It is a fair and pleasant day here in Idaho, with the skies smiling bluely and the sun dappling the greening land; to the West, the GrEat Pacific rolls gently in from the far Orient, bringing faint traces of jasmine, oolong, and the occasional used humdrum. Soft breezes are just now playing along the mountain slopes to the West, where the barren wastes of Oregon lie hidden on the far slope ready to ensnare any woebegone traveler who is foolish enough to want to leave this paradoxical countryside.