Injuries don't ground paraglider when friends can help him soar

Cade Richardson broke his back last December. So at 29, he needs a walker to get around. He works out six hours a day in hopes of getting his shaking, thin legs back into shape. It wasn't too long ago that he cried himself to sleep at night.

And that's why he was back in the air yesterday, paragliding off Tiger Mountain in Issaquah, doing the same thing that resulted in injuries to him and a friend Tuesday night.

"You don't have any problems up there," said Richardson of Sammamish, who has taken more than 250 flights. "You're up there by yourself, you're free and every care disappears. It's like you're sitting in a giant La-Z-Boy. It feels like being a bird, an eagle."

On Tuesday, about 6 p.m., Richardson had been preparing for his second flight of the day off Poo Poo Point on Tiger Mountain. The launching pad is a long green rug at about 1,700 feet elevation. From up there, Lake Sammamish looks small and far away.

Because of Richardson's injuries, he can't run off the launch like other "pilots" do. Two people have to hold up his harness and two others keep his parachute stable. They make sure the parachute catches the wind like a kite. Then they all run Richardson off the launch and literally hurl him off the mountainside.

Dennis Cummins, 33, of Puyallup, was one of those helping Richardson Tuesday night. His wrist got caught in one of the straps, and he flew off the mountain with Richardson.

"I felt a weight on my left side, and I saw Dennis hanging there, his arm completely extended," Richardson said yesterday. "My options were, I can fly around and my friend's going to fall to his death, or we can get to the ground now."

Down to his left, Richardson spotted a grove of trees, directed his paraglider in that direction, and slammed into it. The trees slowed their momentum and Richardson landed on his back on the ground. Cummins was about 20 feet down the steep hillside.

A Fort Lewis Army helicopter rescued them about an hour later and airlifted them to the hospital. Besides scrapes and bruises, both escaped without serious injuries.

But not without cost: Eastside Fire and Rescue Fire Marshal Mike Absher says he plans to send a rescue bill to Richardson for the intensive five-hour rescue. That will come to about $250 to $300 per hour, Absher said.

Richardson admitted to being nervous before yesterday's takeoff. He said Tuesday night was "terrifying." He's amazed that he's alive.

"But accidents happen every day," Richardson said. "When I was in the hospital (with a broken back), I saw a lot of people, other paraplegics, just bag it. They were saying, 'I don't want to live anymore.' I said, 'Forget that. I'm going to live my normal life.' "

Richardson's shattered back was the result of another paragliding accident. His paraglider collapsed after launching at Tiger Mountain and he fell about 50 feet to the ground. Pieces of vertebrae pierced his internal organs. Doctors operated for 13 hours.

Marc Chirico, a friend of Richardson's who manages the Seattle Paragliding Center next to Tiger Mountain, calls his sport "managed risk." He acknowledges the dangers — about 10 deaths per 100,000 jumps. Off Tiger, there are about 12 injuries every year.

"But the story everyone first got was wrong," Chirico said yesterday, after helping Richardson with his liftoff.

"It wasn't about a glider crashing. The real story is a brotherhood of pilots that stuck together, even when one of the guys got hurt and broke his back. That's where he finds his freedom. We're trying to get him free of his bonds."

Michael Ko: 206-515-5653 or mko@seattletimes.com.