Wiśnierska's famous 'cause she didn't die
past thirty thousand feet, where air gets thin.
The meethead deemed the weather fit to fly;
to scratch the task would mean she couldn't win.
Convection carries energy aloft;
excited molecules each take more room.
Despite appearances, that cloud's not soft;
the white room's dark between each flash and boom.
Competitors--too oft--subordinate
their own good judgement to that meethead's call.
The race is on! And those who hesitate
can't add a shiny trophy to their wall.
While Gadd and Castle opt to sit one out
a lesser pilot can't admit to doubt.
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