If I could grow wings. I would.

I believe that their are still those who believe that man was not meant to fly.

Those people are stupid.

It was a cloudy rainy day in Queenstown but Rachel and I were determined to do so. Besides Queenstown is the adventure capitol of the world and I had never jumped off a cliff before and soared like a bird. We chose Skytrek mainly because they had been taking single fixed wing hang- gliders off the mountains in Queenstown for 18 years. Ian was my pilot and he actually owned the company. That put me at ease. Not that I was nervous. More worried that we wouldn't get off the ground because of the weather. But sure enough Ian was determined to try despite the rain.

Our Launch Pad:

"The Remarkables". Stunning raw and jagged this chain of mountains are appropriately named and are the perfect backdrop for Queenstown. It took a while for the pilots to set up their gliders so in the meantime I stood atop the Remarkables in awe of the wind and sheer drop before me. I was to go first. I was strapped into the Leonardo Da Vinci looking contraption next to Ian and we pulled ourselves up the the edge-the flyer lurching in the wind ready to fly as if it was telling us to get the show on the road. And then we sat their looking over that edge for nearly 20 minutes waiting to get clearance from the airport. (it was nearby and they didn't want us hitting any planes).

"So..how many people have you killed in this thing?", I ask to kill the time. "Only three" Ian dryly replies. Still no word from the Airport. The wind is rushing up the mountain into our faces. I look down and ponder what would happen if the Bernoulli Effect for some cosmic reason decided not to work and we had no lift to our wing strapped to my back. Somewhere deep in my throat a lump develops.

Still no word from the airport.

"So..how do you steer this thing?" My attempt at small talk does little to kill my anticipation. The wind and rain blows harder. The fixed wing jerks harder wanting to fly, like a dog begging to be off its leash. "What Steering?", Ian calmly replies. His humor somehow falls flat on my nervousness. I start choking on that lump. It would have been better had we just jumped.

A crackle comes over the radio. We have clearance. On queue, as if I commanded it, the sky suddenly opens up. A batch of blue has found this side of the mountain. The rain stops and the clouds break over Lake Wakatipu and the valley below.

Step one, Step two and my legs were no longer on solid ground. The next thing I knew we were airborne as if God himself had reached down and picked us up with his own hand. Its was the smoothest transition to flight and I realized that the ground was 700 meters below my stomach. The lump in my throat fell out, replaced only with smiles and the beauty of the spectacle before me. Ten minutes, two stalls, and two dives later my feet (or should I say my stomach) was safely on the valley floor below.

"Too Short" I say...as with most things..."Too Short".

"Can we do it again?"