for those mathematically inclined; if you take ultrawow, dodecahedrawow, and boombamwowza and fence them in with parentheses raised to the wow power, you'll find that the sum is eight, but an eight so bamfoozled with awesomeness that it faints euphorically and lands on it side suggesting a different answer altogether. for those of a culinary persuasion; take two pounds of lean grain-fed fantasticness and marinade it in a warm glaze of radicalized effervescence, set your oven to summer and sprinkle the pan with diced paradise. for those neither mathematical nor gastronomical i offer one last analogical lottery ticket; close your eyes and think back to a day when you were young enough to ignore thoughts of health and wealth and remember the day you laid down under a breezy june tree and let the sun shadows play on your face until you were almost asleep but woke with a clarified snap of realization that only minutes away there existed a chocolate freezer pop and a preoccupied mom. what i'm trying desperately to get at here is the all out wonder i felt at falling down a rabbit hole in idaho known as " the trail of the hiawatha". this parking lot miracle is thirteen miles of ex-railroad converted to bicycle trail. it starts with a 1.7 mile tunnel; basement-closet dark and dripping with unseen cave-splatters of aquatic acousticness. you start in montana and when you come out of the tunnel, you're in idaho and it's one hour earlier. it's not just a bike ride, it's a journey into the past. from the end of the tunnel you ride 13 miles downhill through idaho mountain forests and over improbably high and questionable railroad bridges to a park-service shuttle that takes you back to the start of the trail. cheers to my amazing daughter who sang her way through the tunnels and rutted gravel trail.