Sam Anderson looks into it:
The tradition goes back at least to Benjamin Franklin, who chased twisters on horseback, watching them chew paths through virgin Colonial forest. In the 20th century, aided by cars and cameras, the pastime exploded in popularity and eventually – with the invention of portable video cameras and satellite links – became a full-time profession. In the old days, [Oklahoma City meteorologist Gary] England had to bribe reporters with beer to get decent storm footage. (England himself, having grown up surrounded by storms, prefers to stay in the studio.)
Now the footage is everywhere, all the time, on the networks and cable and YouTube. When serious weather starts bubbling up over the Great Plains, the roads become clogged with hundreds of cars – students, journalists, mercenaries, even tour groups, all competing for the most incredible footage. Greg Carbin, a meteorologist at the National Weather Service, told me, half seriously, that he would like to see the largely unpopulated area of western Kansas set aside as Storm Chaser National Park, where all the adrenaline junkies could drive around freely, at their own risk, without getting in the way of residents or emergency vehicles.
The Dish 