Today Sandy roared ashore along basically the entire Northern half of the Eastern seaboard. It's actual landfall point was in southern New Jersey, but this historically massive storm system brought with it tropical storm force winds that spanned some 500-800 mi (depending on direction and information source it seems) from the center.
The result: my first ever official Hurricane Day!
A friend of mine enticed me to join her and two of her friends to ride out to the shore to check out Sandy's winds. After throwing on what amounted to my skiing outfit -- helmet included -- we pulled off down in Southie, hopped out, and proceeded to jump around in the wind and whipping rain. Though "only" 50 mph, it really is quite a sensation to have a constant 40-50 mph wind --with occasionally higher gusts -- slamming your body. Away from any potential debris missiles, we leapt for joy in amazement of the awesome power of the wind, raising our arms up to allow our pants and jackets to flutter and flap loudly.
We then hopped back into the car and drove over near the ICA. There, perhaps with the wind-funneling assistance of a large building, we parked at a street where the sustained winds were up around 60-70 mph, a level at which you can hear nothing but the blasting wind in your ears, and it is nearly impossible to propel yourself forward at anything faster than a slow walk. It was pretty awesome.
And now, after spending most of the past 6 hours looking at photos/stories/tweets about Sandy, I really, really need to go to bed.
The result: my first ever official Hurricane Day!
A friend of mine enticed me to join her and two of her friends to ride out to the shore to check out Sandy's winds. After throwing on what amounted to my skiing outfit -- helmet included -- we pulled off down in Southie, hopped out, and proceeded to jump around in the wind and whipping rain. Though "only" 50 mph, it really is quite a sensation to have a constant 40-50 mph wind --with occasionally higher gusts -- slamming your body. Away from any potential debris missiles, we leapt for joy in amazement of the awesome power of the wind, raising our arms up to allow our pants and jackets to flutter and flap loudly.
We then hopped back into the car and drove over near the ICA. There, perhaps with the wind-funneling assistance of a large building, we parked at a street where the sustained winds were up around 60-70 mph, a level at which you can hear nothing but the blasting wind in your ears, and it is nearly impossible to propel yourself forward at anything faster than a slow walk. It was pretty awesome.
And now, after spending most of the past 6 hours looking at photos/stories/tweets about Sandy, I really, really need to go to bed.
