Last day of a trip to Scotland in '91, our three ball at Southerness became two because a buddy decided not to join us (he stayed back at the B&B to drink tea with the owner -- I guess 15 rounds in 9 days had been enough for him). My pro/coach buddy Mike and I showed up 90 minutes before our tee time, expecting a packed lot because the members had an event that morning, and we weren't supposed to tee off until 10:30. Only three or four cars in lot, and 4 guys in pro shop drinking coffee. Raining so hard that cups filled with water, and winds steady at 30+, with gusts to I have no idea. The pro said when we walked in, "you lads aren't really going out there are you?" My response, "we didn't fly all the way over here to lay up."
Bought a Gore-tex bucket rain hat and off we went. Mike didn't have rain gloves, so I gave him one of mine. His umbrella -- stupid rookie choice -- lasted 20 minutes before launching into space. Most fun round I've ever played, filled with laughter and balls going everywhere. Didn't break 90, but Mike broke 80 in one of the best ball striking rounds of his life.
When we finished, there were no cars in the lot. We didn't know about the buzzer in the bar, but gathered a pile of coins from our pockets and I was pouring us a couple of pints, when the manager's wife came in, stunned at me being behind the bar, followed closely by the manager -- who sternly pointed to the buzzer. We apologized profusely, and quickly downed our beers. Three days of the trip had rain, but the last was amazing. Rain clothes were still wet when packed for the flight home. My club carrier, along with 9 days of dirty laundry had an incredible aroma when Canadian customs (we flew Air Canada) decided that my 9 days of beard made me a terrorist, and opened the case. Good time to have a bad sense of smell! Needless to say, that search didn't last long.