http://www.paraglidingforum.com/viewtopic.php?p=p578331#p578331

1978, billowing spring day at Dunstable. Clouds racing. That's me
in the air, teenager, high, and so excited. The guy on the ground is just
hurrying off with the money I had given him for the hang glider. It was a
Spirit, and yes with the sunset the sky WAS that colour. 'it matches the glider
-it's a good omen', the guy had told me.

Then over his shoulder he shouted, 'airspeed! Pull in, AIRSPEED!'

Behind me the old man with the military moustache stood there and watched. I
landed at the bottom of the hill. Then as I struggled back up the hill with the
hang glider on my back and I knew that as soon as I'd reached the top he would
say, 'shouldn't be allowed!' Or 'that's not safe!' Or 'you should be more
responsible!'

As I approached I could see that his eyes were watering from the wind and then
suddenly it seemed he could no longer hold himself back, and shaking with
emotion he shouted, 'marvelous, just marvelous!'

Then just as quickly he turned, winced, and slowly limped back down the
footpath.

I packed the glider onto an old rusty roof rack that I'd bolted on top of my
yellow Ford Escort, and for the first time that day I thought about food. The
wind was stronger, and it was getting cold and dark.

Thanks to James Bradley.