From the storm that destroyed Nome to vicious volcanic ash, here are 10 of Alaska's biggest wind events

As the biggest state in the union, Alaska is home to some awe-inspiring weather. In such a place, how could We Alaskans pick out a top 10 of windy-weather events?

While we cannot offer a definitive list of the state's most important winds, we do want to recognize some memorable ones. If we missed your favorite, let us know.

A bit of background: Records of wind events are scattered for a number of reasons, but most importantly:

• Anemometers — the wind gauge that determines the force and speed of wind — sometimes do not survive the strongest gusts.

• Wind measurements have to be integrated across time, so a record for, say, a 15-second gust will be different than a record for a sustained wind — and the definition of sustained wind has changed over time.

• There are not that many recording stations in Alaska.

Nevertheless, here are some contenders.

1. Monster seas
December 2015 saw one of the most intense storms ever recorded in the Bering Sea, creating monster waves of 40-50 feet. "The hardest places hit were Adak, that had several instances of 122 mph winds" throughout the evening of Dec. 12 and into the morning, according to National Weather Service forecaster Michael Kutz. "Shemya had one (gust) at 104 mph last night before their wind system went out." The powerful low reached 929.8 millibars at a buoy between Adak and Shemya. For perspective, the lowest recorded barometric pressure outside of a tornado was 870 millibars in the western Pacific during the 1979 Typhoon Tip.

2. Anchorage storm

A September 2012 windstorm swept across Anchorage, causing 50,000 to lose power and the Anchorage School District to cancel classes. Gusts of 88 mph in McHugh Creek and 63 mph in the Port of Anchorage were recorded. One resident of the Glen Alps area said he recorded a 131-mph gust.

3. Vicious volcanic ash

Pushed by wind, the ash plume from a Mount Redoubt eruption moved across Cook Inlet in December 1989, intersecting with the flight path of KLM flight 867, a Boeing 747 headed for Anchorage's airport. All four of the aircraft's engines died, and the plane plunged more than 2 miles to 13,000 feet before pilots were able to restart the engines and land. Cost of damage to the plane: about $80 million.

4. Erupting ice

In February 2006, winds pushed Arctic Ocean ice shoreward near Barrow, leaving piles of 30-foot-high pressure ridges. Some of the ice got quite close to the road.

5. Kulluk grounding

Cast adrift after its tow cable to the tugboat Aiviq snapped, the Kulluk mobile drilling rig bashed into rocks south of Kodiak Island on Dec. 31, 2012, during a fierce storm that included winds up to 50 mph.

Here's how McKenzie Funk described the situation in his superb New York Times Magazine story: "The wind blew the tops off some of the massive swells, but otherwise they weren't breaking. The swells came in close sets, one right after another, interrupted by long sets of 'monster waves' more than twice as high. The Kulluk tipped severely but somewhat rhythmically until the monsters arrived. 'As the bigger and bigger ones came, they made it go around in a circle,' said Coast Guard rescue swimmer Jason Bunch. The deck, normally 70 feet above the water, 'was dipping so deep that the water was surging on it.'

"'You know when you have a bobber on a fishing pole,' Bunch said, 'and then you throw it out there and reel in really fast, and it makes a wake over the bobber? That's what it looked like.'"

6. Turn-of-the-century tempest

A powerful storm in September 1900 almost destroyed Nome, causing extensive, but uncounted, loss of life, homes and businesses. Hundreds were left homeless. The barge Skookum, which had just arrived in Nome, was wrecked and much of its cargo destroyed. Ten thousand tons of coal, a winter's supply, went into the sea.

7. Nome disaster

President Gerald Ford declared Nome a disaster area after winds up to 79 mph caused $30 million in damage in November 1974. No lives were lost in one of the worst storms in Nome's history.

8. Hammered by Harriet

The remains of tropical storm Harriet slammed into the Aleutians in October 1977, dropping barometric pressure to the lowest reported for decades. Waves of 45-50 feet were encountered off Cape Sarichef, and at Akutan Bay there were 110-mph gusts. Two homes were blown off their foundations at Atka.

9. Creating Iditarod heroes, heartache

At least three Iditarod Trail Sled Dog Races — Alaska's biggest sporting event — were decided by wind. In 2014, Jeff King left White Mountain, 77 miles from the finish of the 1,000-mile race, in the lead by more than an hour. Before long, he encountered a fierce windstorm that eventually knocked him from the race. The same storm forced second-place musher Aliy Zirkle to seek cover, allowing Dallas Seavey to come from behind for victory.

In the 1991 race, Rick Swenson was the only musher to push into another ground blizzard out of White Mountain. "There were times when you couldn't even see the ground," Swenson said later. But he persevered and pressed on to claim his record fifth victory. When asked why he kept going through the blizzard, Swenson answered: "Desperation, I guess." Swenson's determination delivered his fifth and final championship.

And in 1985, Libby Riddles braved a Norton Sound ground blizzard between Shaktoolik and Koyuk that kept all the other top racers huddled at the checkpoint. She drove 13 dogs into the teeth of the brutal storm to establish an insurmountable lead and become the first woman to win the Iditarod. 

10. 'Malicious' winds of 'Minus 148'

There are innumerable accounts of Alaska mountaineers encountering fierce winds. One of the most memorable comes from Art Davidson's classic book "Minus 148," an account of the 1967 winter climb up what was then called Mount McKinley. A severe storm pinned Davidson and fellow climbers Dave Johnston and Ray Genet down in Denali Pass at 18,200 feet. An excerpt:

"The infernal noise filled our heads. The wind's vicious, I told myself. It's diabolical. Silently cursing it became a pastime. I tried to think of all the words that described its evil nature — fiendish, wicked, malicious. I called it a vampire sucking the life out of us.

"But the wind didn't hear me, and I knew my words were irrelevant anyway. The wind wasn't malevolent; it wasn't out to get us; it had no evil intentions at all. It was simply a chunk of sky moving about. It was a weather pattern, one pressure area moving into another. Still, it was more satisfying, somehow more comforting, to personify the wind, make it something I could hate or respect, something I could shout at. I wished I were an old Eskimo shaman, seeing devils and demons in the storm and understanding the evil spirits that lived in the mountains."