I spent 8 months in Dunedin (except for the week-ends). trying to get on the craziest and stupidest trips organized by OUTC. That means that I ended up with the stupidest trip leaders, namely Adrian, Danilo, and Kelvin. I have therefore acquired precious knowledge of these dangerous men.
Beware of Adrian! In town he goes around dressed in a long smart black duffle coat, pretends to be calm and moderate. and you can hardly see the crazy look in his eyes. However. during moon-lit week-ends he is a different man. If he gets hold of a steering wheel, whether it is that of his boat or of a van, don't panic. Hold on firmly. Close your eyes if you need. You will survive, although probably covered with bruises. It is in the bush though that Adrian gets really wild. I have been told that he is even more dangerous in scrub, but I have stayed away from Secretary Island, so I can't tell you. Adrian likes bush-bashing. He enjoys thick bush, tangles of bush-layers. steep bluffs, muddy swamps.
Danilo, I should know a lot about. Danilo! I went through ten days of surviving with Danilo. For those who do not know Danilo, he is the tall sun-tanned Italian with a weird smile and crazy eyes. He looks craziest on Mondays, at the meetings. when he gives an account of his last weekend. He is very good at doing "original" trips. That means going to some place where nobody ever goes because not only is it terribly hard to get there, but also because there is no point in going there anyhow. Adrian used to have original ideas too, but lately he got a bit stuck on his most original one: Mt Grona. Anyhow. Danilo carries a huge very tall bag that hangs loosely from his back. When he leans to the side to try and go over a tree the bag leans even more, and you get this tall Italian half unbalanced on a rotten mossy log, with an even more unbalanced pack. This will of course end up in loud crash, but Danilo docs not seems to mind. The most horrible thing with Danilo is the porridge: every morning. Long before dawn, Danilo gets up and starts cooking the porridge under the fly-tent. Oh what a porridge: a sticky slushy thing, that goes down my hungry stomach quite well, but then sticks horribly to the billy. And washing the billy with freezing cold water is too much for my hands, so I pack the billy dirty. Hum... I should better move on, I think Danilo is the one who edits the antics this year.
Now to Kelvin. Adrian once told me about Kelvin that he is the spirit of the club, the man who has been in every burn and every gorge in Fiordland (Adrian was trying to explain to me how he had followed an obviously stupid piece of advice Kelvin had given him and gone straight up a bluff). Kelvin looks like a bushman. A real bushman. His woollen top is a patch-work of coloured mendings. His bushy moustache is surrounded by a roughly shaven smiling face. He's quite small. From behind you can hardly see anything but his pack. 'The first time I saw Kelvin he told me I was crazy to come on his trip. I think he's much crazier than I am, because he is the one who organizes missions! Anyway, the good thing with Kelvin is that he is always smiling. even when he is wading through waist deep snow. One thing about Kelvin though: never start talking to him about the FMC, you don't know in what kind of trouble you'll end up.
Frankly. out of those three, I can't tell you who's the craziest, but I can tell you they are all three quite nuts.
- Digitized from Antics 2003