Josh and DadSteve are arriving at the Salzburg airport, and they note that their lead is now gone because of the decision to train it instead of cabbing it. This is clearly making Josh feel like he's living on the bottom of someone's shoe, but several other teams made exactly the same choice, so while it was probably wrong, it was hardly a mistake that could only happen to you if you were on the low end of the totem pole of smarts. Which, let's face it, isn't that tall a pole at this point anyway. DadSteve and Josh find that the first flight to Paris is full, much to their consternation.

"Sorry, Reichen! I love you, Reichen," Tian taunts as she heads toward the plane, passing the Chipsters who are still waiting at the ticket counter to see if they can get on the Frankfurt flight. Reichen stands with his head down on the counter, waiting for the lady to see if she can get them some tickets. The agent eventually appears and tells Reichen that he's "in luck," because she can get him on the flight. Note that Reichen alone appears to be responsible for these particular plane tickets, given that he's the one who comes over and hugs Chip in relief while holding the tickets. There is scattered applause as they board at what appears to be the last minute, although it's impossible to tell who's clapping. It doesn't seem likely that it would be strangers. At least, strangers never applaud for me when I get on a plane. Perhaps I'm not chiseled enough. Anyway, The Amazing Yellow Line traces the route from Salzburg to Frankfurt.

6:04 AM. AirSteve and Dave, bringing up the rear. As usual, they read their clue and chuckle as if to say, "I can't believe they expect us to do this." Which was cute for a leg or two, but has now become totally old. Dave explains in their off-the-mat voice-over that the key to winning is not making mistakes. He and AirSteve don't make mistakes, because as air traffic controllers, you can't afford to. Apparently, they're not counting the two wrong trains they got on last week, the time they waited to poach a taxi that never came, or walking on the moving sidewalk. Come to think of it, if they direct air traffic the way they race, I think I might look for cities other than Chicago through which I can connect, thank you very much. I'm not really looking to add "midair collision" to my list of life experiences. Oh, and they decide to take a train to Salzburg, so there's another reason to take that layover in Houston.