The trail is a stream of lessened entropy pouring through the landscape, sometimes fast, sometimes slow, sometimes smooth, sometimes rough. To follow it is not hard, but is reactive and slow. To lead it is impossible- it defines what can be done, not you. To flow with it is the trick, going fast where it allows, slow where it does not, anticipating the turns and bumps along the way and planning for them, instead of recovering from them. The flow never really pauses. Always, there is possibility ahead of your tires, always, it is your job to anticipate and execute. If you take time to think, you've lost- information takes too long to process consciously, and the trail keeps winding while your head goes straight. An 8" wide trail doesn't take long to cross when your paths diverge, and to either side lies chaos. We all venture here from time to time, sometimes we escape unharmed, sometimes with disastrous effect. We learn to fear chaos, and we learn that thinking about it takes us there. By forcing us to remain in the flow, acting without thinking, the trail physically enforces a mental discipline, a near zen state of presence yet detachment. Achieving this state makes it compelling, staying in it is almost religious. This is a story about a quest for flow. Or, depending on your viewpoint, it's a story about a slobbering zen addict who can't get enough and can't quit trying for more. It's also about a search for understanding, but we'll get to that in due time.