When I started telling people in Philly that I was moving to Des Moines, among the jokes about corn and hogs and various horrified reactions at the supposed rurality, there was an oft-repeated refrain about how flat it was out there, and how different it would be. I shook my head ruefully, and agreed that it would be strange to live in such a geographically monotonous locale.
Guess what, Philly friends? We were completely full of shit.
Iowa – or Des Moines, at the very least – is actually quite hilly. A lot of the city compares to the Fairmount Park area, but there are sections that stack up next to Manayunk in terms of sheer topography. I haven’t seen anything that would compare to San Francisco, say, and I’m guessing that a statewide average of the state would probably make for a drastically uninteresting graph, but it’s far from being the featureless prairie that we all expected.
So there you go. Don’t ever let it be said that I’m too proud to admit when I’ve labored under a mistaken assumption. Also when pretty much everyone I know has made the same mistake. I’ll admit that all day long.