I soared Woodstock yesterday. I climbed far above the ridge. Its spine meandered beneath me like the backbone of a giant lizard, and the lift pulled me higher and higher. I had to follow the river out to the valley and spiral tightly to lose altitude. It should have been a banner day, but all I could think about was Chad.

The first time we met he took me on a tandem. I didn't want to learn to steer the glider, I just wanted an expensive amusement park ride. I don't know that Chad liked me very well, but he was patient and explained anyhow. Midflight, he asked me if I liked roller coasters. A second later, we screamed sideways in a wingover. I hollered "F___ me!" enthusiastically and then he started to think I was maybe not so bad.

Paul and I were hooked on hang gliding, past our gullets. Paul learned to fly quickly, but it would have been more natural for me to walk on my hands. Chad endured the frustrating task of teaching me, but eventually he got it done. The night he soloed me, he faked at least seven weak link breaks on our last tandems together. He took it as his personal responsibility that I would be prepared - over prepared -- for anything that might happen to me in the air. Oh, he was fun, he was so much damn fun, but he was kind, too. He was never a sappy, sentimental type, but he cared about me and his other students and friends. When I squashed the Target that Sunny and Chad lent me into a crumpled coat hanger, they didn't even charge me to fix her. They just dragged the Target off the runway and got me fixed up in my new Eagle, so I could fly while the evening air was smooth.

But the flying was only part of it. Paul and I often camped at Ridgely. Chad would wake us by buzzing our tents with the Dragonfly, a punishment for those who had overindulged by the bonfire the night before. We learned to play spoons -- a juvenile game of electricity and nerve. Chad could take enough voltage to stop an elephant's heart, so I learned that I should drop out of the game early, because he was going to win anyhow. He always smelled like airplanes and motorcycles, and that became the smell of happiness to me, the smell of Ridgely. I would beg for rides on Chad's bike, shameless, and if he was in a good mood we would race around the taxiways after dark. I liked him so much I tried chewing his tobacco a few times, but I never got the hang of it. Paul and I had incredible fun.

To say that the gifts Chad and Sunny and Adam gave us have changed every facet of our lives is no exaggeration. I don't know when I will be able to believe that Chad is gone. I can't imagine driving to Ridgely right now and not having him there. I don't even know when I'll be able to wear eye makeup again. I just cry it off as soon as it's on. I hate writing this. We have suffered a tremendous loss.

I would like to take a moment to introduce you to a great person who died today. Chad Elchin started hang gliding at Kitty Hawk Kites about 12 years ago. He was originally from Pennsylvania. During his time at Kitty Hawk Kites, Chad became quite the hang glider pilot. He could often be seen out soaring the dunes or towing up from the flight park. During his tenure there, Chad achieved his instructor rating as well as his tandem instructor rating and managed the flight park for a year.

It was at KHK, that Chad met Sunny, another tandem instructor and fellow Pennsylvanian. The two of them together, decided to start a flight park. After much searching for the right location, they settled outside of Baltimore - on the 'eastern shore' of Maryland. Ridgely Maryland became the home for "Highland Aerosports". This was about 5 years ago.

Since starting the business and living on a 'shoestring' due to the nature of hang gliding schools in general, the guys grew the business until they had two Dragonfly's and had just purchased a FlightStar for 'side by side' ultralight instruction. These guys tried very hard to reinvest into the hang gliding community every way they could. They produced dozens of hang glider pilots and supplied not only product but friendship to the pilots in the area.

We have lost a truly great person today.

I can't believe it--

Of all the aerotow parks I've flown (lots), Highland is still in my mind one of the very best. This is largely because of Chad (and of course Sonny and Chad's family), a cool, solid and dedicated driving force behind their growth and success.

Almost every tow I've gotten from Chad resulted in being left off in the best thermal around and a great soaring flight.

Chad, you are the best of the best.

He was the best teacher... I never thought I was going to be tow rated.. but he had confidence in me that I could do it.. and I did.

We will miss you.

A significant observation on the social structure and close relationships in our flying community.

In almost every exchange among mid-Atlantic pilots as we react to the shocking news of Friday, whether in phone calls, direct e-mail, or listserver posts, the reference has simply been to "Our Chad." That is how all the pilots who knew and flew with Chad Elchin think of him.

May his family and closest friends know that this is how all of his extended kin in the sky will always remember him, as "Our Chad."

From my log books:

4/15/95 Lesson #5, Kitty Hawk Kites. Instructor: Chad.
5/20/95 Lesson #7, Kitty Hawk Kites. Instructor: Chad.
5/28/01 First aerotow training. Highland Aerosports, Ridgely MD. Instructor Chad Elkins.
6/30/01 AT Rating! Highland, Ridgely. Instructor Chad Elkins.

Chad, we'll miss you. The skies are now yours forever.

Been planin goin flyin for WEEKS waitin waitin....... Sunday i says, checkin the WX every few hours for changes.

Was all ready to pack up the truck... and noticed it was the 13th... Silly, i said to myself. Quit being silly. Time to go to RIDGELEY WOOHOO

Then i read my EMAIL :(

First Hi Rock Now This. Wish i knew what to do to make it better.

Chad we miss you - we're gonna have a HELL of a time fillin' them shoes bro. Promise to keep trying. No matter what.

As crushing as this is for me I know it must be that much harder for all of you veteran pilots, family, and friends. I had not yet had an opportunity to fly Ridgely but after a long winter hearing everyone rave about these guys I was really excited to get in on the fun. Back when I had a parachute mixup Chad, whom I had not met yet, offered to loan me a parachute for however long it took for mine to show up! Not that I wasn't sold already, but after that I knew even more that these are great guys and I couldn't wait to fly with them.

Eager to share the passion of flying, and a chance to work with such a positive crew, I snatched up some tandem certificates for loved ones. Now it hurts knowing that I won't ever get my chance to fly with or get to know Chad. I'm sorry for all of you whose lives were touched by him.

I don't usually post, but today, I must.

I started gliding off the dunes in the early '80, but it wasn't till the mid '90s that I truly experienced the overwhelming excitement of being UP in the air. After several truck tows, Chad took me as a tandem, being pulled to my highest ever at 2500 feet. It was there that he told me to look off to the left and there, we witnessed the Glory. That was the high point of my life. I'm so proud to have shared that day with Chad.

My sincere condolences to his family and to those who knew him so well. May God give him his natural wings for all eternity.

I remember how impressed I was with Chad’s article on his breaking the record for looping a glider. A lot of the stuff in the USHGA mag is pretty crappy or just plain boring. So anything good stands out. But Chad’s article was more than just good. It was captivating, full of life and one of those things I just couldn’t put down. I kept meaning to tell him how impressed I was with his writing and that he should write more articles. And I’m pretty sure that I did tell him this one evening as I was paying for another ten-pack of tows. But I’m not entirely sure. And that’s the way it is with memory. As you get older, the memory goes. Or more accurately, you forget little things here and there. Pieces of your life, small moments, fall away or merge into other broader memories.

I miss Chad and I’ll always remember him and how helpful he was and how I’d give him a hard time about always dropping me off in sink. But there’s lots of little things that I’m afraid I’ll forget as I get older. So I’m writing them down -- here’s a few.

I remember when I first met him how I thought he was looking at me funny, as though he was focusing at a point behind me. This went on for a long time until one day I saw him working on the computer. The letters on the computer were the size of billboard letters and his face was two inches from the screen. 'Holy Crap!' I thought. 'The guy driving the plane is blind.' Then I put two and two together and realized he was far sighted and that explained the unfocused look he sometimes gave me.

I remember him and Adam showing me how to use the vomit chair and spinning me around on the day I brought my nephew out to take a tandem.

I remember talking to him recently about trying to tow a paraglider. We devised a scheme that sounded like it would work. But we both agreed that it would be best if we talked Marc Fink into being the guinea pig.

I remember giving him a hard time during the presidential election and all the discussion of dangling-chads. I wanted to know if they were talking about him. Chad just took it in stride like he always did.

I remember him teaching me to come out of the cart and then pull in right away so I wouldn’t out-climb the tug.

I remember him working with me to try to find the best speed to tow my glider and that he assured me that once we got the speed down that I’d like he’d always remember to tow me at that speed. And he did.

I remember asking him to take me on a maneuvers tandem tow so I could practice getting out of lockouts and bad situations. But we never got around to it. We were always running out of daylight at Ridgely.

I remember Karen and I going to a barn in Potomac to check out their riding instructors. We were walking around the barn and saw a horse named Chad. We laughed and laughed and laughed. And then right next to Chad was a horse named Sunny. It was one of those times we wished we had a camera. We just couldn’t believe that even as horses those two guys were always together.

And somehow it’s very difficult not to think of these two friends still being together. We were always saying Sunny and Chad this or Sunny and Chad that. Our hearts go out to Sunny and Adam, Erika, Sea and everyone else whose life was touched by Chad. We’ve lost another angel who walked among us and taught us how to fly and made us laugh and was always there when we needed him.

I have all kinds of stuff to chat about. I have been too wracked with grief to consider flying, much less to consider something less rewarding like writing. Doing the dishes, crawling out of bed, and making a living has been enough challenge. But the time has come.

About Chad's amazing Viking send-off: Chad had the uncanny ability to be the best at most of the things he tried, and though you can't credit the send-off to him, it was nevertheless the most special, perfect event. For me, the weekend was more a time of healing than for grief. I would have had to be colder than Minnesota in winter to not cry when his glider began to smolder, then flame like a torch and finally melt. But I got to see my old friends, too, and hug them. I got to play with a fire extinguisher. I even got to play with sparklers, though I burned holes in my expensive Windbreaker jacket. I whirled around and shrieked with the sparklers, but then I was on fire and it was kinda funny except for the coat. Think massive drinking and water fights and a big bonfire and grilled steaks. Bruce Satatis and the boys staged a huge fireworks display while Chad's glider disappeared (forgive me for leaving out other key people who helped, like Jeff).

What I really want to say: Ok, the truth. I love flying, but I don't want to pay the ultimate cost for it. I don't want to see another time like this last few weeks, ever. If there is a victim, I want it to be me, because it would be easier.

Nevertheless. I don't know if I can live without flying. Paul and I always talk about how perfect we are for each other, but after a few weeks on the ground, we were both considering divorce. I flew yesterday, really late because it was rowdy and it has been 3 weeks since I last flew, a longer layoff than since I was in my cast last summer. I thought it would be too late to find any lift but I wanted the wind to abate. I flew Woodstock mountain the day after Chad died, but I wasn't demonstrating good skills or judgement. I was in a stupor. I was crying on launch. I needed some time to recover. And then yesterday, I needed it to be easy.

Adam dropped me in a bug-fart, and I thought that it was a miracle when my vario began to sing, but my first flight was an extendo and my second half an hour. Not brilliant but I wasn't concentrating. I watched the sun slide into the bay and whispered to Chad that I loved him for giving me such a gift. I saw the Decathalon below me and watched Ginny's wings against the sky.

I don't want to disregard the risks of flying. After all, if pilots like Chad and Terry can die, what hope is there for me? But yesterday, I found my soul again. Though reality always butts in. I hurt my knee landing. My timing isn't so good without flying a few times weekly, and I whacked. Not bad, just a beak, but I can't walk very well today. Hopefully it is just the swelling instead of real soft tissue damage that is hampering me.

Enough of that. Later yesterday, after flying, Adam let me climb on his bike behind him, and we raced Bruce around the taxiway. It was embarrassing when his bike coughed (because it was cold) and Bruce beat us in his van. Being beat racing a van when you are riding a hot bike is like having a pre-schooler outdo you on the computer. But it was funny to hear Adam say I should hold on because we were going to go fast. That is exactly what Chad used to say.

As much as I love the flying, it's you guys that keep me hooked. The engine block cracked on the yellow tug, right after Adam and Sunny planned on their big re-opening. Russell Brown, his great wife, Laurie, and Jim drove up here from Florida - not as representatives of Quest, but as friends -- with the engine block from the red tug Chad brought to Quest, to try and solve the problem. They worked and worked and finally the yellow tug fired up yesterday. We all clapped. Then a bolt off the landing gear came off in a test run and nicked the prop, but they got that fixed, too. I got to fly behind it.

I just got off the phone with Larry Huffman. He called to say if I ever needed to talk that he was there. That it was no bother. About what the risks really were. I chatted with Pete Lehmann earlier this week. I don't even know him well but I figured he knew more about the risks of hang gliding than most, so I called him. He spent half an hour on the phone with me, and he didn't even sound annoyed.