In The Lair Of The Hoons

In Canada, they are known as piston heads or sled heads, the, mostly male, types for whom burning fossil fuels holds a crack cocaine addiction.  In Australia, they are called hoons - after their penchant for hooning around.  Today, Doug and I paddled up the Georges River with my brother, Ken and his wife, Renee.  Most of the way was very pleasant paddling going up river with the tide, poking along beside mangroves, watching fish jump and birds flying over head. 

Much of the shoreline here is, wisely, protected as various parks and reserves.  On the west side of Alfords Point Bridge, however, there is a two kilometre stretch of waterway designated for water-skiing and here we entered the lair of the hoons.  Like sled heads and piston heads, hoons seem to have burnt out most of their brain cells breathing in carbon fumes and get unexpected pleasure from driving fast for short distances mindlessly burning fossil fuels.  Hoons, however, seem slightly easier to take than sled heads, perhaps because legislation keeps them relatively constrained.  Or perhaps it is because hoons ignore any one who isn't a hoon, whereas in Canada, sled heads love to ride their pistons in circles around ski tourers in the mistaken belief that we are all enviously eying their machines.   We never have and never will. 

About to launch the kayaks