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A few largish “flyover country” cities don’t have many outdoor spaces within a half-day travel that aren’t ugly and generally unpleasant. Wading in a stream? Disgusting mud up to your knees, far deeper than the water was, and an odor that will survive multiple showers despite your being quite certain none of it touched your skin. You learn to avoid all water, because it’s simply gross. “Woods”? Short Mordor-like bunches of trees and if there’s not a well-maintained path you’ll be cutting your way through poison ivy, wicked sticker bushes, and cobwebs every step, while assuredly picking up some ticks. And you’ll be covered in mud if it’s rained in the last 72 hours. You learn to avoid wild areas with trees. Drive a couple counties over to a state park with “falls” in the name? It’s a four-foot drop and more “mud slide” than falls. Nice views as a reward for any of this? LOL.

There are parts of this country that make one long for the emptiness of Kansas. At least there’s a kind of stark beauty in seeing nothing until the Earth curves away at the horizon. And biking on those zero-elevation-change-for-miles arrow-straight country roads can be meditative.