Gary, was that madness,
when you lent me your primary?
Just sticks and fabric, sealed with dope
Held together by sinews of steel.
Exposed, I sat under a man made wing.
Winched up into the dawn sky
by a simple car pulled rope.
Barely higher than the tree tops
I soared amongst angels,
though it was the kindness of your trust
that was the most angelic of them all.
(A primary is a simple, one man glider, used mostly in the early part of the twentieth century).
This is Gary flying the same glider, at the Long Mynd.