I first met Mike in 1990. It was Mike's, I guess you might say, manic tour. He was the Prime Minister trying to hold together a party that was blowing apart. He was running around the country as fast as he could, literally at warp speed, talking to people, trying to keep our vote up. He was due to visit a little tourism business in the mouth of the Buller Gorge, where I was located. I didn't find out until later on, but, indeed, they came down out of the gorge at God knows what speed, right into a mob of sheep that my father was driving on the road. There were no lamburgers created in that incident, but he came into our business, asked how things were, in a genuine and engaging way, spoke with all 10 of us at that place, and then moved on in a shower of gravel and dust as he moved on. 