Cave diving gets my vote. Most cave divers die.
MY vote goes to the idiots who enjoy driving from Kingston, ON to Wolfe Island in the winter.
Please note: There isn’t a bridge from Kingston to Wolfe Island.
Every year, people decide to just go tooling out to and from Wolfe Island in their cars. (It should be duly noted that the folks who live on Wolfe Island, while kind and generous people, are, shall we say, not blessed with as many branches in the family tree as most people, if you catch my drift.) Every year some nitwit and his whole family goes through the ice and end up as popsicles under fifty feet of Lake Ontario, often after driving by signs like THIN ICE and NO DRIVING and DANGER: JUST BECAUSE PEOPLE CALL YOUR CAR A “LANDBOAT” DOES NOT MEAN IT FLOATS and DON’T TAKE YOUR 5000 POUND CADDY ONTO THIS ICE, YA GODDAMNED MORON.
Of course, driving to the bottom of one of the world’s biggest and deepest lakes is not exactly a “hobby” so after further review I’ll go with snowmobiling. Snowmobilers manage to kill themselves in so many fascinating and stupid ways. Cave divers die a lot, but they always just drown and get eaten by fish, which is boring.
Here in Ontario, we are blessed with the perfect combination of factors for maximum snowmobiling carnage:
- Big population
- Lots of space
- Big winter sports industry
- Lots of winter
- More lakes than you can name
- A very strong cultural affection for beer
The papers here during the winter are a Who’s Who Of Getting Killed in Snowmobiling Accidents.
Snowmobilers drown, they run into rocks and trees, they behead themselves on fences, they crash and crush themselves under their snowmobiles, they collide with one another, they get lost and die of hypothermia. A few years back one set himself on fire while refueling his snowmobile, so we had a guy dying of too much heat in -20 weather.
Though probably not as dangerous as the others mentioned I think those guys that pull trucks and things with their privates have to rank high on the stupidity scale.
HUGS!
Sqrl
Well yours sounds pretty dumb too. But enduping? It’s a purely San Franciscan hobby. It involves going to a club called the EndUp cracked out of your mind. Dancing around for 12 to 16 hours, ingesting more drugs, dancing more, almost collapsing, then going home, then you repeat every week for the next 20 years or so. My friend Crack’d is familiar with the sport.
I’ve never driven to the bottom of Lake Ontario, but once I drove under part of Lake Ontario.
(Went for a lunchtime scoot in the Darlington Nuclear Generating Station outflow tunnel while it was under construction.)