Seems like these stories happen every winter, some dumb ass gets the urge to ice skate and instead of going to an ice skating rink, they go skating on a "frozen' pond and fall through the ice and either die (most cases) or come close.
Now I'm no Scott Hamilton by any means, in fact, I suck at ice skating but do consider it remotely enjoyable. But if I get the random urge, I look for a rink, not a fucking pond, lake, or some other body of water.
Before I even go on, I expressed my feelings at this nonsense at work and they all tell me that because I grew up in New York, I just can't "understand" it - I say, BULLSHIT!
Here the wacky logic of it all. Let's take boots with sharp blades at the bottom and used them to run across a layer of ice above a body of water deep enough to drown in and cold enough to induce hypothermia (leading to death) faster that help can arrive - yeah, that's fucking genius. Nothing smarter that a sharp blade to cut away at the thin layer of protection between you and death!
This leads me to another "brilliant" past time - ice fishing. Again, an even that takes place on top of a layer of ice above the frigid waters of doom. This time, you build a little shack to cozy up in because what could be more comforting than a nice heavy shelter sitting on top of that "protective" layer.
Oh, let's not forget the giant jack hammer like power tools used to cut through the ice (translation: intentionally removing a slab of your layer exposing that which may kill you) so that you can drop a line down while praying to baby Jesus for a little warmth and a bite not realizing that every second of warmth you actually receive brings you one step closer to being fish food.
I realize lots of people do this shit and even live to tell about it. Me, I think it's ridiculous and as many screws I may have loose, none of them are loose enough to do either of these gems.