By Today’s Flyover People column as seen in The Emporia Gazette:
PLANE GEOMETRY
Kansas stands out on the United States map.
When TV meteorologists forecast the national weather, our eyes are drawn to the state that is smack dab in the center of the screen.
But to some coastal folks, especially those who will never wander to the middle of the country, Kansas is indistinguishable; it’s merely “one of those rectangular states.”
Believe it or not, some people can’t tell Kansas from Nebraska.
Like those sibling states above us, Nebraska, North and South Dakota, Kansas has a basic rectangular shape. And, like our northern neighbors, we don’t mind living in a boxy world.
When the puzzle pieces fall out of the map, it’s easy to recognize Kansas: three 90-degree corners and one minor mishap – the Missouri River cuts a squiggly chunk out of our northeast corner and awards it to the state of Missouri.
Kansas is roughly 400 miles wide and 200 miles from north to south.
Before statehood, we didn’t have the same shape. In the 1850s, the Kansas Territory came equipped with a panhandle.
Back then, Kansas stretched all the way to Denver. That city was named for James Denver who served as Kansas Territorial Governor in 1858.
If we had kept that chunk of western real estate, Mount Sunflower (elevation 4,039 feet) would not be Kansas’ highest point.
With the exception of some rolling hills and a few odd-shaped rock formations, Kansas was a smooth plane of endless grass.
Kansas must have looked like a huge sheet cake to the European settlers who couldn’t wait to cut it into little square pieces. As the Santa Fe Railroad was built, the land was divided among homesteaders.
Using the horizon as a template, the lines of Kansas were drawn.
Most of our 105 counties are in the shape of parallelograms. Inside those counties are townships and most of those townships are square or rectangular as well.
The Kansas map is full of right angles and straight lines. As you drive west, the lines (and roads) become straighter and the squares become more obvious.
Where I grew up, in the center of the state, a curve in the road was an event.
My cousin Dave, who used to be an over-the-road truck driver, once remarked, “Kansas is a dream to drive in; you don’t even have to aim.”
Most roads in Kansas are of the east-west or north-south variety.
But, in order to travel, say, in a southeasterly direction, one would need to turn left, then right, left, then right, similar to the jagged moves a child makes on an Etch-A-Sketch.
One road that wasn’t constructed on the axis is U.S. Highway 56, which follows the old Santa Fe Trail. The section of U.S. 56 that passes through Pawnee Rock is on a diagonal.
The shortest distance between two points is a straight line and sometimes that straight line is a diagonal road, which of course, runs catty-wampus to the grid.
With the exception of U.S. 56, which cuts through Pawnee Rock like a broken arm, I was raised with the grid and its dependable mile roads. If you are given directions to travel five miles north, there’s no need to watch the odometer, you just count crossroads.
Intersections show up, as expected, at each and every mile.
So, if you’re fond of rectangles and squares and straight lines, this is a happy place to be; Kansas has more right angles than a geometry book.
The layout of Kansas gives us a solid base to work from. It provides an underlying structure to our lives.
When the events of the world seem a little chaotic, we can drive through the flat land of Kansas and take comfort in its predictable order.
It’s all geometry, plane and simple.
Copyright 2009 ~ Cheryl Unruh
Good article Cheryl. I always love the images and thoughts you paint in my mind with words.
What I think is interesting is that the other diagonal road I can think of is 54. And it is somewhat parallel to 56. We’ve wondered if those roads were convenient and easy and natural to build because the wind scoured the land flat along there.
I think it quite amazing that you can think about and write something that has never occurred to me! You are enriching my life and the lives of others, too! Okay, I knew Kansas was a rectangle and 400 miles from east to west and 200 from north to south, but you’re right about the roads!
I had a college professor –from Maine, maybe, that told us that people in Kansas have a “thing” with directions. He said that he was going to see someone at a local bank and they told him to come in the west door and he’d be in the southeast corner…….he thought that it would be better to say “come in the front door and turn left.”
Does it ever bother you that some people put their houses on an ANGLE? I don’t know if I could live in a house like that–I’d be always confused–about which direction was north, etc. Makes me wonder if those living in those off-kilter houses are really native Kansans…..
When we lived in Emporia, we lived in two houses. The first faced North. The second faced South. This was initially disconcerting to Larry, because he’d always lived in houses in Emporia (as a kid) that faced either East or West, as most houses do in Emporia.
One reason for curving roads in California is the topography. It just happened that way. They built the roads where they could in the mountains.
Our house in California was square with the street, but the street confused me. I believe we were facing West there. BUT, I don’t think it was due West, and I was forever confused, due to a curve in the road that I didn’t think fit down the way. It was one of those twilight zone things that I never did figure out.
Wow, my thoughts exactly regarding roads going East & West, North & South. I was born, raised, married & raised my children in Kansas. I love the flat beautiful land & the spacious skies. Yes, mountains, rolling hills & beaches are all wonderful, but I truly love the flat, open ways of Kansas. I lived in Houston, TX for awhile & always told people trying to help me find my way to tell me what the highway number is, because all of the roads went in a circle. Thank you Cheryl for writing great things about our wonderful state.