“Wuffo?”  That’s what we skydivers call people who can’t understand why we risk everything for the thrill of our sport: “Wuffo,” as in “what for”? Why would we jump out of airplanes and trust our lives to the whims of small mechanisms that can, and sometimes do, fail? Why would we sail close to rocky cliffs in thin wingsuits, leaving little room for error between the wind and our ability to make snap judgments about speed and distance? And why would we do it again and again, even after losing