Some people get their buzz jumping off cliffs with a parachute strapped to their backs. Others drive fast cars, scream down mountain slopes, or ride waves the size of two story buildings to make them feel alive. However, for one New Zealander nothing quite compares to the thrill of donning a specially-made foil suit and climbing aboard a monolithic machine to hurl a few lightning bolts around.

The daredevil at the center of all this malevolent, crackling electricity likes to be known as The Lightning Rider. And – believe it or not – he plays with three million volts as a hobby. The Lightning Rider's real name is Carlos Van Camp and since the tender age of 14 he has been constructing bizarre machines known as Tesla coils from scratch and experimenting with them in private. But recently Carlos has been stepping out of the shadows and wowing stunned crowds with unique performances that truly have to be seen to be believed.

The reaction of party-goers to a performance by The Lightning Rider is always incredible. As soon as they hear the unearthly crackling of the Tesla Coil firing up people literally come running over the hilltops like mesmerized rats to the pied piper's hypnotic calling. The short performances see hundreds of dumbfounded people crowding around the safety barrier – mouths open, eyes bulging, not quite believing the scene unfolding before them. Here is a lunatic in a silver spacesuit standing atop a bizarre metal platform projecting ten foot long bolts of lightning off both ends of his space-age staff. Jaws hang low in the audience as The Lightning Rider spins his electrified staff above his head, occasionally unleashing powerful blasts into the ground surrounding the platform like some demented superhero. Later in the show he often dismounts from the platform and, wielding a huge broadsword, fights a mock battle with the lightning – at one point being forced to his knees by the lightning streaming noisily onto the tip of his sword, before fighting back the unnatural foe. It's a surreal performance; one part Star Wars, one part Knights of the Round Table and a large helping of theoretical physics.

"I'm actually quite a reserved person, "said a softly-spoken Carlos when I talked to him after one performance. "While you might look at me up there on the coil and think 'Oh my God – it's a madman,' I'm only up there because I understand the physics of it and I know that it's quite safe within the bounds of what I've set up. Even from a showman point of view I'm actually quite reserved and it's a challenge for me to get up in front of all those people and do that. But I do it for the good of the coil."

I was so intrigued by his unique performance that I had to get some deeper answers for everyone who had witnessed it. Namely: "How?" and "Why?" So, I drove to the small town in New Zealand where Carlos lives to question the man responsible for creating such visually stunning entertainment. As soon as I approached Carlos's garage-cum-laboratory it was immediately clear this was the territory of, if not a mad scientist, surely a slightly demented one. "What is the Matrix?" is stenciled on the door of the otherwise ordinary metal shed. Upon entering I'm confronted by a veritable Aladdin's Cave of technical bits and pieces: a couple of huge industrial tanks of Argon gas, various tubes weaving around the floor, electrical readouts and a weird tubular device that Carlos later tells me is a particle accelerator. I'm definitely in the right place.

We take a look under the hood of the Tesla Coil and the only thing that immediately stands out from the seriously industrial-looking components is a car-battery-shaped component with "Resonance Research Ltd" printed on it. Carlos proudly tells me it's the only part of the machine he didn't make himself. Considering he's messing around with three million volts of snaking, unpredictable electricity, you would expect that Carlos has spent years studying physics at university. This is not the case. "I'm more of a mad scientist ," he says. "I've never done any study as far as university and that sort of thing. I was always good at physics at school, but it's always been an electrical hobby really."

Carlos' Tesla Coil has progressed over the last four or five years – from a smaller machine that put out two or three foot long arcs to the current model, which is capable of up to ten feet. As they have evolved, the coils have been used at events such as dance parties and even for special effects for movies and TV shows. With smaller coils Carlos was able to project electricity in his bare hands and without a metal suit on, but as the coils got more powerful he found it was no longer safe to do so. "With the larger coils not all of the electricity can distribute itself off the end of that metal object that you're holding, so it starts to come off other pointed objects – namely your nose, the tops of your ears and the crown of your head," says Carlos with a grin. "You can withstand arcs of about a foot coming directly off your skin before it starts to get kind of sore. It's just the heat of the spark – it's not so much the electric shock element of it. Because, although the spark is very tiny, it is several thousand degrees in temperature. So, you end up with little pimple-like burns on your knuckles and the tip of your nose."

All joking aside, a Tesla Coil is a very dangerous machine if you don't know what you're doing. Coming into contact with a bolt of lightning even half as long as the ones Carlos' coil creates could potentially kill you, or at the very least leave you with severe burns. Carlos may joke about the machine, but he is deadly serious when it comes to safety. His protective suit consists of metal boots, gloves and a hooded metal jumpsuit that is secured tightly with Velcro straps at all points of contact. This forms an unbroken circuit for the electricity to leap off. "It doesn't matter what goes wrong with the machine itself, the person is totally safe inside that suit, " says Carlos with complete confidence.

I wonder aloud whether Carlos has considered the possibility that he may never be able to father children due to the side effects of the high voltages and electromagnetic fields produced by the Tesla Coil. "Well, I don't want children actually – so that's bloody handy," he says, cracking up laughing. "It's a natural form off contraception!" But seriously, he tells me there are no risks of health problems like having your hair fall out or becoming infertile, because there's no radiation involved. In fact, Carlos is so certain of the safety of his Tesla Coil that he has had many of his friends and family – including a nine-year-old girl – throwing lightning around for all they're worth

Unfortunately the fantastical nature of the Tesla Coil makes it something of a freak magnet. While Carlos is flattered by the curiosity his machine causes, some of the attention is unwelcome. He relates one tale to me: "One of the people who came up to me after a performance was absolutely convinced that he understood the physics of it and told me that he would quite happily get up on the machine without a suit on. He said 'Come on – I want to show you – I'll prove it to you!' And I'm like 'Heeello?! You're gonna get fried!' I tried to explain to him that you can withstand about a two or three foot spark without the suit on and after that you're gonna get fried. And this guy wouldn't take no for an answer – he was just totally adamant that he was gonna get up there. I said 'Go away. There's just no way. If you want to build your own one and stand on it that's cool, but don't involve me.' He was just totally crazy."

Carlos is a man of many electrical talents. "I'd like to be known as someone that designs and builds custom-made electrical devices for the marketing and entertainment industries," he says while busily pumping Argon gas into another of his creations to prime it for use. He tells me the device, which is framed between two glass panels, operates something like an oversized, flat version of a plasma ball. When he flicks a switch it fires up, sending crackling purple lightning snaking randomly around inside the panel. "A friend of mine wants a coffee table made out of one of these panels. So when you put down your coffee mug it gets surrounded by lightning," he says. Curiosity overcomes me and I reach out to touch the glass. Immediately the lightning surrounds my fingertips, with a slight buzzing sensation. Carlos says these plasma panels can be built in many colours, up to 12 feet square in size. He intends to use them to market products.

Carlos says it is also possible to create unusual artworks using a smaller Tesla Coil. The process involves laying a canvas on an insulated platform and manipulating the paint into abstract forms with a lightning brush. However, it's important not to use paint that contains thinners because – Carlos, as tells me "the electricity will set it on fire, as I found out the hard way the first time."

Not one to rest on his creative laurels, Carlos is already dreaming of his next gigantic Tesla coil. "I plan to build a machine that is capable of 60 or 80 foot long arcs and I'll stand on top of it and blast out lightning," he says with a glint in his eye. In a final burst of self-promotion he says: "Give me your product and I'll hold it up. BZZZZZZOW!!! That's gotta get someone's attention!"