A week or so ago, I took a three-day bike trip with several friends.

The stop for night one is almost always Wichita. This year, we approached my hometown from a different direction. The path took us along the Arkansas River downtown, and then along the “river path” in west Wichita.

I admit, while I grew up in Wichita, my cycling adventures were limited to a nature area on its east side. Since I departed in 1999, many cycling paths have popped up around town, expanding the opportunity for transit on two wheels.

As I cruised past familiar landmarks downtown, I spent some time reflecting. I thought about the story I wrote a few weeks ago about Ellsworth’s alma mater returning to homecoming.

I thought about how some of the Wichita landmarks are the same, but many of the areas we rode through were completely new to me. Some things change, and some things stay the same.

I would be the first to say that in the 26 years since I lived in Wichita, much has changed.

For example, the hotel we stayed at was an empty field during my childhood.

I also realized that I have lived in my current town several years longer than I lived in Wichita.

“Is Wichita still my hometown?” I asked myself.

In the weeks since the ride, I find myself reflecting on this question quite a bit.

If someone asked me about my hometown, I would likely reply, “I grew up in Wichita.”

But do I consider it my hometown?

I’m not sure. I still feel ties to my high school. My parents still live in Wichita. I am through town on a regular basis for appointments. But do these things make it my hometown? I’m not sure they do.

This summer, a friend from out-of-state visited me. She was in Kansas because her parents were moving from Wichita to St. Louis to be closer to their grandchildren. It was her final trip to Kansas while her parents were still residents.

My friend and I talked about how this move is the final tie severed for her. Kansas is no longer “home” for her, and she is, in essence, a woman without a hometown and home state.

As I pedaled through Wichita, my thoughts turned to Ellsworth.

Do alumni who moved away still consider it their hometown? Does the amount of change correlate to a former resident’s feeling of belonging or affect the ties to their childhood home?

I wonder if residents of rural Kansas feel deeper ties to their hometown than I might. Does the sense of knowing many of the faces you pass on the street deepen one’s ties to home? Does that make it feel “more” like home, or more likely to continue to call it home, even after 26 years?

I’m not sure I have any answers. Just plenty of questions.

I suppose, readers, that I’m curious. What makes a place home for you? For those of you who no longer reside in Ellsworth County, do you still consider it home? Why or why not? What factors into a place being “home?”

Bonar is the editor/publisher of the I-R and can be reached at kbonar@indyrepnews. com.