Pre-Flight

Ralph Sickinger

My, oh my, what a month it's been! Obviously, the most significant event of the past month was the loss of one of our own, Ed Reno. I have to admit that this hit me pretty hard when I found out. I can't say that I was terribly close to Ed, but I knew him, and he was fun to be around. It is thanks to him that I can proudly call myself a "Falcoñero". I guess I've always known intellectually that hang gliding is not without it's hazards, and that it is possible to die in this sport; but Ed's accident brought that fact up close and personal. In the days afterward, I went through a lot of emotions, not the least of which was fear. In the end, my love of flying overcame that fear, and I have flown again since then. But I fly with a renewed respect for Mother Nature. It's important though, for me to give credit (and thanks) to the person who helped me through my grief, and allowed me to heal enough to return to the air: Ed's son Danny. The decision to celebrate Ed's life, instead of mourning his loss at a somber funeral, turned out to be a good one. Trying to keep a memorial "celebration" moving and upbeat, is no easy task; but Danny handled it with a grace and humor that belied his youth. In the end, the event turned out to be very uplifting. Of course, nothing involving hang glider pilots is ever completely normal... starting with when I pulled into the parking lot of the funeral parlor: the back row of the parking lot was one long row of pick-ups, vans, and SUVs; most of them with strange looking racks on the front of them. A few of them with gliders on top. I walked in, worried about not knowing anyone. As it happened, I knew half of the people there. Seeing so many members of the flying community there made me feel better; at least then I knew that I wasn't alone. Soon we all sat down, and Danny introduced himself. He mention that a weepy affair just would not have suited his dad at all, and he invited people to tell their favorite "Ed" stories, so that we could all remember him, and maybe even laugh a little. Brian Vant-Hull was brave enough to speak first, and told how Ed "invented" the "Falcoñeros". I got up next, and was promptly introduced as "the young man in the back". (I can't tell you how much better that made me feel!) Anyway; I had been thinking about Ed since I heard the news, and trying to figure out what I could say about him. And the only thing that came into my mind was this image of Ed, up in heaven: I see all the other angels, floating around (upright), flapping their little wings and carrying their harps around. Meanwhile, Ed's harp lies on a nearby cloud, unused and rusting. Ed has his wings extended, and he is proned out; circling in thermals or ridge soaring out in front of the Pearly Gates. Checking out his wings, he's thinking "Hmmm; double-surface, low-drag, and TOPLESS... COOL!" And he's enjoying every minute of it! The point is, that was Ed's way; unconventional, most certainly, but no matter where he was, or what he was doing, he was always enjoying himself. I left the celebration with a smile; feeling better about life, about hang gliding, and about my friends in the CHGPA.

The rest of the rest of the month continued to be busy: the board finished selecting a new logo, and Joe Gregor has been trying to move mountains with the FAA, trying to get a waiver approved to allow us to fly at the High Rock fly-in. Of course, if turns out that we can't get the waiver, maybe we can get Joe to just move the actual mountain itself. (Might be easier...) Or, we can skip the mountain altogether and go straight to the LZ, where we'll just socialize, have fun, and raise some money for Emma Jane. The following weekend it's out to Ridgely for the Highland Aerosports fly-in. And, while you're reading this, I'm down in Nags Head, enjoying the Kitty Hawk Air Games.

So, do you think that after all of that flying, that we'll finally get our fill?

Naw... me neither. Remember, being a hang glider pilot isn't a disease; it's just a personality disorder.