Dave - Debris Flow, Mudslides, and the Art of Rebranding Catastrophe, my story.
тАЬDebris flowтАЭ isnтАЩt just a new term for mudslidesтАФitтАЩs a glow-up, a PR rebrand for the same relentless hellscape thatтАЩs been burying towns since time immemorial. But thereтАЩs a reason for the linguistic evolution, and itтАЩs not just to make it sound fancier for insurance claims or disaster grants.
A mudslide is what you picture from old disaster flicks: loose dirt, mud, maybe a few toppled saplings oozing down a hillside like Mother EarthтАЩs messy tantrum. ItтАЩs localized, itтАЩs predictable, and itтАЩs tameтАФrelatively speaking.
A debris flow, however, is a whole other beast. This is mud on steroids, bulked up with boulders the size of minivans, uprooted trees, and whatever unlucky structures, cars, or humans happen to be in the way. ItтАЩs a churning slurry of destruction, capable of moving at 20-30 miles per hour, faster than you can scream тАЬWhat the hell is that?!тАЭ
The science folks like to use тАЬdebris flowтАЭ because itтАЩs more precise. It describes a specific cocktail of rock, sediment, organic material, and water that surges downhill like a pissed-off freight train. Mudslides donтАЩt hold a candle to the scale and violence of this kind of event.
But let me tell you something: IтАЩm not just spouting this from the safety of a desk. I lived this nightmare. I was there, boots-on-the-ground, December 2017, evacuated for the entire damn month because the Thomas Fire was turning Montecito into Mordor. And just when I thought I could breatheтАФtwo days home, dirty clothes barely unpackedтАФBOOM. Mud. Rocks. Trees. My entire world went sideways. That so-called тАЬdebris flow thingтАЭ came screaming down the mountain like it had a personal vendetta against anyone who dared return.
So, yeah, I know every single gritty detail because I lived through it. I smelled the scorched earth, heard the roar of boulders smashing through homes, and saw what happens when nature decides to go full rage mode. Call it a mudslide, call it a debris flow, call it Armageddon. The resultтАЩs the same: youтАЩre running for your life and praying the mountain doesnтАЩt swallow you whole.
"Debris flow" is the new term for mudslides? The progress is welcome and I'm glad you and the cats have come through it OK.
Yes, our daughter studies debris flows and we are proud of her work to find ways of mitigating the damage and harm resulting from them.
I too am so relieved to hear that Tom is still safe.
That sounds like an amazing field of study! Good job, momЁЯдЧ!
Dave - Debris Flow, Mudslides, and the Art of Rebranding Catastrophe, my story.
тАЬDebris flowтАЭ isnтАЩt just a new term for mudslidesтАФitтАЩs a glow-up, a PR rebrand for the same relentless hellscape thatтАЩs been burying towns since time immemorial. But thereтАЩs a reason for the linguistic evolution, and itтАЩs not just to make it sound fancier for insurance claims or disaster grants.
A mudslide is what you picture from old disaster flicks: loose dirt, mud, maybe a few toppled saplings oozing down a hillside like Mother EarthтАЩs messy tantrum. ItтАЩs localized, itтАЩs predictable, and itтАЩs tameтАФrelatively speaking.
A debris flow, however, is a whole other beast. This is mud on steroids, bulked up with boulders the size of minivans, uprooted trees, and whatever unlucky structures, cars, or humans happen to be in the way. ItтАЩs a churning slurry of destruction, capable of moving at 20-30 miles per hour, faster than you can scream тАЬWhat the hell is that?!тАЭ
The science folks like to use тАЬdebris flowтАЭ because itтАЩs more precise. It describes a specific cocktail of rock, sediment, organic material, and water that surges downhill like a pissed-off freight train. Mudslides donтАЩt hold a candle to the scale and violence of this kind of event.
But let me tell you something: IтАЩm not just spouting this from the safety of a desk. I lived this nightmare. I was there, boots-on-the-ground, December 2017, evacuated for the entire damn month because the Thomas Fire was turning Montecito into Mordor. And just when I thought I could breatheтАФtwo days home, dirty clothes barely unpackedтАФBOOM. Mud. Rocks. Trees. My entire world went sideways. That so-called тАЬdebris flow thingтАЭ came screaming down the mountain like it had a personal vendetta against anyone who dared return.
So, yeah, I know every single gritty detail because I lived through it. I smelled the scorched earth, heard the roar of boulders smashing through homes, and saw what happens when nature decides to go full rage mode. Call it a mudslide, call it a debris flow, call it Armageddon. The resultтАЩs the same: youтАЩre running for your life and praying the mountain doesnтАЩt swallow you whole.
Wow, makes a hurricane seem like minor inconvenience