We’ve all been there.
You’re all excited to go out and take some photographs, only for the weather to suck. You decide to push on, but you drop and crack a filter, bash and dent a lens on a rock while picking up that filter, turn around to recollect yourself, and accidentally knock your tripod off a cliff and into a puddle of mud instead. To top it all off, once everything has been recovered and all the remaining working parts are reassembled, you try to take a photo only to realize you’ve left all your batteries and memory cards at home.
Well, unfortunately, the “you” in the above situation was once me.
It was 2017, the penultimate round of the MotoGP calendar, where six teams and 24 riders were battling it out at the Sepang International Circuit in Malaysia. I was on vacation, an especially rewarding one since I was serving in the army at the time. I’d saved up all my earnings and purchased a new lens, a 70-200, perfect for someone wanting to try motorsports photography. As you’d guess, the second I rolled up to the very wet and muddy track with my friends, we all took out our cameras. I broke a filter, dinged my lens, and shoved my tripod into mud at Turn 4 in one fell swoop. My friends, already dying of laughter, burst into hysterics when they saw my face after I collected everything, as I then realized I’d left all my batteries and SD cards at home.

I don’t blame them—the only thing you can do when something screws up that badly is just laugh. When it rains, it pours, and boy, do I know that. The filter was cheap, the lens was “fixed” with a pair of pliers, and the tripod had a bent leg but still worked—so, you know, not the end of the world. I still had a fantastic time watching Marc Márquez, at his absolute prime, fighting to hold onto the championship lead as the season reached its end.
But this isn’t about 2017. Back then, I was still faffing about with my photography journey, unsure of what to focus my attention on. A career in motorsports, while still appealing to me today, ended up not happening—mainly because I rekindled my love for the outdoors not long after, bringing me to the present day.

As someone who plans some of their images a bit too seriously, there’s not going to be a Milky Way timelapse or golden hour sunset when the skies are completely overcast and washed out. There’s not going to be wildlife to photograph if they decide to take a rest day, and no chance to get the drone up in the air when the winds are too strong. I can plan all I want, and I do, but sometimes it’s just not happening.

We’ve maybe even been there twice.
(Or many, many more, in my case)
In my most recent trip to Norway, I hinted at how things hadn’t gone well during the second half of the trip.
Well, it didn’t get any better.
In fact, it just got worse and worse.
For the first half of the month, I enjoyed some absolutely splendid weather. The skies were clear (or mostly clear) nearly every night, allowing for some great aurora viewing, and the sunsets and sunrises were either pleasantly overcast or nice and bright. The second half, however, was an entirely different story. It was so densely overcast, a uniform grey, the entire time. The winds were blowing, and the rain was constant, coming down sideways.
I’d dedicated the first half of the trip to landscapes along Norway’s Arctic coast, with the second half reserved for wildlife. On my last day in the Lofoten Islands, the weather had already started to come down. Despite escaping north to Tromsø, the bad weather seemed to follow me and only get worse.

Each day seemed to get windier, colder, and rainier than the last. Save for the random days when the temperatures shot above freezing, causing the ice-and-snow-covered landscape to turn into the coldest, slipperiest sludge. Ninety percent of my planned outings—and subsequently planned images—ended up being cancelled. The unpredictable warming temps meant avalanche risks, limiting me to ground level in mountainous Norway. The high winds made the seas too rough for the smaller boats more suited for exploration to sail or for my drone to fly.
In this case, I decided to spend my second day in Tromsø just exploring the city, where I stumbled upon this incredible museum and exhibit, which I discuss in this previous post below.
So, I was landlocked—dreams of capturing an image of an orca breaching or an Arctic fox running through the snow were foiled yet again by the weather. But just because a plan falls through and I can’t make the image I want, it doesn’t mean that there are no images to be made.

There’s a whole world of incredible nature out there to explore, even when it’s gross outside. My clothes are waterproof, my camera is water-resistant—there’s not much that can stop me from doing some exploring.
Still, there are some days when it’s truly horrid outside, and there’s nothing else I can do. One such day was when Hurricane Idalia hit. I’d been indoors all week and wasn’t paying attention to the weather forecast. It was dreadfully overcast, but I was still out there photographing. Suddenly, the heavens opened, and within seconds, I couldn’t see anything but rain. I persisted and kept photographing while there was still a sliver of light left until I realized I’d left my rain cover in the car, and my bag was starting to soak through.
Feeling like the weather was only getting worse, I decided to turn around and go home when the winds picked up. Thankfully I did, as it turns out it was one of the strongest hurricanes in years—a Category 4—tearing through the southeastern USA. A couple of trees were knocked down in my neighborhood, and at the park I was at! Sometimes, knowing when to quit is also a good thing. Usually, unnecessary life endangerment is a good reason.
Still, I’m happy with the image I got that day. To me, there’s always a reason to be out there. Well, unless the conditions are so bad that your existence is at risk.
Here are some things I’ve learned over the years of photographing in crappy weather—maybe they’ll help.

- It’s a Game of Patience
As we move closer towards the poles and the Arctic/Antarctic circles, the weather generally gets a lot more windy, rainy, and icy, meaning overcast days are more the norm than bright sunny ones. When we head to the deserts, it’s the opposite. The skies are completely clear with not a cloud to be seen. Over in the tropics, you’ll never know what to expect. It could be raining sideways, incredibly sunny, or both at the same time!
Bottom line is, if it’s not looking good, just wait.
With the high winds comes the chance for a cloud to break apart, allowing for pockets of light to shine through.
This can create really unique lighting opportunities, like this image I made earlier this year in Norway. Despite the water looking still (partly because the surface was mostly frozen), the winds above were extremely high, and the clouds were moving fast. The sun was just over the fjords directly behind the camera, but the heavily overcast sky prevented any sunlight—and thus, the golden hour light we yearn for—from shining through.
After half an hour of waiting, the winds finally blew open a portion of the clouds behind, effectively putting a solar-sized spotlight on just this town.

In this image, it was so extremely overcast and foggy, but the equally extreme winds tore a hole in the cloud, revealing a massive mountain hidden behind it.

- It’s About Understanding the Local Environment
Having grown up in Singapore, I’m very used to the weather along the equator. It’s hot, humid, and undeniably sweaty. It’s one of the rainiest countries around, getting an average of 171 days of rain a year. That’s almost half the year with rain! But the thing is—and it’s the same for most countries along the same latitude—rain in a place like Singapore doesn’t really mean much. It’s practically guaranteed but is far from disruptive. Rain in Singapore and similar countries doesn’t last long. It pours heavily, but only for about an hour at a time. Those familiar with the Singapore Formula 1 GP know this very well. When you know what the weather is going to do, you know when to go out and what to look for.
The best clouds often come after rain—they’re still dense and saturated with deep colors but are starting to break apart and let all that light back through, like in this image here in Iceland, where I’m standing in a flooded field after a full day of rain.

Rain also means puddles, and puddles always mean reflections—an easy composition to look out for.
When I have a better understanding of the local environment, I understand how the light falls on subjects at different times of day, when the fog will roll in, or when it’ll disappear. Knowing—or at least having a grasp on—these things enables me to work more easily with the cards I’m dealt. Better the enemy you know than the one you don’t, right? Luckily with weather, all the research is already out there and pretty easily accessible!
- It Challenges Your Creativity
I’ve always disliked referring to myself as a photographer. It’s my profession and job description, sure, but it’s not what I identify as, nor is it where my primary interests lie. This means I can be very lackluster in my approach to educating myself about photography. I need to make it fun for me; otherwise, I’ll start to view it like I did school. I hated school, so I’ve always got to keep it fresh and try out new photographic techniques—or at least use some I haven’t tried in a while. Something new I’ve been doing in the last few years is ICM (Intentional Camera Movement).
Overcast days tend to help with ICM, as attempting them during midday usually means having to put a filter on. I’m all for being lazy and carrying less gear, so not having to bring or use a filter is a dream for me. Some of my favorite images have been the ones where I go, “Not sure what else to photograph. I haven’t made a panorama/ICM/macro/focus stack/HDR/whatever else in a while. Guess I’ll try turning this scene into one?”
And it turns out, that image I didn’t care too much for and made just to do something different often ends up being my favorite image from the trip.
From an extremely overcast day in Alaska

And always try randomly throwing stuff at the wall and seeing what sticks. You never know what combination of techniques, genres, and styles will work, like with this ICM of a razorbill in flight.
- There’s No Such Thing as Bad Weather, Just Bad Gear
I’m not talking about camera gear, but instead the clothes. I could spend a long time discussing outdoor clothing, but I’m saving that for a future post. I’m also not here to critique your fashion sense—I don’t have much of one myself. All my stuff is either purchased from the bargain bin or eBay, which is why I end up wearing lots of obnoxiously bright or incredibly dull colors, haha.
Through my very non-empirical and un-scientific research, I’ve found most reasons people dislike inclement weather is simply - not wanting to be wet, cold, or both. Understandable, I’m no fan either, but that’s where good outdoor gear comes into play.
Now I don’t want to discourage people from going outdoors, because good outdoor gear can often be unbelievably expensive. You own what you own, and that’s fine, but be aware of the limitations of your clothing! Don’t wear a cotton t-shirt when you’re going on a multi-day backpacking trip through the Canadian high arctic, and don’t wear a parka to the desert. Fairly easy stuff to keep on top of.

- Be Interested in Your Subject
I think in order to make a good photograph, you need to be interested in the things you’re photographing to begin with. I struggled a lot early in my career, and it was due to the fact that I was just doing the types of things that were easy to get paid work for—mainly portraits, sports, and wedding photography. I was getting gigs and getting booked, but I was never improving as a photographer, and it was all because I couldn’t care less about photographing people. It’s just not my thing, man. People don’t interest me anywhere near as much as the natural world does, but it took me a while to understand that and come to terms with it.
Interest is just the first step. The real magic comes when you start diving deeper into it. Nature has always been my number one thing—but I have LOTS of “things,” so it sometimes took a backseat as I explored other interests. But as I’ve come to learn about the wildlife I spend time with, the local ecosystems they reside in, the cultural impact and interaction with native populations, and deepen my relationship with our one and only planet, the easier it is for the photos to come. I’m not thinking about my camera settings, what lens to use, or how to edit an image. I just let the earth speak to me, and the compositions reveal themselves.
Here’s one of the last images I took at my last game as a sports photographer before transitioning full-time into the outdoors. The image isn’t really anything special. It’s in focus, and the subject is visible, but that’s about where the good things end. There’s not much storytelling or artistry going on here, the editing sucks, and is uninspired. You can just tell my heart wasn’t in it.

Compared to what I’m doing now:

- Keep an Open Mind!
I think the most important tip for success in bad weather—whether for art, photography, or just life in general—is to keep an open mind, be curious, be skeptical, and be excited. I think as artists—and also in general—we’re all too strict on ourselves with arbitrarily self-imposed rules.
Using presets/auto mode on cameras makes you a bad photographer. If you don’t have a full-frame camera, you’re just an amateur. Using sample packs makes you a subpar producer. Using CDJs instead of vinyl makes you a bad DJ. Playing a game on easy mode makes you a bad gamer. Driving an automatic makes you less of a “car person” than a manual car driver.
That’s all rubbish. Just complete balderdash. I know I’m going against what I said about having an open mind, but anyone who would discourage people like that is the most miserable person on earth, so there’s no reason to listen to a word they have to say anyways.
Try all the new things. Do something you never normally would, have never done, or have never even thought about attempting. Don’t be afraid to composite a sky or object or two. Don’t be afraid to try pixel sorting, HDRs, focus stacking, or dodging and burning, or editing in Photoshop instead of Lightroom, or another program entirely. Don’t be afraid to take your camera and point it at something you’ve never pointed it at before. Try exploring new subjects or other genres of photography. Hell, try something else altogether. Ditch the camera, get outside, then come back to it and see what happens.
Most of the time, it’s going to be something fun.

Some “non-traditional” photographers whose work I really enjoy. They may be “digital art” or “illustrations” as many love to say, but both Cath and Angel take all elements of their images themselves, with cameras, to create their own composite images. If you need an introduction to this whole new world of photography and digital image creation and manipulation, they’re a great place to start.
And you know, sometimes even after all that, nothing works out. And that’s alright. Part of having an open mind is being open to that possibility. Knowing the local environment, and thus local area, helps with that too. It’s how I decided to wander into the museum instead of going back and sitting in my room in Norway.
Thank you all for reading. I’ll catch you all in the next one. I’ll try to do a better job of posting more “live” updates on Substack like I do on the other platforms, but it’s pretty difficult keeping up with this many accounts.
Hopefully, there are some helpful tips in here for photographing in horrid weather.
Do you have any horrid-weather photography tips? How do you stay motivated when it’s not looking good out there?
RESOURCES
While I’m planning on saving these for a future post, I thought I’d briefly list out what gear I use when exploring the outdoors in horrid weather.
Rain jacket/outer shell
Baselayers
Anything wool or made from nylon/polyester
I prefer long sleeves for all seasons for UV protection from the sun, but short sleeves are fine as well
Midlayers
Breathable fleece or down jackets
Pants
Shoes
Danner Arctic Zip 600*** (this is NOT PFAS-free, nor is it made from recycled materials. I received this pair as a gift and they’re good, so it would be more wasteful to toss them)
All clothing listed above are PFAS-free, most of them are also made from recycled materials or are from companies that engage in ethical practices!
I always enjoy reading your posts, Ryan! Appreciate the resources at the bottom, too. The weather has definitely defeated me, but not to the same extent as your story 😅