In the Middle of Somewhere

Where are you? Two friends texted, separately, within an hour of each other. Western Nebraska, I said. So you're in the middle of nowhere, both of them wrote back. I really paused. I had flown into Denver and taken a nine-seater plane to Alliance: a tiny plane, a tiny airport, a tiny place. And just before the texts came in, I had been looking at the Atlas Obscura map and counted eight other places within a ninety-minute drive that I wanted to go to. I was bummed that I didn't have time to stay. So I texted my friends back: No, I'm in the middle of somewhere. One week later I was in the nor...