With Memorial Day past and June just around the corner, many people tend to look at summer as being in full swing. However, June 1st also denotes the start of another season: hurricane season. I can’t claim to let hurricanes factor into my travel plans or decision-making. In fact, I’ve been subjected to a fair few, though never to the kind of havoc-wreaking type of Katrina or Andrew. However, my time spent on Nantucket, 30 miles off the coast of Massachusetts, has allowed me bear witness to blackouts, minor floods, uprooted tress, and devastated houses.

Photo courtesy of IgoUgo member Red Mezz

Extreme weather has never deterred me from travel and, for so many travelers, weather does just the opposite. It seems that sun-drenched destinations are the be-all, end-all for relaxation. There is something to be said for not having anything to do on a trip but lie on the beach, reading and spending most of the day in and out of sleep as the sun warms you and evaporates thoughts of work or stress or whatever.

Despite having visited more than my fair share of tropical locales, when I think of some of my favorite travel moments, my thoughts rarely race back to some random time in the span of a week-long sun-worship. Is it the just the UV rays talking? Perhaps some soma-like influence of the light-borne vitamin D reduces long stints of sunbathing into convoluted memories. Clearly, that is not so (I hope) and it is merely the fact that extreme weather stands out more definitively in the memory bank.

Watching a hundred year-old oak get uprooted and tossed onto the shingled roof of a house is a more memorable experience than finishing even the bestselling beach read. The sound of the Dominican rain in the palms conjures more precise recollections than the rolling waves in Puerto Rico. The pelting sleet across the heaths of Tasmania does more for reminiscing than even the crispest pale ale on a hot summer day could. (Did I really just say that?)

Perhaps I am just more of a fan of rain than the average person, but I have an extensive list of moments in the rain and hail and snow that stand out in my memory like shadows against that sun to which everyone travels so extensively. Golf in a freezing, horizontal Scottish rain in December; skiing through the woods in -40F in the Adirondacks; maintaining my lunch in a skiff during a downpour on the Chao Phraya: these are some of my favorite moments from trips I’ve taken.

I don’t imagine anyone wants to get caught in a hurricane, tropical storm, cyclone, or even thunder storm—in fact, it would do you well to be prepared—but I’ve loved when the weather changes along my travels and gives me a new perspective. Anyway, at least it’s nice when people take cover from the rain and leave the sites less populated.

What are your extreme weather stories?