We adults can't fish effectively without our neoprene waders and our graphite fly rods, but some kids who came with their parents are less spoiled and they catch several and have them for dinner. Man bites piranha. The most powerful impression I have of the Amazon rain forest is the overwhelming numbers of species. Compare that to your Montana lodgepole forest. For some reason, plants in the Amazon usually don't grow near other plants of the same species.
Nobody knows why, though theories abound.
Nobody knows how many species of katydids live here, for example, but our bug walks demonstrate that there are worlds, maybe whole galaxies of katydids. On the river after dinner, strange southern stars emerge, the sky awhirl with Amazon bats, some only a couple of inches across, others seeming near the size of seagulls. The Amazon also holds strange species that don't exist anywhere else and have no relatives. This bird lives in the treetops over standing water and is about the size of a domestic chicken. It is not a picture of grace, flopping awkwardly around the treetops when approached.