2025-07-02 21:03:01 by Fstoppers

There's a moment in every storm chaser's career when they realize they're no longer just documenting weather—they're bearing witness to something far more profound. For Hank Schyma, better known as Pecos Hank, that realization came gradually over three decades of pursuing supercells across the Great Plains, but it crystallized into something deeper: an understanding that storms aren't just meteorological phenomena to capture, but windows into the very nature of scientific truth and human humility. "I think the pivotal moment was when I just said: ‘I'm going to do it for better or worse’," Hank reflects, his voice carrying the weight of a decision that would reshape not just his career, but his entire approach to understanding the world. "And I set the music aside for just three months because music was what interfered with that little portion of my life with storms, because I was always gigging or touring when the big outbreaks would happen, and I was missing them." That three-month sabbatical from music in 2013 became a lifetime pursuit that has yielded some of the most stunning storm photography and videography ever captured, contributed to genuine scientific discovery, and now culminates in his comprehensive new book, "Storm: Chasing Nature’s Wildest Weather"—a 30-year compendium that looks to be the most complete documentation of severe weather phenomena ever assembled by a single photographer. The Musician's Gamble The story begins not with meteorology textbooks or camera gear, but with a young musician's impossible choice. Schyma had spent years building a career in music, fronting the rock group Southern Backtones and developing what would become a distinctive Americana sound that perfectly captured the open-road wanderlust of Texas and the Southwest. But there was another passion pulling at him, one that seemed to directly conflict with his musical ambitions. "I was always torn between being a naturalist," he explains. "I was going to school at the University of Houston, and I was thinking: ‘you know, I'm a musician, but my backup plan is going to be a park ranger.’" The practical realities of that path—requiring a master's degree for consideration and offering a starting salary of just $22,000—seemed to close that door. But the pull toward nature remained, growing stronger with each missed storm outbreak. The turning point came when Schyma made a calculation that would have seemed reckless to most observers: he saved up $3,000, the "most money [he’d] ever seen," and committed to spending three months doing nothing but chasing storms. "I was sleeping in the car and eating efficiently, and that's what started it. It was just going all in." It's a decision that exemplifies something Schyma has observed about successful entrepreneurs and artists throughout his career: "They say ‘always have a backup plan,’ you know, a plan B. And for me, it was when I just said, ‘screw the backup plan. I'm going all in.’ That's when it worked." Evolution of a Storm Chaser Those early years were marked by what Schyma characterizes as a steady progression in wisdom: "I'm not as stupid. Each year I get less stupid. So that's the idea, right?" It's a characteristically humble way of describing what was actually a sophisticated evolution in both technical skill and risk assessment. "You start raking up near-death experiences," he notes, "and you think: ‘okay, how often am I going to luck out if I keep having one or two of these a year?’" The learning curve involved more than just understanding meteorology and developing situational awareness. It meant building a complex technical setup that could capture the full range of storm phenomena while maintaining the mobility essential for safe chasing. Today, Schyma operates what he describes as a "one man band" of camera equipment—a carefully orchestrated system of multiple cameras, each optimized for different aspects of storm documentation. "It's like juggling bowling pins," he explains. "Once you’ve mastered what you've got, you add one more bowling pin and one more bowling pin. And it's kind of gotten out of control where I've got just cameras everywhere." The challenge isn't just technical mastery, but making split-second decisions about which tool to deploy for each moment. This technical complexity creates an interesting challenge when it comes to collaboration. While many photographers might benefit from an assistant, Schyma has found that introducing another person into his carefully choreographed system often creates more problems than it solves. "I know where all the bowling pins are," he says. The Convergence of Art and Science What makes Schyma's work particularly compelling is how naturally his artistic background informs his scientific documentation. His musical sensibilities shape not just the obvious elements (he scores all his own storm videos) but his entire approach to visual storytelling. "I love listening to music while driving," he explains. "I used to love driving... open country freedom driving, you know, across-the-country driving into Mexico and what's around the next corner. I just had that wanderlust, and the music just really set the cinematic experience to it." This cinematic sensibility translates directly into his storm work. When asked about his filmmaking background's influence on his storm documentation, Schyma's response reveals both artistic ambition and self-critical awareness: "Oh, it makes me realize how poor of a job I'm doing. For the YouTube platform, there's a balance between publish and finesse. And each one of these videos, it’s like ‘I could just have a month or two more months to make it more filmic!’" The tension between the demands artistic approach and the demand of social media. "I feel like they look kind of video-y, but I would like some more handheld stuff and to use some lenses that have a shallower depth of field, which is a rough thing to wrestle with when driving." The practical demands of storm chasing often require compromises that work against cinematic aesthetics. "You want depth of field because it's hard to get it pin perfect. So, I'll shut down to f/8, f/11. If there's bird poop on the window, no, you need it wide open so you can blur that out." Scientific Contributions and Discovery While Schyma is careful to distinguish between his role and that of formally trained scientists—"I am not a scientist," he emphasizes repeatedly—his contributions to atmospheric science have been substantial and genuine. His most notable discovery came in 2019 when he captured and identified a new transient luminous event he termed "green ghosts"—faint green glows that appear after red sprites in the upper atmosphere. The discovery exemplifies how Schyma's unique position as a field observer enables scientific advancement. "I'm assisting these guys because I'm in the field," he explains about his collaborations with researchers. "He needs a guy out in the field going, ‘hey, look what I got.’ But until I'm sitting down doing scientific method and coming up with results myself, I don't think I should call myself a scientist." This humility is admirable, but Schyma deserves credit for his work. His collaborations with atmospheric scientist Dr. Leigh Orf at the University of Wisconsin involve validating supercomputer simulations of destructive tornadoes using Schyma's high-quality field documentation. Similarly, his work with Dr. Anton Seimon employs photogrammetry to estimate tornadic wind speeds and create three-dimensional visual representations of storms. These aren't casual contributions—they're integral parts of serious scientific research. When pressed on whether his humility might be misplaced, Schyma draws an analogy that reveals his perspective: "Have you ever played basketball or tennis?" When assured that yes, most people have, he continues: "Do you tell people you're a basketball player? If you're hanging out with NBA guys and they said, ‘what do you do?’ Would you say ‘I'm a basketball player?’ Right. So, I hang out with scientists, you know? I hang out with real scientists." Philosophy and Scientific Methodology Perhaps the most significant aspect of Schyma's work lies not in his technical achievements but in his broader philosophy about scientific methodology and human nature. His upcoming book weaves these themes throughout the storm documentation, creating what he hopes will be more than just a collection of spectacular images. "I feel like we're drifting away from scientific methodology," he explains. "This departure is exacerbating confusion and polarization and makes us hate each other." This concern drives much of his educational mission. He wants readers to understand not just how storms work, but how to think scientifically about any problem. "There are some exercises in the book of scientific methodology that I want to be cool. And I want people to not be afraid to ask themselves deep, hard questions." This approach extends to examining our own cognitive biases and cultural conditioning. "There's an old proverb that most men will deny a hard truth," he notes. "We've been saying that, you know, forever. Why is that? And everybody thinks, ‘well, I'm not that guy who will deny a hard truth.’ We all are. It's how we're wired." This philosophical framework shapes how Schyma approaches both storm chasing and life more broadly. Understanding human fallibility and cultural conditioning, he argues, leads to greater empathy and less tribal thinking. "Scientists understand that, you know, that a guy born in Afghanistan is going to likely be that culture and that religion. And a guy born in Mexico is going to be that culture and that religion and that way of thinking. And a guy born in Houston, Texas is going to be… You know, if you look around... once you understand that, like, wow, I'm like that, you realize that you share this humanity with everybody." The Creative Process and Artistic Vision The intersection of scientific documentation and artistic expression creates unique challenges in Schyma's creative process. Unlike studio photographers who can control their environment, storm chasers must work within the constraints of rapidly changing, often dangerous conditions while maintaining safety, scientific accuracy, and aesthetic impact. "Each frame rate, each camera, each resolution brings a different story," Schyma explains about his decision-making process in the field. The choice between capturing a perfect still image and documenting the dynamic motion of a phenomenon requires split-second decisions that can't be undone. "If there's upward lightning, it's the action of the slow motion that tells the best story of upward lightning versus a still image. [A still image] will look like upward lightning, but it's that growing upward that you want. So, you'll sacrifice resolution for slow motion video rather than a still." These choices accumulate over time into a comprehensive body of work that tells a larger story about atmospheric phenomena. "And now, I'm looking at my upward lightning and I'm thinking I need some higher resolution upward lightning still. So next time, I'll probably go for the stills rather than the slow motion video." It's a process of continuous refinement and evolution, driven by both technical advancement and artistic growth. The musical background provides an interesting parallel to this visual work. "When I write music, it's like it's written for what I being on the road, which doesn't translate well into clubs," he notes. The music that emerges from his experiences has a cinematic quality that mirrors his visual work. Both are designed to evoke the experience of being on the road, of encountering the vast landscapes and dramatic weather of the American West. The Dodge City Benchmark When asked about his most memorable chase, Schyma returns to an event that has become legendary among storm chasers: Dodge City, Kansas, on May 24, 2016. "I usually have to say one of the ones I'm most grateful for is the Dodge City. People still seem to cite that. It just keeps coming back Dodge City 2016." What made this event special wasn't just the quality of the storms—"numerous high-based long tracking photogenic tornadoes not killing anybody on a road network where you could work"—but the rarity of such perfect conditions. It represents the ideal that every storm chaser hopes for: dramatic, photogenic phenomena occurring in a context where they can be safely documented and where no one is harmed. Storm chasing relies on an often imperfect road network, avoiding a variety of hazards, hoping the storm doesn’t obscure the tornado behind walls of rain, the storms avoiding populated areas, and many other factors. If even one of them isn’t just right, the whole pursuit can be thrown off or set aside as chasers go into search and rescue mode. “Anytime I miss a big event, I just think, ‘you know, I'm so lucky that I got Dodge'," Schyma reflects. It was the first time he met fellow chaser Reed Timmer. "We walked up to each other and we recognized each other. And he said, ‘what do you think is going to happen today?’ And I said, ‘I have no idea.’ And he kind of nodded like, ‘yeah, nobody knows.’ Nobody was expecting that." This unpredictability underscores a fundamental aspect of storm chasing: "You just got to be out there. If you really, really want it, you've just got to be there in case of that." Technical Innovation and Equipment Philosophy The evolution of Schyma's technical setup reflects broader changes in both photography technology and storm chasing methodology. His current system represents decades of refinement, with each piece of equipment serving a specific purpose in documenting different aspects of severe weather. "It's automatic, like you have a routine," he explains about his field setup. "The problem is after I get footage now, I have to choose. I have to look at five or six or seven different cameras and decide which one is the best one, which takes forever." This abundance of options reflects both the advancement of camera technology and Schyma's comprehensive approach to documentation. This isn't mere preparedness. "I have this recurring nightmare where there's tornadoes everywhere and I'm like 'where's my camera, where's my camera?'" he admits with a laugh. "It's horrible. I'm not kidding. It's a recurring nightmare." The technical challenges extend beyond just camera selection. Different phenomena require different approaches: "For lightning, obviously a still image is great. But if you're shooting video, you kind of want slow motion video. And you have to choose, you know, ‘what am I going to do?’ I've got to make a decision." These decisions must be made in real-time, often in dangerous conditions where there's no opportunity for do-overs. The complexity of his setup has made collaboration challenging, but it's also enabled a level of comprehensive documentation that would be impossible with a simpler approach. "I know right where every camera is and can grab it. So that way, you can focus on the road." The muscle memory developed over decades allows him to operate his complex system while maintaining the situational awareness essential for safe storm chasing. Global Perspectives and Exploration While Tornado Alley remains Schyma's primary hunting ground, his curiosity has driven him to pursue weather phenomena across the globe. "I crave it more. I just want to be out there. I want to see volcanoes. I want to see cyclonic tornadoes in the southern hemisphere spinning the other way." This global perspective has enriched both his scientific understanding and his artistic vision. "The fun of, ‘okay, let's go to this country and let's learn the culture and learn the language.’ And even when you fail the story, traveling through Argentina and meeting people and learning is just… I crave it. It's fun." The international work also reveals new phenomena to pursue. "I haven't seen a gigantic jet yet. I've got a great blue jet. One of the probably, I mean, greatest blue jet I've ever seen a photo of. And I can't believe I got it. But I want the gigantic jet now. That's like the Holy Grail of lightning." These rare transient luminous events represent the cutting edge of atmospheric research, and documenting them requires being in the right place at exactly the right time, often in remote locations far from Tornado Alley. The Challenge of Success and Authenticity Success in the digital age brings its own challenges, particularly for artists working in niches that become mainstream. Schyma has watched his distinctive approach to storm documentation become widely copied, often by content creators who prioritize algorithmic success over authentic documentation. "How I used to package up storms is now mainstream. Everybody does it," he observes. "And unfortunately, rather than shoot their footage, they just steal other people's footage. And then they do a sensationalized fake thumbnail with a fake title. And it's sadly that the crap is rising above the [original work].” He’s right. YouTube has become inundated by this sort of content, making it harder and harder to find the legitimate work. This evolution of digital platforms creates a fundamental tension between authentic work and algorithmic success. "YouTube is starting to disgust me—my feed that's recommended to me, I turn it away. The challenge isn't unique to storm chasing or weather documentation—it's a broader issue facing all creative fields in the digital age. Despite these frustrations, Schyma maintains a philosophical perspective about the cyclical nature of artistic trends. Drawing parallels to the music industry, he notes how the Bee Gees went "from just worshipped to comical in years" as their innovative sound became oversaturated through imitation. "This has always been a cautionary tale with all art, you know. You have to be ready for the changing of time." Nonetheless, he also notes the power of modern platforms to elevate content that might have never gotten traction in past years. "There's this guy who has marble races," he explains, describing a YouTube creator who provides sports commentary for racing marbles. "When he was growing up and obsessed with this, his parents must have been going, 'how are you going to make a living? You're wasting your time.' And here he is now with hundreds of thousands of subscribers. You can make a career out of these things we love now thanks to social media." Schyma's work has made him one of the most respected personalities in the weather community, where he's known for his stunningly cinematic photos and video, scientific collaboration, and kind personality—you'll often catch him stopping to help a lost animal cross the road. "Storm: Chasing Nature’s Wildest Weather" represents more than just a collection of spectacular images—it's the culmination of three decades of work and a comprehensive educational resource. "When I first got into weather, it was probably 1995... Once I got my first shot of lightning, and I talk about this in the book, I was hooked." The book's comprehensiveness reflects Schyma's ambitious vision for what storm documentation could be. "Back then, the books were either written by scientists who weren't in the field shooting, so they had the knowledge, but they didn't have the photos... So even though the information was there, the photos were lacking. And then if you had a photographer, well, the science was lacking." Schyma's unique position as both field documentarian and collaborator with leading atmospheric scientists allows him to bridge this gap. "I want a complete book of everything: of lightning, of tornadoes, of transient luminous events, of tropical cyclones. I want it to cover everything." The result is what may be the most comprehensive single-author documentation of severe weather phenomena ever assembled. The educational approach reflects his broader philosophical concerns about scientific literacy. Working with scientists like Dr. Anton Seimon, Schyma has created what he describes as "a really easy scientific book. Any term that's introduced, I introduced that term in a fun way early on. So, when it comes to the verbose jargon, you know what vorticity is. You're already there." The Intersection of Multiple Passions One of the most striking aspects of Schyma's career is how naturally his diverse interests have converged rather than competed. The music that once seemed to conflict with storm chasing now provides the perfect soundtrack for his documentation. "I sell more records now. I have a record that I made in 1999, and I sell way more now than I did, 25 years ago." This convergence extends beyond just commercial success to artistic fulfillment. "It's so strange how it all converged together. Like who would have thought, you know? I still had this ache to be out in nature and finally switched career objectives to making nature documentaries. Then, lo and behold, all my music just fits perfectly with all that.” Schyma’s snake documentation project represents yet another facet of this multidisciplinary approach. While the North American snake documentation has slowed—"because I'm not finding any new species. I'm catching the same species over and over"—international travel has opened new possibilities. "Snake season is generally springtime when they're all coming out and they're just easy to find... but that's also prime tornado time." The conflict between different passions creates interesting choices, but also opportunities for innovative combinations. Living the Artist's Life The practical realities of pursuing artistic and scientific passions full-time require sacrifices that Schyma addresses with characteristic honesty, discussing his early days of chasing: "You sacrifice what the Jones have. You have no money, and you're living in cars or on friends’ couches. But the the community around you recognizes that you're trying to do something and they say: ‘hey, I've got this garage you can stay in’ or ‘I've got an old computer I'm not using.’" This support network has been crucial to sustaining his work over decades. "Even though it was far from luxurious, it was a lot of fun you know, and even what we consider roughing it nowadays is just living better than pharaohs and kings and czars.” His perspective reflects both gratitude for community support and a broader philosophical approach to material wealth. The Future of Storm Documentation Looking forward, Schyma sees both challenges and opportunities in the evolution of storm documentation and scientific communication. The democratization of high-quality camera equipment means more people can capture severe weather, but the proliferation of sensationalized content makes authentic work harder to distinguish. In a world where creators often vie to be the first to post something and are constantly uploading new content, Schyma’s approach is decidedly different and refreshing. "I'm trying to slow down and do art. It's going to cost me money to do art. I'm going to put more time into things and I'm not going to be able to produce as much and keep cramming stuff out the window." He’s referencing YouTube’s notorious preference for creators to upload near-constantly. It’s a conscious choice to prioritize quality over quantity, even at economic cost. The artistic goals extend beyond just technical improvement to innovation: "I want to create new things. I want to create something I haven't created before.” This drive for originality becomes more challenging as his previous innovations become mainstream, but it also pushes him toward new creative territories. Perhaps the most important aspect of Schyma's work lies in its potential contribution to scientific literacy and critical thinking. His concerns about the decline of scientific methodology extend beyond academic circles to broader social implications. "If we could just understand human nature, your own human nature, other people's, you'll realize that they're no different than you," he explains. This understanding, rooted in scientific thinking about human psychology and cultural conditioning, could help address the polarization and tribalism he sees increasing in society. The book's educational approach reflects this mission: "I want people to realize how lucky we are. I want to make the world a better place through education and gratitude." The combination of spectacular imagery with scientific explanation and philosophical reflection creates a unique approach to science communication. The Continuing Journey Despite three decades of storm chasing and a comprehensive book documenting his work, Schyma shows no signs of slowing his exploration. "Oh, I wish I could let go of it. I want to move on. I want to move on to different things. I want to move on to surfing. I want to move on to cobras. I want to move on to gigantic jets. And it's just so hard to pry myself away from supercells." This tension between wanting to explore new territories and being drawn back to familiar passions reflects the depth of his connection to storm chasing. "If it wasn't for my love for tornadoes, I would move out of this country to explore another country... I've lived here almost my whole life... why not just move to Thailand? But the answer is because they don't have tornadoes there." Approximately 75% of the world’s tornadoes occur in the United States. The international travel plans suggest a potential resolution: combining the exploration of new places with the pursuit of atmospheric phenomena. "We're going to Bali and Komodo this year... almost everything that they have is going to be a new species. Why keep looking in Louisiana when I can go to South Africa and everything is something you've never seen?" A Legacy of Wonder and Discovery As our conversation draws to a close, what emerges most clearly is not just Schyma's technical expertise or artistic vision, but his fundamental approach to life and learning. "I want the world to embrace critical thinking and scientific methodology, thus growing awareness of emotional responses to incentivized algorithms," he says, summarizing his educational mission. This desire to elevate public taste and scientific literacy drives much of his work. Whether documenting the birth of lightning in slow motion, discovering new atmospheric phenomena, or composing music that captures the vastness of the American landscape, Schyma consistently pushes toward greater understanding and deeper appreciation of the natural world. "Storm: Chasing Nature’s Wildest Weather" represents not just the culmination of thirty years of work, but a foundation for the next phase of exploration. For readers, it offers both spectacular imagery and the tools for scientific thinking that Schyma believes are essential for navigating an increasingly complex world. "I want to bring people some positivity," he reflects. "And it might be lopsided towards positivity, but I feel like there's a shortage of that right now, and we could all use a little bit more of that." In a time when discourse often devolves into tribal positioning and scientific expertise is questioned, Schyma's combination of rigorous methodology, artistic vision, and fundamental humility offers a different path forward. For photographers, his work demonstrates how technical mastery can serve larger purposes beyond just creating beautiful images. For science enthusiasts, it shows how field observation remains crucial even in an age of computer modeling and satellite data. For anyone interested in living an authentic creative life, his journey from musician to storm chaser to scientific contributor illustrates how apparently conflicting passions can converge into something greater than the sum of their parts. Schyma’s images and insights help us understand not just what these phenomena look like, but how they work and what they reveal about the complex systems that govern our planet's atmosphere. More than that, they remind us that scientific understanding and aesthetic appreciation aren't opposing approaches to nature—they're complementary ways of engaging with the world that can enhance and inform each other. "Storm: Chasing Nature’s Wildest Weather" is available for pre-order now and will ship on October 28th. You can follow Pecos Hank's ongoing work on his YouTube channel, Instagram, and Patreon, where he continues to share both his latest storm chases and the philosophical insights that have made him one of the most distinctive and respected voices in both weather documentation and scientific communication. Note: While Schyma's experience makes storm chasing appear routine, it remains an inherently dangerous pursuit that has claimed lives. The phenomena he documents—tornadoes, lightning, flooding, large hail, and severe winds—pose genuine threats even to experienced chasers. For those interested in severe weather, safer alternatives include formal meteorological education, trained volunteer spotting programs, or simply appreciating the work of professionals who bring these wonders to us from a safe distance. All images used with permission of Hank Schyma.