we began the journey home. Similarly to the previous days, we found ourselves waking up in a heightened area of risk for tornadoes. Contrasted to yesterday's setup, however, we decided to depart the risk this time. We left Wichita, KS bright and early and traversed up to York, NE for a cautiously optimistic setup that had the potential to award Colin and I with our first "Back to Back" tornado days. Our bar was set, but the expectation I had was quietly low. I kept in mind the joy from Friday's chase and the house money that we were rewarded for the remainder of our trip. I would give my best effort, but I would be at peace no matter the outcome.
We ended up spending hours wandering under tornado warnings. Our storm flirted with producing a tornado for what felt like days, and by the time it finally did, the sense of accomplishment our vehicle felt was comparable to, if not greater than, how we felt on Friday. The effort was there, and the effort was rewarded. At one point, I verbally thanked the skies for being kind to us that day. I recongize that kindness was not offered to everyone. I'm grateful I was one of the few.
At this point into our trip, my camera had been pushed to its limit. I explored new endeavors with videography by filming tornadoes and gathering moments of peace that I will be processing for months. The purpose of these videos are simple: invite peace into the scene.
I still have many photos to look through and edit. Ultimately the photos of the Nebraska tornadoes were less than what I would consider to be "my standard", however as I embraced during this trip, my standard should not reflect the images I produce. It should reflect the effort I put in. I'm okay with a less than perfect shot. In fact, I'm more accepting of one now than I was a week ago. The authenticity of the work I created during this trip reflects the core values of what I learned. Chase with the hopes that I discover a new "normal" that respects the winds that I'm chasing, no matter the expectations.
At the end of the day, I’m just one guy being carried by the atmosphere. I can choose to set sail with the wind it brings, but I do not have to force my boat one way or another. Let the winds do the work, and as long as I maintain my ship and point my sails, I'll let life carry me forward.
Looking back on this trip, I’m grateful. I’m grateful to have found moments of peace amongst a fast paced, chaotic sky that kept me and my best friends constantly running. My perspective, both mentally and photographically, will return to The Alley soon. I see interest only a few days away, so I’m keeping my eyes peeled for the next string of days that will test my capacity and invite me to explore the new “normalcy” that I’m readjusting to once again.
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