By Brandon Case
Pratt cyclist and columnist
Great Plains Wondering

“Omaha, somewhere in middle America. Get right to the heart of matters. It’s the heart that matters more.” – Counting Crows

We live in a part of America which has been described as The Great American Desert and Flyover Country. For many on the East and West Coasts, the states comprising the Great Plains are a mostly forgotten land. Anyway, it’s not a destination for most (although I regularly hear of people trickling in to settle here from other places).

Middle America: it’s our home, a place perhaps written off by political pundits and “clowns to the left … jokers to the right.”

Nevertheless, for many of us, life in the middle has a unique appeal. The skies are wide and open, frequently offering dramatic sunsets. Traffic, especially outside of larger towns, is typically not a huge hassle. People are often friendly toward each other, and neighbors regularly come through when someone is in a bind. Certainly, it can be a hard land to live in, with its weather extremes (though what place doesn’t experience the same today?), and life here definitely isn’t for everyone.

For those of us born here or those who consciously choose to call this land home, Middle America first embraces, then slowly enfolds, and, finally, firmly grips us. We become lifers.

While most Americans don’t think much about Middle America, our bountiful harvests and domestic livestock products fill store aisles and cupboards of homes from east to west and north to south.

So, don’t despair beneath winter’s gray skies and icy winds that you’re not living somewhere else. Others may pass through the middle as quickly as possible. For those of us left behind may this always be a land where we can stand and see the far horizon.