Since it’s easiest to stay isolated on road trips, experts agree they will be the first facet of travel to re-emerge from the pandemic lockdowns. While it was anything but recreational, I recently drove across the United States at the height of the COVID-19 pandemic. I want to share my lessons learned and observations made so you can plan your next road trip once COVID-19 finally becomes a thing of the past.

1. The Country is Bitterly Divided

I’ve taken road trips to all corners of the United States over the past decade. Not once have I ever experienced the level of hate, bitterness, and animosity directed towards me as I did on this trip.

There is no better example of the bitterness right now than my state, Arizona. Its toxic political culture coupled with the corrosiveness of a very close election has turned the state into a cesspool of hostility and resentment. Over the past year, Arizona has been in the news far too many times for all the wrong reasons.

For me, it all started when mask mandates started to go into effect in the Spring of 2020. Regardless of whether or not you chose to wear a mask, you were constantly being heckled, harassed, and berated in public. While it’s easy to laugh off childish name calling, I draw the line at the threat of physical violence.

Once I started getting death threats at the supermarket over masks, it had escalated beyond an acceptable level. By the time it got to the point where I couldn’t do mundane tasks such as getting the mail and taking out the trash without having to constantly face death threats or the risk of being attacked, it had already forced my hand. And yes, I had people try to attack me on more than one occasion. This had spiraled well beyond just masks and the election.

Bottom line is this. I expect that I was so frequently targeted because I was alone all the time. The vast majority of people you’ll run into remain warm, friendly, and welcoming. However, expect that no matter where you go, someone will be judging you…and not in a good way.

2. But We Can Still All Agree on One Thing…We’re Sick of Covid

These days, it seems like we can’t get any more divided. With record levels of animosity, we can’t agree on anything. Maybe with the exception of agreeing to disagree.

Interestingly, I noticed one common thread in every location I passed through on this trip. And it goes deeper than “the sky is blue” or “water is wet”. From the reddest of conservative areas to the bluest of liberal areas, and everywhere in between, we are all sick and tired of dealing with COVID-19. I don’t know about you, but I’m sure yearning to get my old life back.

3. Rules Vary Wildly From State to State

One of the rules I stuck to on this trip was to treat each state like it was its own country. Why you ask? Because the rules and restrictions vary so much from state to state. What’s completely acceptable in one state could land you a hefty fine in the next. Even more frustrating, in some states, the rules can be completely different going from county to county or town to town.

Look at some of the southwestern states as an example. States like Arizona and Texas have issued few restrictions with little to no penalty for violating them. However, cross into New Mexico and it’s a much different story.

As soon as you cross the state line, they make it very clear that masks are required statewide, capacity limits are in effect in many sectors, and some businesses remain closed altogether. The state will fine you if they catch you violating those restrictions.

New Mexico is also one of the few places that actually enforces its COVID-19 restrictions, which is a perfect segue into our next observation.

4. COVID-19 Restrictions are Rarely, if ever, Enforced

I really surprised me just how few places actually enforce their COVID-19 restrictions. When I passed through Amarillo, Texas, you’d never know we were in the middle of a pandemic. Bars, restaurants, theatres, malls, and museums were all packed. I did not see a single mask or anyone even pretending to stay socially distanced. And this was on a Wednesday afternoon, back when Texas still had a statewide mask mandate and capacity restrictions in place.

Sadly, I found this to be the rule, rather than the exception. While Amarillo was by far the most flagrant example of this utter disregard on the trip, I saw it in just about every state I passed through. We’re all fed up with COVID-19. I get the pandemic fatigue. I want to go back to normal just as badly as you do. Unfortunately, the longer we fight the restrictions, the longer it will take for us to reach normality.

Thankfully, though, the majority of people still comply with COVID-19 restrictions despite the fact that they’re largely unenforced. However, there remains enough resistance to make it both concerning, and a times, dangerous.

5. States Fall into One of Two Categories

And those categories are:

1. They take COVID-19 seriously
2. They openly mock it and brag about flouting their own guidelines and restrictions

Sometimes, the most amazing things happen when you least expect them. That was certainly the case as I crossed the St. Francis River.

For those of you who are not familiar with the area, the St. Francis River separates Paragould, Arkansas from Cardwell, Missouri. Both towns are in a rural, deeply conservative area.

At the time of my trip, Arkansas had a statewide mask mandate. Missouri did not. As I drove down Main Street in both Paragould and Cardwell, the difference could not have been more stark. Everyone on the Arkansas side of the river was masked. Not a single person on the Missouri side was. Even When I came upon a fender bender leaving Cardwell, even the public safety officers at the scene had opted against putting masks on.

6. You Don’t See Any Out-of-State License Plates

I love playing the license plate game on long road trips. When I took my three-country road trip in 2019, I saw license plates from all 50 US States (plus Washington, DC), 10 Canadian Provinces, and 8 Mexican States. Contrast that to when I took my first COVID-19 road trip to Oregon in July, 2020. I only saw license plates from 6 states: Arizona, California, Nevada, Idaho, Oregon, and Washington.

On this trip, it didn’t take long to notice that the freeways were basically void of passenger cars. The pandemic had kept everyone at home, which led to another fascinating observation. In normal times, when you approach a state line, you start seeing license plates from the state you’re about to cross into. There was none of that driving across the country at the height of the COVID-19 pandemic. People were that reluctant to travel out-of-state.

Not surprisingly, the results of the license plate game were putrid compared to 2019. I passed through 16 states to get across the country. Besides those 16 states, I only saw license plates from two other states.

• An SUV with Florida plates near Albuquerque, New Mexico
• A small hatchback with Alabama plates in eastern Oklahoma

7. With the Right Safety Protocols, You Can Safely Enjoy a Cross-Country Road Trip in the Age of Covid

While I can’t under any good conscience recommend it right now (unless you’re fully vaccinated), it is possible to safely drive across the country. However, COVID-19 safety does come at the expense of comfort, and to some degree, fun.

Yes, I cut myself off from hotels, public restrooms, and all other public buildings. I spent nearly 48 straight hours in the truck, peeing in Gatorade bottles, and camping in the middle of an ice storm on the side of a mountain in Kentucky on just one leg of the trip. But I argue that it was fun in its own way. Regardless of the circumstances, any trip is only as fun and adventurous as you allow it to be.

Conclusion

Driving across the country unvaccinated at the peak of the COVID-19 pandemic was a memorable experience I won’t forget any time soon. It’s certainly not for the faint of heart, though. However, with the proper planning and safety protocols in place you can make it to your destination safely. Make sure you know exactly what you’re getting yourself into, and have a plan in case anything goes wrong.

That wraps up the series on my cross-country COVID-19 road trip. I hope you’ve enjoyed reading it as much as I’ve enjoyed reliving it. If you have any questions or comments, please leave them in the comments section below or email me directly. We’ll be back to our normal content next week, traveling the world through data, maps, and photography. Have a great weekend, and see you next week.

Top Image: Freeway Junction Sign on My Cross-Country COVID-19 Road Trip
Morgantown, West Virginia – Feburary, 2021

The post 7 Powerful Lessons From a Cross-Country COVID-19 Road Trip appeared first on Matthew Gove Blog.

The most ironic part of it all is that COVID-19 itself was what forced me to make this trip. COVID-19 had cut me off from my family on the east coast for over a year and a half. It left me essentially stranded on an island all by myself. Add on top of that all of the violent politically-motivated threats I had been receiving doing mundane tasks such as getting the mail and buying groceries and the choice became painfully obvious.

I based my travel rules and strategy off of my road trip to visit relatives in Oregon last summer. You can read the full list of travel protocols here, but the primary rules include:

• Self-isolate for two weeks prior to departing
• Do not enter any public buildings
• Do not stop for anything other than quick fuel and bathroom breaks
• Wear N-95 masks whenever you’re outside the truck
• No foreign objects are to enter the truck cab

For pandemic travel, a summer road trip from Arizona to Oregon was one thing. A cross-country odyssey in the middle of winter ratcheted up the complexity exponentially. And that’s before taking into account the US averaging nearly 250,000 new cases per day just a few weeks prior to departing.

Where Do You Get Your COVID-19 Data From?

I get all of my data from John’s Hopkins University. In addition to their COVID-19 dashboard, John’s Hopkins also publishes their data repository publicly on GitHub.

Moving the COVID-19 Data into a Database

The John’s Hopkins data repository consists of a collection of Comma Separated Values files. CSV files work fine for archiving data, but are unwieldy if you want to make any calculations with said data. Don’t even think about scaling up as the pandemic progresses. Larger CSV files will quickly bloat and bog down even the most efficient code that tries to parse and analyze them.

The easiest solution is to put the data into a database. In addition to being faster, you can also make complex queries from a database. That’s simply not an option with a CSV file without complex coding. Our COVID-19 dashboard, model, and Python scripts can all connect to the database for easy analysis of that data.

Automate the Data Entry Process

Our COVID-19 database currently has over 1.4 million rows of data from countries, states, territories, and counties. Because the database is updated daily, any manual data entry is beyond a Herculean effort. We use Python and Bash script to enter the data. The automated scripts update the database in only a couple of minutes.

1. Download the latest data from the John’s Hopkins COVID-19 GitHub repository.
2. Back up the database so it can easily be restored if something goes wrong.
3. Call a Python script that parses the CSV file and adds the data to the database.
4. Export the updated database and upload it to our COVID-19 dashboard.

Adding Geographic Data

Because so many of our applications use geographic or location data, we have a centralized database of geographic data. That geodatabase contains data about countries, states/provinces, cities, and much more around the world.

For each entity, the Python script looks up its primary key in the geodatabase and adds it to the COVID-19 database. The entity names are not stored in the COVID-19 database. You can also use the ISO codes, such as “us”, “mx”, and “fr”, to link to the geodatabase.

How Do You Display the COVID-19 Data?

When the COVID-19 outbreak first started in January, 2020, the Johns Hopkins dashboard was the only resource available. However, I found their map increasingly difficult to read as the pandemic rapidly spread across the globe. By the end of March, I had launched my own COVID-19 dashboard. It’s come a long way in the past year. The COVID-19 dataset now includes state data in 17 countries, and data for all territories around the world.

The Matthew Gove Web Development map also comes with a timeline so you see how the pandemic has progressed over time. You can only view the most recent data on the John’s Hopkins site.

How Do You Put COVID-19 Data to Work to Stay Safe on the Road?

I planned my route the same way you choose a target area when you go storm chasing. The strategy for storm chasing is pleasantly simple.

1. Consider several parameters that tell you where storms are going to form.
2. Look for trends in those parameters in both the actual data and model predictions.
3. Determine when those parameters will all be in place and maximized simultaneously.
4. Go to the location at the time the parameters show the greatest likelihood of storms.

Obviously, when dealing with a once-in-a-century pandemic, your goal is to figure out where the parameters will all be minimized. You want to be passing areas where you are least likely to contract COVID-19.

What Parameters Do You Use to Evaluate COVID-19 Risk Level?

While I initially considered as many parameters as possible there are four that I most heavily rely on. You can look at these at the country, state, and county level.

• Daily New Cases
• 14-Day Trend in Daily New Cases
• Odds any One Person is Infected
• Number of Active Cases

It is easy to analyze each parameter on the COVID-19 dashboard map. Unfortunately, my COVID-19 model cannot output forecasts for all four of the above parameters. Sure, you can update the model, but why not find a much easier way that uses the existing model.

Enter Matt’s Risk Index

Instead of updating the model output, let’s instead combine those four parameters into a simple index that the existing model can easily predict. The best way to combine the parameters is to use a weighted average. We’ll use normalized per capita data so the risk can be calculated at any level, including country, state, and county. Let’s start with a base equation for the risk index.

Next, we need to figure out what our weights will be. Not surprisingly, there’s an easy way and a hard way to do it. You could simply use trial and error to see what works. However, that is no different than just taking a wild guess and seeing what sticks.

Instead, we’ll break it into a logical two-step process to get much more precise scaling factors. First, we’ll scale the parameters so they’re all the same order of magnitude. This prevents the issue of 5,000 new daily cases having far more weight than a 1% someone is infected.

Next, all you have to do is determine how much weight you want to give each parameter. Then just multiply the two scaling factors together. When it was all said and done, I was left with the following equation to calculate the risk index. To keep the math simple, I rounded each scaling factor down to the nearest factor of 10ⁿ.

Finally, the risk index is rounded up to the nearest whole number before being output. It’s as simple as that

Modeling: The Holy Grail of COVID-19 Safety

As the world shut down and business ground to a halt just about a year ago, it piqued both my passion for mathematical modeling and my interest in the so many unknowns at the time. I decided to use the spare time to build my own COVID-19 model. The model runs in a Jupyter Notebook (Python), and the code is publicly available for download on my COVID-19 dashboard.

The Susceptible – Infected – Removed Model

Like so many COVID-19 models out there, mine is built on the foundation of the Susceptible – Infected – Removed, or SIR model. The SIR model uses a system of three differential equations to forecast how an infectious disease spreads through a population over time. If you want more details, we covered the mathematics and design of the SIR model in detail both last April and last March.

My COVID-19 model uses several parameters to make its predictions.

My model pulls city, state, and country names from the master geodatabase. It also gives you the option to enter all four parameters manually for a completely customized scenario.

Assumptions

Every model is only as good as the assumptions it makes. I know I sound like broken record saying this, but it’s critically important. When you create a mathematical model, you want to minimize the number of assumptions it makes. The more assumptions you make, the less accurate your model will be. The SIR model is no different in the assumptions that it makes.

• R Naught is constant throughout the duration of the pandemic
  • You can run the SIR model in piecewise chunks to approximate changes in R Naught values over time
• The population is evenly distributed throughout the entity being modeled.
  • As a result, the SIR model is much more accurate modeling small entities such as counties and cities.

Aside: What’s a Piecewise Analysis

A piecewise analysis has different expressions and parameters depending on where on the x-axis it’s being evaluated. In the case of COVID-19 models, those parameters vary over time.

Matt’s Risk Index Changes the Modeling Game

Combining our 4 key parameters into one index that can be displayed on a single map or figure is significant. I designed the risk index primarily for this trip, specifically with modeling in mind. In addition to the predicted levels of risk index, the model also outputs the exact date the risk level crosses the danger threshold in either direction. Being able to model down as far as the county level and know exactly when it would be safe to travel really put a lot of worries to rest.

Limitations of the Model

Because of the simplicity of the SIR model, it can only model one wave or surge of COVID-19 at a time. Interestingly, I found that as long as you fit the model’s output curve to the current or most recent surge, it does not matter how poor a fit any previous surges are. The model’s predictions will be the same. Therefore, you don’t have to add the complexity of breaking the pandemic into chunks, fitting each wave individually, and stitching them back together in a piece wise analysis.

Unfortunately, it also means that the model cannot predict any future surges until they begin. Again, you can use a piece wise method to predict additional waves. But don’t forget that models rapidly lose their accuracy the further into the future you run them. I decided That my model would be both much simpler and much more accurate focusing on short-term predictions. We won’t worry about any future COVID-19 surges until we’re done with the current one.

You Must Consider Other Models to Make the Most Accurate Predictions

Because each model makes different assumptions and has different limitations, you can get around any road blocks by looking at multiple models. This is the exact strategy weather forecasters use.

Consider the following scenario. Its the fall of 2012 and a new hurricane named Sandy just formed in the Caribbean. You’re in charge of issuing warnings and evacuation orders based on the model predictions.

As Hurricane Sandy clears the Bahamas and the Turks and Caicos islands in the northern Caribbean, you turn your attention to the east coast of the United States. You’re only looking at one model to make your decisions. It’s a well-known model that is trusted throughout the meteorological community.

This model shows Hurricane Sandy running parallel to the coast of Florida, Georgia, and the Carolinas, staying far enough offshore to not cause any major disruptions. Once Sandy gets north of Cape Hatteras, the model shows it making a gentle turn to the northeast, and passing harmlessly out to sea between Bermuda and New England. Because you’re only looking at this one model, you decline to issue any warnings or evacuations on the east coast. By the time Sandy makes its hard left turn and puts New Jersey in its crossbars, its too late to safely conduct an evacuation.

Amazingly, this scenario could have actually played out in real life. While every model out there showed Sandy making a hard left turn and slamming into New Jersey, there was one stubborn ensemble run of the GFS model that kept bringing the storm harmlessly out to sea. Thankfully, no professional weather forecasters are that incompetent. Officials issued warnings and evacuations long before Sandy arrived, and were able to get everyone out of harm’s way.

What Other COVID-19 Models Did You Use to Make Your Official Decision?

In addition to my own model, I also analyzed the following models in my official prediction.

• Institute for Health Metrics and Evaluation (IHME) model from the University of Washington
  • Both the Trump and Biden Administrations, along with numerous medical experts and governors have referenced the IHME model extensively.
• The COVID-19 Simulator
  • Run by a team of infectious disease doctors from Georgia Tech, Harvard Medical School, Massachusetts General Hospital, and the Boston University School of Medicine

How Did the Models Perform?

Before we dive into performance, let’s go back to last fall and revisit the official predictions we made based off of my model, the IHME model, and the COVID-19 Simulator. After a thorough analysis of the three models on 14 November, 2020, we made the following forecast.

The peak of the winter wave will occur around New Year’s Day (1 January, 2021)

There will be 320,000 to 400,000 new daily COVID-19 cases in the United States at the peak of the winter wave

By next spring, there will be 30 to 50 million total confirmed COVID-19 cases in the United States

Matt’s Official COVID-19 Forecast on 14 November, 2020, based on three models

So how did we do? I’ll let the results speak for themselves.

Thankfully, all three models remained largely in agreement throughout the winter, so I felt very confident in letting the models guide my decisions. The finer details of timing and route were tricky to nail down, but the models got it right in the end. I made it across the country safely without contracting COVID-19.

Up Next

To wrap up the series, we’ll look at lessons learned and observations made traversing a country that’s so bitterly divided and has lacked so much leadership throughout the course of this once-in-a-century pandemic. Make sure to come back next Friday at 9 AM Pacific Time. See you then.

Top Photo: Badwater Backcountry
Death Valley National Park, California – February, 2020

The post Exclusive Endeavor: A Compelling Lesson in COVID-19 Numerical Modeling appeared first on Matthew Gove Blog.

• Hotels
• Public Restaurants
• Restaurants
• Stores

During my last few days in Norman, the strangest feeling set in. I have driven this route a gazillion and a half times over the past decade. Yet I felt like I was just standing at the edge of the map about to drive off into the unknown. It’s just one of those weird things pandemic life does to you.

Arkansas: Did Someone Say Air Conditioning?

As I crossed the border from Oklahoma into Arkansas, a weird sense of relief washed over me. With a couple brief exceptions, I will be in states with mask mandates for the rest of the trip. In addition, I could finally put over 2,000 kilometers (1,200 mi) of Interstate 40 behind me. It felt so good to be out on the back roads and away from the semi trucks on the Interstate.

Even Mother Nature decided to throw us a bone. It felt quite deserving after the rather icy greeting she offered in New Mexico, which sent wind chills plunging to -35°F (-37°C). On the contrary, she provided blue skies and warm sunshine for the drive across northeastern Arkansas on US-67.

It didn’t take long before I actually started to feel hot. What a welcome change this was from those icy polar winds ripping down the Oklahoma prairie. Afternoon temperatures climbed to nearly 80°F (27°C). It instantly transported me back to all of those wonderful road trip memories of summers past. It was the last thing I expected on this trip, but I had to turn on the air conditioning to cool down. I was still very much dressed for winter.

Better enjoy it while it lasts, as an old foe has another rude surprise waiting in the wings.

A Meteorological Miscalculation at a Kentucky Campground

I crossed the state line from Tennessee into Kentucky right at sunset. It was still another 7 or so hour drive to reach my overnight stopover at a campground in eastern Kentucky. The drive was largely uneventful. I ran into a few light rain showers passing through Lexington. It was otherwise dry, with temperatures hovering around 60°F (16°C).

Even Without the Weather Factor, This was not a Normal Camping Trip

For those of you who are unfamiliar with some of my photography adventures, I have camped out in the truck plenty of times before. This was far from my first rodeo. However, there were a few distinct differences.

• I normally sleep in the truck bed because you can fit an air mattress or camping pad and a sleeping bag back there very comfortably. There was so much stuff in the back this trip that I was forced to sleep in the cab.
• I’m used camping in the dry, arid climates out west in the summertime. That doesn’t exactly describe eastern Kentucky in February.

Once again, I managed to fall victim to a musing misfortune of a meteorological miscalculation. Sigh.

The Weather Seemed Nice Enough

After a careful analysis of the weather models, I had concluded that the Polar Vortex had cleared out of the area. Nighttime temperatures would be plenty warm for comfortable camping, dipping only into the 50s F (10s C). In fact, in the summertime, I had camped in much colder temperatures in some of the higher elevations out west. I made reservations at the campground prior to leaving Oklahoma.

One exit west of the campground, I pulled off the freeway for fuel shortly before 1 AM. I couldn’t believe how perfect the weather was for camping. The low-level clouds were starting to break up, and you could feel the humidity dropping. The temperature sat at 58°F (14°C). You didn’t even have to put a jacket on to venture outside and pump the gas. With my weather analysis seemingly confirmed, I was really looking forward to stretching my legs and having a cowboy shower and a change of clothes at the campsite.

The Fatal Flaw in a Seemingly Sound Strategy

The second I exited the freeway to drive the couple of miles to the campground, I realized I had made a critical error in my weather analysis. While I nailed my forecast, I had failed to realize or account for the fact that this campground was about 3,000 feet straight up the side of a mountain. The Polar Vortex had cleared out of the surface layer, but it still raged up above.

Once Again, the Polar Vortex Bites Hard

I immediately found myself on a very narrow and winding road through a heavily wooded forest. Moisture hung in the air, dripping off trees and hitting my windshield like raindrops. Before even reaching a hill, the temperature had dropped to 45°F (7°C).

Things truly turned bizarre once I started up the mountain. Keep in mind, it’s after one o’clock in the morning, and I had never been here before. After starting the ascent, the road became even more narrow, winding, and heavily wooded. It didn’t take long to get back in the snowpack, either. You kept your fingers crossed that you wouldn’t meet another car coming the other direction. Just passing each other would be sketchy. And that’s before taking into account the steep drop-offs on my side of the road or the high risk of black ice further up the mountain.

About a third of the way up the mountain, weird plumes of fog began to slowly waft across the road. By now, the temperature had dropped to 34°F (1°C). All of a sudden, I rounded a very sharp corner and had to put my foot to the floor slamming on the brakes.

Back in the Twilight Zone

At this point, I felt like I was back in the twilight zone. I couldn’t believe my eyes. There were trees and limbs down all over the road. They had obviously come down very recently. Thankfully, after the initial shock wore off, the road was still passable. There was ample room to tiptoe your way through the hazard. You couldn’t help but keep thinking in the back of your mind, “gee, I hope there aren’t any more trees that come down in the middle of the night and, you know, trap me in here.” I had a saw with me, but it gave me little comfort thinking about the potential marathon cutting through that many trees.

After what felt like an eternity (it was at most 15 minutes), I reached the campsite. My campsite of choice was accessible from the pavement, but out of the way enough that I wouldn’t be disturbed should anyone drive through in the middle of the night. I pulled off the pavement and onto the snowpack to park for the night. Mother Nature threw her last curveball.

A Hidden River Under the Snow

Almost instantly, the truck fell through the snowpack’s top crust and buried itself in about 6 inches of slush and soft mud. Even with four wheel drive, it struggled mightily to move just a few feet. I inched it forward as far as I could and parked it. Hopefully, with temperatures now down to 29°F (-2°C), my tracks would freeze up enough to make getting out a little easier. Yes, it was a bit of a gamble, but it was one I was more than willing to take. Then it began to lightly rain. So much for stretching my legs and having a cowboy shower. Hard to believe that less than 12 hours ago, it was 80 degrees and I had the air conditioning on.

Unfortunately, I couldn’t go to sleep just yet. I still had to move some gear from the back seat to the truck bed so I could recline the seat. To add insult to injury, my heavy boots were in the truck bed, leaving me with just lightweight sneakers to take on the mud pit. I gingerly stepped out onto the crust of the snowpack, hoping that my feet wouldn’t go through it like my tires had.

Much to my amazement, the snowpack held, but I know that one misstep and I’d be ankle deep in mud. The snowpack still needed to be tested carrying the extra weight of the gear I had to move. I came very close to breaking through a few times stepping over the area where the tires had already gone through, but I got the gear moved, and could finally recline the seat and doze off.

While I Never Felt in any Sort of Danger, the Scenery was Straight Out of the Beginning of Every Horror Movie

I drifted in and out of sleep until I fully awoke just after 3 AM to pale moonlight shining through the window. I rolled over and looked out. The rain had stopped, and skies had begun to clear. A bright full moon shone through the silhouetted bare trees swaying back and forth in the icy wind. There was not a sound to be heard, just the hum of the wind blowing through the trees. A heavy chill had settled into the truck, as the wintry mountain air had slowly sucked the heat out of the cab. I started the truck and turned the heater on.

As I waited for the cab to warm back up, I watched the trees sway back and forth in the pale moonlight. Even though the campground was well-known and as safe as safe could be, it was completely and utterly deserted. I was the only one there. It was hard to shake that one nagging thought that kept prodding the back of your mind: I’m pretty sure this is how all horror movies start.

After about 10 or 15 minutes, the truck had warmed back up. I shut off the engine and tried to go back to sleep. However, you can’t unthink the thoughts about horror movies. You try to block them out as best you can, but the only sleep you can drift off into is a restless one. I managed to doze until about 4:15 AM. At that point I knew that the odds of getting back to sleep were pretty slim.

Backtracking Out of the Campground

Now comes the hard part: getting out. As I got out to move everything back into driving mode, I was relieved to see that the freezing temperatures had worked their magic and hardened up the snowpack. While it make moving the gear around much easier, backing the truck out of the campsite was a much different story.

Even with four-wheel drive, you need to be very gentle on the throttle to get a vehicle moving and keep it in control on snow and ice. The last thing you want to do is spin the tires and wind up in the ditch. I put the truck in reverse and very slowly started to depress the accelerator. The truck didn’t budge. The wheels had partially frozen in place.

There’s a Right Way and Wrong Way to Free Yourself

Thankfully, all you need is a little extra gas to break the wheels free. However, there is a right way and wrong way to do it. Give it too much throttle and the truck will go shooting across the road and into the ditch on the other side. Don’t give it enough and it won’t break free.

The secret to pulling this off successfully is to use low four wheel drive. Low four wheel drive sends extra power and torque to the wheels, at the cost of speed. You can’t drive much faster than about 20 mph. This is exactly what we want to prevent us from flying across the road when the wheels break free.

In low four-wheel drive, the wheels broke free right away and the truck walked right back up onto the road. It was a bit tricky finding the pavement under all the snow and ice, but I managed to do so without incident. It was slow-going navigating down the steep, narrow, winding mountain roads and back around all of the downed trees, black ice, and fog. I was back on the freeway before I knew it.

Making a Fool of Myself in New Jersey After 40 Plus Straight Hours in the Car

I originally planned to spend the night at our family farmhouse in New Jersey instead of the campground. The house has no electricity or running water, so you’d still very much be camping. It has a spectacular fire place and plenty of room to spread out and stretch out.

However, a monster nor’easter struck the northeast and mid-Atlantic shortly before my trip. It buried New Jersey and eastern Pennsylvania under nearly 4 feet of snow. With the property completely snowed-in, I had to make other arrangements.

Even though I couldn’t spend the night there, it was the perfect place to stop and have lunch. More importantly, it was a safe place to stretch my legs after 40 some odd straight hours in the car. With the exception of quick stops to get gas, I hadn’t gotten out of the truck since I left Norman, Oklahoma the previous day.

As Graceful as a Baby Giraffe

If you’ve ever seen a newborn giraffe try to get up and walk around, that was me on the street in front of the farmhouse. My legs had all but turned to rubber. But it felt so good to be out of the truck and moving around.

I had been in the truck for about the same amount of time it would have taken to fly from Los Angeles to Bangkok and back. Interestingly, it felt both like I had been driving non-stop for days and like I had only been driving for about 5 minutes since I left Norman. That’s far from the only instance that Covid has warped the sense of time.

Unfortunately, it also warped my sense of time for how long I had stopped. By the time it felt like I had finally stopped to decompress, I looked at the clock. Much to my dismay, over 2 hours had passed since I arrived at the farmhouse. It was after 3:30 PM. There was no way I would make it through New York City before rush hour.

The Final Leg

I begrudgingly got back in the truck to drive the last segment from New Jersey to Massachusetts. When we would take family trips to see relatives in New Jersey when I was a kid, it felt like you were driving half way around the world. At the end of this pandemic odyssey, the timing felt more like driving down the street to go to the grocery store.

Thankfully, the COVID-19 pandemic still kept a significant segment of the New York workforce remote. Traffic on the New York Thruway flowed smoothly, looking much more like mid-day than rush hour. I hit a few brief slowdowns on the Merritt Parkway once I got into Connecticut. Other than that, you could travel at the speed limit on both the Merritt and on Interstate 95.

One Last Hurdle

Massachusetts is one of the states that is pretty strict about people coming in from out of state. Everyone coming from a high-risk state must fill out a travel affidavit stating that you have not been knowingly exposed to COVID-19 or have any symptoms. At the time I arrived, the only state that was not considered high risk was Hawaii. You must then quarantine for 10 days upon arrival.

Interestingly, they ask that you submit the travel form before you arrive in Massachusetts. There is no penalty if you don’t, though. I meant to fill it out during my stop in New Jersey, but got distracted laughing at myself over the baby giraffe incident. However, I had been treating state lines like crossing international borders. It dawned on me as I crossed into Rhode Island that I hadn’t yet filled out the travel form. I filled it out a rest area just inside the Rhode Island state line before continuing on to my final destination in Massachusetts.

Mandatory Quarantine

I was lucky enough to have a friend who was in Florida for the winter. They offered their summer house to do my quarantine. It was a relief not worrying about exposing my mom and dad to anything I picked up on the road. The quarantine went smoothly. I got caught up on a lot of work. However, I did find myself playing peek-a-boo with a pigeon on more than one occasion.

Up Next

Go behind the scenes next week and look at the data, modeling, and strategy sessions that kept me safe on this unique and memorable journey. All that, and much more right here next Friday at 9 AM Pacific Time. See you then.

Top Image: A Beautiful Morning Drive in the Appalachians
Morgantown, West Virginia – 25 February, 2021

The post Pioneering Peril, Part 2: Pandemic Polar Vortex Camping in Kentucky appeared first on Matthew Gove Blog.

As I began planning my COVID-19 cross-country road trip last fall, my goal was to avoid the worst of winter across the midwest and northeast. Little did I know that the North Pole would come down and so kindly greet me as I crossed Tornado Alley. The Polar Vortex shattered all kinds of records and left several states – most notably Texas – under a significant emergency.

What is the Polar Vortex?

The Polar Vortex is a large area of very cold air that circulates around both the North and South Poles in the wintertime. Under normal conditions, the stability of the atmosphere keeps the Polar Vortex locked around the poles.

However, certain triggers high above the Earth can cause the Polar Vortex to rapidly destabilize and plunge southward (northward in the Southern Hemisphere) into the mid-latitudes. One particularly powerful trigger occurred in late January, 2021.

What Triggers the Polar Vortex to Destabilize?

To understand how the Polar Vortex behaves, we must travel about 20 to 50 km above the earth’s surface, well above where any weather happens or any airplanes fly. This part of the atmosphere is known as the stratosphere, and contains the far outer ranges of where weather balloons can travel.

Temperatures in the stratosphere are frigid. In the past 40 years, meteorologists have measured temperatures as low as -96°C (-141°F) in the stratosphere. Those cold temperatures are what holds the Polar Vortex in place above the poles.

Armed with that knowledge, you can probably deduce what causes the Polar Vortex to destabilize: a sudden and significant warming of the stratosphere. That’s exactly what happened in January, 2021. In less than 24 hours, the stratosphere warmed by 45°C, or 81°F. It was one of the most extreme stratospheric temperature swings ever recorded.

The January, 2021 destabilization was so powerful that it caused the Polar Vortex to completely fracture in half. One half plunged into the central and eastern parts of the United States and Canada. The other half dove south into Siberia. Temperatures in Yakutsk, Russia dropped to a bone-chattering -58°C (-73°F).

Have We Seen a Polar Vortex Like This Before?

You don’t have to go back very far to find a similar meteorological setup. In January, 2015, meteorologists observed a similar warming of the stratosphere above the North Pole. Shortly thereafter, the Polar Vortex split, sending parts of the US, Canada, and Russia into one of their coldest and snowiest winters ever.

One particularly interesting phenomenon is how the strong Polar Vortex makes the east coast of both the US and Canada so vulnerable to major snowstorms. Indeed, two blizzards crippled New England on 27 January and 15 February, 2015. That was only the beginning of a true snowmageddon winter.

Between the two storms, many locations in southeast New England received between 6 and 8 feet of snow. Boston was one of many cities that ran out of places to dump their plowed snow. Even once summer arrived, you’d still see some snow piles driving around. There was so much snow piled so high it took that long to melt. Not surprisingly, we all got a pretty bad case of cabin fever that winter.

Thankfully, 2021 did not suffer the same fate.

A Beautiful Day Across Central New Mexico

If you hadn’t looked at the weather before hand, you would have had no idea what lay ahead with the Polar Vortex. Temperatures were unseasonably warm as I made my way across the high deserts of eastern Arizona and western New Mexico.

As I descended into Albuquerque, the mercury topped 70°F (21°C). Even with strong winds, it made for very pleasant driving. However, once I climbed back out of the valley, things really began to change. Thick mid-level clouds replaced the warm sun and blue skies. You definitely had that feeling of “something crazy is about to happen” in the air.

Santa Rosa, New Mexico: Running Head-On into a Freight Train of Cold Air

If you’ve ever driven Interstate 40 across New Mexico, you know that it’s largely a vast emptiness of open desert. Aside from the occasional blink-and-you-miss-it town, you’re at the mercy of Mother Nature.

As I got further east of Albuquerque, that layer of mid-level clouds got progressively thicker, darker, and lower. Despite the ominous outlook, temperatures remained quite pleasant, hovering around 65°F (18°C). As I approached the town of Santa Rosa, New Mexico, things took a dramatic turn.

When I lived in Oklahoma as a meteorology student, I saw my fair share of wild weather. Whether it was EF-5 tornadoes, ferocious wildfires, thundersleet, a quakenado, or massive hail, it was nothing like what I saw punching through the Polar Vortex. Just when I thought I had seen it all, Mother Nature threw me something new. Wrap your head around this temperature drop.

For a different perspective, here is that same data on a time-series graph. Click on the graph to enlarge it.

And to think, this was just the tip of the iceberg.

Entering the Freezing Fog Twilight Zone in Texas

Between storm chasing, road trips, and photography adventures, I’ve driven across the Texas panhandle more times than I can remember. My favorite part of the drive is looking out at the open prairie. You can see forever, and really gives you a sense of freedom being on the open road.

What a contrast this trip turned out to be! As a result of the Polar Vortex invasion, we were treated to one of the rarest, and surprisingly, most dangerous weather phenomena in Texas: freezing fog.

What is Freezing Fog?

Freezing fog is no different than regular fog, with one distinct difference. Water droplets in freezing fog are supercooled, meaning that they are below freezing, but remain in liquid form.

Why do they remain as a liquid if they’re below freezing? Water molecules freeze much more efficiently when they are in contact with other particles versus being pure water. These particles can include sand, dust, minerals in tap water, and objects such as trees and vehicles.

Fog forms when water vapor condenses out of the air. Those fog droplets are pure water, and therefore freeze less efficiently.

Why is Freezing Fog so Dangerous?

Whenever water remains in a supercooled state, it poses an enormous risk to both vehicles and airplanes. Remember that we just reviewed how water freezes much more efficiently when in contact with other particles than when it is pure water?

When a supercooled water droplet comes into contact with something other than pure water, it instantly freezes. While freezing fog coming into contact with trees and grasses is largely harmless, it’s a much different story when it freezes on roads, overpasses, and your vehicle. Black ice is dangerous enough to begin with. It’s even more so in places like Texas that are not used to seeing it.

How Does Freezing Fog Form in a Hot, Arid Climate Like West Texas?

Warm air can hold much more moisture than cold air. Most of that moisture is in the air as water vapor. We measure it with either the dewpoint or the relative humidity.

When air cannot hold any more moisture, it reaches saturation. Any more moisture that gets added after that condenses out either as clouds or precipitation. There are two ways to reach saturation.

• Add moisture to the environment. You see this when the bathroom fogs up as you take a shower.
• Lower the temperature of the environment. There is no better example of this than when you see your breath on a cold day. Your warm breath has more moisture than the ambient cold air can hold, so it condenses out as a fog.

The powerful cold front I had punched through in eastern New Mexico had swept across the Texas Panhandle only a few hours earlier. Even in an arid environment like West Texas, the temperature dropped so extremely and rapidly that the air could not hold what little moisture it had. As a result, the excess moisture condensed into a freezing fog.

It was almost as if you could see Mother Nature’s breath.

Enter the Polar Vortex Twilight Zone

Being used to crossing the Texas panhandle in the summertime made this experience even more unique. The freezing fog shrouded everything in an eerie haze reminiscent of some kind of twilight zone. In addition, the Polar Vortex had been in place just long enough to start coating the landscape with a visible layer of ice. The setting late afternoon sun made that haze even eerier.

The deeper I got into Texas, the longer the bitter cold Polar Vortex air had been entrenched in place. Temperatures continued to plummet. Not surprisingly, the fog got thicker the further east I got. The setting sun slowly swallowed you into that twilight zone of darkness.

Things got even weirder as I crossed into Oklahoma.

Oklahoma? More Like Snow-klahoma!

How many times have you seen something bad happen and thought, “that won’t happen here”? I’ve done it more times than I care to admit, including this trip. Once I crossed the state line into Oklahoma, it didn’t take long for me to realize the full seriousness and severity of the Polar Vortex. At a gas station in Elk City, I noticed that both the windshield cleaner and the hand sanitizer had frozen solid as I fought 50 mph (80 km/h) winds and -11°F (-24°C) wind chills to fill my gas tank.

The Polar Vortex Flexes Its Muscles

Less than 48 hours after arriving in Norman, the first of back-to-back snowstorms hit the Southern Plains. After just a few days of wild weather we had shattered all kinds of winter weather records.

Most notably, the National Weather Service measured the coldest temperatures ever recorded in the State of Oklahoma. The only Oklahoma saw colder temperatures occurred in the late 1800s, when it was still the Indian Territory.

Thankfully, the snow didn’t stick around for very long. Temperatures rapidly warmed as the Polar Vortex pulled out of the area. In true Oklahoma fashion, we were walking around in shorts and t-shirts less than a week later as temperatures soared to 74°F (23°C).

Having Fun with Physics During a Power Outage in Sub-Zero Polar Vortex Temperatures

It often feels daunting when you lose power during a storm. Initial panic sets in that much more when the power goes out when it’s -5°F (-21°C) out and blowing over 30 mph (50 km/h). That’s the exact situation we found ourselves in the middle of the heaviest snow during my stay in Oklahoma.

I awoke in the middle of the night. As I reached for my phone to check the time, I noticed that it felt chilly in the house. I figured the thermostat had been turned down at night, and I didn’t think much of it. It was about 5:15 AM, so I decided to check the weather on my phone to see how cold it had gotten.

Much to my surprise, my phone could not connect to the internet. Not only was the WiFi out, I had no cell service, either. Being in the middle of a city of 125,000 people, something was very wrong.

I sat up and noticed that all of the night lights in the hallway were flickering and and off. I kept thinking, was I back in the twilight zone I was in driving here? At that point, I knew it was only a matter of time before the power company pulled the plug.

Less than 5 minutes later, the power went out for good. All you could hear was the wind, the snow, and the transformers blowing up nearby. At that point, there wasn’t much I could do, so I rolled over and went back to sleep.

Physics and Thermodynamics: An Alternate Source of Entertainment

If you’ve ever studied physics, chemistry, or thermodynamics, you’ve probably heard of the ideal gas law. While it has its limitations, the law is a good approximation of many gases, including air, under many conditions. Mathematically, it is defined as:

pV = nRT

where

• p is the pressure
• V is the volume
• n is the amount of gas
• R is the ideal gas constant
• T is the temperature

Now, here’s where the fun starts. I slept on an air mattress while I was in Norman. Because the power was out, the heat in the house did not work, so the house cooled off. In terms of the ideal gas law, we know that R is already constant. Inside the sealed air mattress, both the amount of air (n) and the volume (V) are also constant. We can reduce the ideal gas law to a simple relationship.

p ~ T

In layman’s terms, that equation just means that as temperature changes, the pressure will change in the same manner, and vice versa. We were now about 3 hours into the power outage, and the house was really starting to feel cold. As the temperature continued to drop, I could feel the air mattress getting softer and softer until I could feel my butt hit the floor underneath the mattress.

Here’s the best part. Shortly after 8 AM, the power came back on. It was cold in the house, so I decided to stay in my nice warm sleeping bag until the heat could work its magic. As the house warmed back up, the air mattress reinflated as the pressure inside increased. Before I knew it, the ideal gas law had lifted my backside up off the floor, and the house had returned to its normal temperature.

Up Next

As memorable as my stopover in Oklahoma has been, this is not the end of my dance with the Polar Vortex and Old Man Winter. Next week, we’ll continue east and see if it really was that wise of a decision to go camping in the mountains in Kentucky in February…in the middle of an ice storm. All that and more right here next Friday at 9 AM Pacific Time. See you then.

Top Photo: Heavy Snow Falls During the Polar Vortex
Norman, Oklahoma – February, 2021

The post Pioneering Peril: A Pandemic Polar Vortex in Tornado Alley appeared first on Matthew Gove Blog.

Lessons From My Road Trip to Oregon Last Summer

This trip is actually not my first foray out of Arizona during the COVID-19 pandemic. Last summer, I drove to Oregon to get a reprieve from Arizona’s summer COVID-19 spike and its relentless summer heat. In 2020, we had over 50 days of high temperatures above 110°F (44°C), which shattered the old record of 33. The Oregon trip was eye-popping, making me realize the complete callousness and carelessness of Arizona’s attitude toward the pandemic.

What a Difference Crossing the State Line Makes

On the Oregon road trip, my first gas stop was in Kingman, Arizona. I almost always stop in Kingman on trips that take me to California and Nevada. Kingman has always been safe and welcoming, and I have never once felt any hint of sketchiness or being unsafe.

I followed the same rules on the Oregon trip as I did this road trip. As a result, I wore N-95 masks every gas stop because I did not want to bring COVID-19 to Oregon with me. As I gassed up in Kingman, I noticed that a crowd had started to gather around me. They did not look happy, either. By the time I finished pumping the gas, the crowd was circling me much in the same way a group of lions closes in on a wounded gazelle. Thankfully, I left without incident.

Who Knew What to Expect Crossing into Nevada

Fast forward a few hours. I’m north of Las Vegas, and it’s time for my second gas stop. As I pulled into the gas station, every pump had a handwritten sign on it. That sign said in both English and Spanish, “No Mask, No Service”. I thought okay, feeling much less sketched out now.

Shortly after I started fueling, a car pulled into the other side of the pump. I was cautiously curious to see what would happen, since I had received death threats over masks in similar situations in Arizona. A middle-aged couple got out of the car, and they were both masked. This was the exact moment it started setting in just how completely batshit crazy Arizona was.

The lady in the other car started pumping gas, and the man started walking towards the convenience store. I noticed that he turned around after he got about half way to the convenience store. As he approached the car, he said “Honey, can you hand me my mask? I can’t go in without it.” That completely blew my mind. I was no more than 50 or 60 miles (80 or 100 km) from the Arizona border. What alternate universe have I ported into?

Oregon Took COVID-19 Seriously, Too

Even in very rural areas, both Oregon and Nevada took things seriously. Everyone wore masks in public, and you could see COVID-19 precautions in place everywhere. People kept their distance and largely stayed out of indoor public places. I felt things were much more controlled in Oregon and Nevada, and felt safer as a result.

All right, back to the present day.

Arizona

Things on this road trip were going to be different than the Oregon trip. So much has changed in just the six months since I drove to Oregon. Most notably, we now have several highly-effective vaccines available, as well as new antiviral treatments.

You don’t have to be on the freeway for long to realize how the pandemic has halted recreational travel. Unlike my summer road trip, my route this trip largely confined me to the Interstate system, whereas I only spent about 45 minutes of the 22-hour drive to Oregon on the Interstate.

You’ll quickly notice that once you’re out of the city, traffic on the freeway is almost exclusively semi trucks and big rigs. This is especially prevalent once you get on a major cross-country artery such as Interstate 40. It’s wintertime, and the pandemic is keeping everybody at home.

Even Mother Nature came through to help get the trip off to a good start. She treated us to spectacular morning driving conditions east of Flagstaff.

New Mexico

Entering New Mexico, I expected a very similar experience to the one I had in Nevada last summer. New Mexico did not disappoint. Right at the state line, they greet you with several signs.

• New Mexicans take COVID-19 seriously
• Masks are required statewide
• People arriving from out of state must quarantine
• If you break the rules, they will fine you.

I suspect that the reason New Mexico keeps reminding you of the rules is that if you exclude the international border, it’s surrounded on two of its remaining three sides by states that routinely flout COVID-19 restrictions and mock the pandemic. Additionally, both east-west arteries through New Mexico – Interstate 40 and Interstate 10 – directly connect those neighboring states that have made a mockery of the pandemic.

Even once you get away from the state line, you will be constantly reminded of the ongoing pandemic. Electronic signs in front of businesses instructed people to mask up, keep your distance, and stay safe. Interestingly, I also felt a sense of optimism in the air as businesses looked forward to adding capacity as COVID-19 cases continue to decline.

Ironically, the only time I really felt sketchy on the entire cross-country road trip occurred in one of the states I expected to feel the safest. The town of Tucumcari sits right on Interstate 40 about 30 miles west of the Texas state line. As I pulled into a gas station in town, I noticed that all of the vehicles there had Texas license plates. It was basically a repeat of what happened in Kingman last summer. It’s unnerving as hell having the angry crowd gathering around you, but once again, I was very grateful to get in and out without incident.

A Sneak Preview: An Icy Reception from the North Pole in Santa Rosa

As I passed through Santa Rosa, New Mexico, I punched through the strongest Polar Vortex to hit the US in recent memory. It brought some of the most wild weather I have ever seen on a road trip.

• Temperature dropped 45°F in 15 minutes
• Freezing fog leads into the twilight zone in the Texas Panhandle
• Wind chills dropped to -35°F (-37°C).
• The State of Oklahoma measured its coldest temperature ever.

Tune in next week for the full story, including pictures.

Texas

The Lone Star State continues to be in complete denial about the events of 2020. While I did not stop in Texas, you can see plenty from the highway as you pass through.

If you were dropped into the Texas panhandle without context, you would have no idea there was a once-in-a-century pandemic going on. The “Twilight Zone” effect from the freezing fog and the polar vortex only made this visit to Texas even weirder.

• Bars, restaurants, and stores in Amarillo were absolutely packed.
• There was not a mask, an effort to stay socially distanced, or any other attempts to contain COVID-19 to be found.
• You’ll see all kinds of political pro-Trump, anti-pandemic, and stolen election signs on the side of the highway.

The weather only continued to deteriorate as I got into Oklahoma.

Western Oklahoma

I always feel like I’m home when I cross the state line from Texas into Oklahoma. It was my route home after so many memorable storm chases, after all. While this road trip did feel a bit like storm chasing, tornadoes were the last thing on my mind as I headed back to my old stomping grounds. While I had prepared for cold weather, I was most certainly not ready for the bitter temperatures that welcomed me back to Oklahoma.

Shortly after dusk, I pulled off the freeway for one of my final gas stops of the day in Elk City, Oklahoma. When you exit onto the eastbound I-40 business loop, you have to travel for several miles through the open prairie before you reach Elk City proper. The gas station I had chosen was west of Elk City, in the open prairie.

Pulling in, I glanced up at the thermometer in the truck. The outside temperature had dropped to 14°F (-10°C). I thought to myself, no big deal, these temperatures are nothing new to me. It doesn’t take that long to pump a tank of gas. I put on my heavy coat, winter hat, and warm gloves. When I opened the door to step out, it completely took my breath away.

There’s a Reason the Chorus of the Musical Oklahoma! is so Famous

If you’ve ever driven across western Oklahoma, you’ll know that it is flat and open. When the wind blows, there is nothing to knock it down. No trees, no hills, no barriers. Nothing. In fact, the terrain slopes ever so slightly downhill as you go from west to east. When the wind has a westerly component, gravity can actually help accelerate the wind as it comes down the prairie.

What I had failed to realize while I was driving was that the polar wind was whipping down the Oklahoma prairie at about 50 mph (80 km/h). While I was dressed appropriately for the cold, I was not dressed for that kind of wind. The conditions in Elk City that evening combined to yield a wind chill of -11°F (-24°C). To add insult to injury, I had parked so the filler nozzle was on the upwind side of the truck, so there was nowhere to hide from the wind.

This was the exact moment it hit me just how severe this Polar Vortex would be. As I clamored back into the truck to warm up, barely able to feel my face, fingers, and toes, I happened to glance down. Both the windshield cleaner and hand sanitizer the gas station had put out were frozen solid. Not slushy or syrupy. Solid.

By the time I got to my friend’s house in Norman, temperatures had dropped into the single digits and bottomed out around -5°F (-21°C) the next morning. And that was only the beginning.

Up Next

Tune in next time to hear the full details of my tango with the Polar Vortex. Temperatures were much more reminiscent of northern Alaska in February than the southern plains. We’ll enter the twilight zone in Texas. In Oklahoma, experience power outages as wind chills dropped to -35°F (-37°C) while getting buried under a foot of snow.

Then, in true Oklahoma fashion, less than a week later, we were walking around in t-shirts and shorts as temperatures soared to 75°F (24°C). See you next week.

Top Photo: The Morning Sun Illuminates Palo Duro Canyon
Amarillo, Texas – August, 2019

The post COVID-19 Road Trip Journal: Wild Weather in the Wild West appeared first on Matthew Gove Blog.

You may have noticed that I’ve been absent from posting on here the past few weeks. The reason is because I have been on an odyssey of a road trip across the United States. I am now in mandatory quarantine at my final destination and will be publishing a series of posts over the next several weeks about what taking a road trip across the United States in the middle of both the winter and a once in a century pandemic was like.

Am I Crazy? Why the Hell Am I Traveling?

Before diving in, I want to emphasize that this trip is not a vacation or a holiday. The decision to travel was not an easy one, and the trip took months of planning to pull off safely and successfully. In the end, it boiled down to a couple of reasons.

1. The primary purpose of the road trip is to be with my family and help them through the rest of the pandemic. My mom and dad both fall into the higher risk category for COVID-19. Any way I can help them with things like running errands and grocery shopping is that much less they have to worry about.
2. Despite the fact that I don’t touch politics with a 10-foot pole and consider myself an apolitical person, I have received numerous threats of politically-motivated violence in Arizona going back to last summer. It’s only been getting worse over the past few months. Many of my family and friends have been legitimately concerned about my safety.

The Bubble: Your Secret to a Safe COVID-19 Road Trip

The bubble didn’t become a mainstream part of the COVID-19 vocabulary until the NBA and the NHL resumed their seasons last summer. Both leagues wanted to establish a COVID-free environment that was isolated from the outside world to safely conduct their playoffs.

The two leagues used a slightly different strategy to establish their bubbles. The NBA brought all of its teams into a single bubble in Orlando, Florida. On the other hand, the NHL used two bubbles. Western Conference teams went into a bubble in Edmonton, Alberta, while Eastern Conference teams established a bubble in Toronto, Ontario. Using rigorous testing and strict entry and exit protocols, neither league reported a single COVID-19 case the entire two-plus months they were in the bubble.

General Bubble Strategy

You can establish a bubble for any reason. In fact, I highly recommend it to stay safe during the pandemic. All bubbles should follow the same basic rules.

1. Establish a strict and specific protocol for how people must safely enter and exit the bubble.
2. You can put as many or as few people in the bubble as you wish. However, I recommend minimizing the number of people in your bubble.
3. Don’t go in and out of the bubble. Once you’re in the bubble, plan to stay there for the duration.

My General Bubble Strategy for Road Trips

We’ll go into details shortly, but I tried to keep my general road trip bubble strategy simple.

1. Stay completely isolated except for when I stay with people I highly trust
2. Establish a “clean” zone in the house and truck. Nothing enters that zone without being sanitized and/or quarantined first.
3. Keep all “contaminated” items in a designated, sealed off area. Anything that enters from or has contact with the outside world without being sanitized or quarantined is considered “contaminated”

The Bubble is not Foolproof

No matter how well you think you’ve set up your bubble, it is not 100% foolproof. Every bubble has its weak spots and vulnerabilities. You can rest assured that the virus can and will exploit those vulnerabilities. The better you understand those liabilities, the better you will be able to protect yourself.

So what do weak spots in your bubble look like? Consider the NBA and the NHL bubbles last summer. What do you think possible vulnerabilities could be?

• Workers and caterers bringing food in and out of the bubble.
• Hotel cleaning crews sometimes came in from outside the bubble.

How about a travel bubble? On my road trip, the primary weak spot was stopping at gas stations. The risk of contracting COVID-19 from the pumps themselves is low. However, there is plenty of opportunity to come in contact with people who could have come from anywhere.

Rules and Protocols to Stay Safe in Your Road Trip Bubble

Once you identify weak points in your bubble, implement rules to safeguard against those vulnerabilities. What rules would you implement to protect against the fueling vulnerabilities in my bubble? Here’s what I did.

• Fuel up in quiet, rural areas away from the freeway.
• Use gas stations that have plenty of spacing between pumps.
• Wear N-95 masks at all times when outside the truck cab’s “clean” zone.
• Disinfect high-touch surfaces such as the steering wheel, turn signals, and door handles after every stop.
• Sanitize hands and wash them with soap and water for 20 seconds after every stop. Carry soap and water so you don’t have to enter public restrooms.
• Do not touch anything outside the truck cab without gloves on

Not surprisingly, those are far from the only rules we need to implement to stay safe on the trip.

Timing

The timing of the trip is the trickiest, but most crucial aspect to get right. You want to time your trip for when COVID-19 case loads are as low as possible. Factor in complications from snow and ice and it’s like trying to pee through a Cheerio at ten paces. Thankfully, all of the necessary tools are readily available.

As far back as last October, nearly all of the COVID-19 modeling showed new cases in the US peaking in early-to-mid January. Based on patterns from the spring and summer waves, I knew that the best window to travel would likely be 4 to 6 weeks after the peak. Any longer than that and you risk case loads starting to increase again. So how’d we do?

Not perfect, but pretty good given the circumstances.

Driving and Stopping Protocols

• No Toll Roads. The idea here is to avoid contact with toll takers, not save money. Cashless tolls are okay.
• Do not enter any building under any circumstance, except for my friend’s house that I’m staying at or for a serious medical emergency.
• The truck cab is a “clean” zone. No foreign or outside objects are to enter the truck cab.
• A separate, sealed area shall be established in the truck bed to hold “contaminated” items.
• Do not stop other than to get gas, use the restroom, or sleep.
• Nobody other than myself shall enter the truck cab.

Gear to Pack

Because we’re not going into any buildings or public areas, we must carry everything we need to survive. Pack like you’re venturing deep into the backcountry for several weeks. This includes, but is not limited to:

• Food and water. Canned goods are your best friend.
• Blankets and pillows. Be sure you can stay warm during colder months. I had to sleep in the truck in an ice storm in Kentucky.
• Survival Gear. What you pack depends on whether you’ll be dealing with extreme cold or extreme heat, but be sure you can survive if you get stranded somewhere.
• Solar panels. If you get stranded, being able to charge your phone can be the difference between life and death.
• Tools and gear to get your car out if you get stuck. At a bare minimum, I carry saws, a tow strap, and a jumper box.

Pre-Departure

• Self-isolate at home for 2 weeks prior to departure
• All shopping, vehicle maintenance, etc. must be completed prior to entering the bubble

Road Trip Route

• Optimize your route so you’re traveling through as few states as possible while still minimizing travel times.
• Stay out of states without statewide mask mandates
• Avoid states that have high COVID-19 case loads and/or few restrictions.
• Try to stay south so you don’t run into snow, ice, or other winter weather.

Post-Arrival

• Quarantine for 10 days upon arrival as required by state law.
• I recommend self-quarantining at your destination even if there is no mandatory quarantine.

Crossing State Lines

One thing about this whole pandemic that is equally as fascinating as it is head scratching is just how much rules and restrictions vary from state-to-state. What is perfectly okay in one state might get you excoriated in the next.

As a result, I find it easier to treat it like you’re crossing different countries instead of different states. I have found that states fall into one of two categories. They either take the pandemic seriously or they mock it and go out of their way to flout the rules. Regardless of whether or not you agree with them, please obey all state laws and restrictions. They’re in place for a reason.

What’s Next

Next up is the first leg of the trip from Arizona to Oklahoma. Along the way, I run into an unexpected foe – the Polar Vortex – and drive right into some of the most wild weather I’ve ever seen on a trip. Make sure you tune in next week.

Top Photo: Feeling Lucky on my other Covid Road Trip
Las Vegas, Nevada – July, 2020

The post 12 Secrets to Plan a Safe Cross-Country Road Trip During the Pandemic appeared first on Matthew Gove Blog.