The Ultimate Larp

I am no meteorologist. I study computers and numbers and electrons. Sometimes, I study languages and how things move. Yet, today I found myself sitting in Klarman Hall enraptured by Professor Toby Ault’s hour-long talk about his one summer chasing wildfires and smoke across the United States.

His talk, aptly titled “Where there’s smoke…” was the keynote presentation on the first day of the 2nd annual Cornell Weather Conference (CWC). Staying true to my philosophy of eternal curiosity and sidequests, I had gladly registered for the CWC even though I would be the ONLY non-earth/atmospheric sciences major there.

I am so glad I did register! Prof. Ault’s talk was eye-opening on the real sort of fieldwork that EAS researchers do and the undeniably awesome experiences he had.

Where there’s smoke..

Those that live in the northeast/midwest US may recall the smoke that was blown down from Canadian wildfires this summer. It made our skies yellow and gray for over a week, with many regions reaching AQIs of over 200. Some may also remember a similar event in 2023 when similar Canadian wildfires covered us with the smell of an eternal barbeque.

Prof. Ault spent this summer researching this phenomenon exactly – the movement of smoke from wildfires, the chemical makeup of this smoke, and its impact on wildfire firefighters. By haphazardly taping two makeshift AQI/PM2.5 sensors to the side of a Jeep Compass (and some other equipment), Ault drove all the way from Ithaca to Eastern Oregon. Throughout the trip he followed the smoke that had blown downwind from the ongoing Oregon wildfires.

Interestingly, his road trip almost perfectly replicated the path of the Oregon Trail. He later realized the smoke from Oregon had collected and slowly drifted east through valleys and low-altitude paths of least resistance – the exact conditions the Oregon Trail caravans had been looking for as they traveled west. Ault also mentioned some more details about drainage/katabatic winds causing this collection of smoke in valleys.

As he got to Oregon, he was able to speak with many firefighters with decades of experience in wildfire firefighting and S&R. He noted that a particularly sneaky effect of wildfires is they can burn so hot – hot enough to reach bedrock. As the fire burns through the soil, it volatilizes and releases toxins/chemicals/heavy metals previously trapped in the soil. Along with the obvious health risks associated with firefighting, these released chemicals can be carcinogenic and make conditions even more dangerous for firefighters.

Ault’s Advice

Along with these insights on wildfires (he was still in the process of analyzing the data he had collected the summer, so he was unable to provide any solid conclusions), Ault also spoke on the unique position that meteorologists have as scientists and communicators of science.

It is no doubt that the scientific method – and science itself – is increasingly thrown into question by politics and more mainstream conspiracies. A part of this is the scientists’ fault; Science research is becoming increasingly jargon-filled and disconnected from the experience of the everyday person. However, Ault posits that meteorology is one of the very few remaining disciplines fully trusted by the general public. We all wake up and read the weather report. We simply assume the weather report to be true and make all sorts of decisions based on it (what do I wear? should I bring an umbrella? can I go for a run at 5?). Meteorology is deeply entrenched with the public and meteorologists are in the unique position of having pre-approved credibility.

Perhaps this is also a warning to other fields of science (and anyone involved with science in general). For those that want to change the world with science, research may not be enough if the public is unwilling to adopt your findings. Especially with the growing mistrust in AI/data centers/you get it, the usual AI spiel, it may be more important than ever to become effective communicators of science.