Do You Know Where Your Happiness Lies? In The Purpose Driven Life , I consider the question “What on earth am I here for?” This book considers another important question: “Where on earth should I be living?” Is where you live worth the stress? No one is forcing you to stay where you are. It’s your choice. —From the foreword by Dr. Rick Warren, author of The Purpose Driven Life Would you be happier if you lived somewhere else? A place where the quality of life is greater than the cost of living? Such places do exist—you just have to look a little harder to find them. The answer probably doesn’t lie in the big coastal cities: the cost-of-living gap between those urban areas and the heartland is an immense chasm. And yet the “sophistication gap” between these regions is steadily shrinking—cable tv, computers, fax machines, cell phones, and broadband Internet access are making it possible to work almost anywhere. Forbes publisher Rich Karlgaard wanted to explore the new appeal of “flyover” country, and he decided to sky-hop around America in a single-engine Cessna, talking to people—those with a nose for entrepreneurship, a faith in technology, and the willingness to take a chance—who found their bliss in places like Green Bay, Wisconsin; Des Moines, Iowa; and Bozeman, Montana. America offers up scores of these gems—cities and towns with a winning combination of low cost of living and high quality of life—and Karlgaard provides an in-depth look at the country’s 150 cheapest (and greatest) places to live. Life 2.0 is the story of those who are living larger lives in smaller places, and a road map for those who want to follow their lead. Where is your happiness? Check out Life 2.0’s “150 Cheapest Places to Live” section, featuring dozens of cities and towns that offer the good life at a great price. Rich Karlgaard is the publisher of Forbes magazine and one of its three editorialists. His column, “Digital Rules,” focuses on the intersection of technology, economics, and public policy. For more information, go to life2where.com. Chapter 1 Trapped in a Cloud Cave I push the throttle all the way forward to the airplane's instrument panel and begin rolling down Runway 31 at Fargo, North Dakota's Hector Field. The engine kicks in as my Cessna 172SP Skyhawk lurches forward and picks up power. At a speed of 60 knots, in response to a gentle pull on the yoke, the Cessna's wheels lift from the blacktop. I'm airborne. Right away there's a bad omen. Air traffic control says three National Guard F-15 jets are practicing touch-and-gos on the same runway, so I must keep a sharp lookout. A midair collision with a six-ton military kerosene burner capable of clipping along at Mach 2 would shatter my four-seat Skyhawk. The only thing left of me and my sorry encounter would be a four-paragraph story in tomorrow's edition of the local papers. Ten minutes go by without incident, and finally I am out of harm's way. Across the Red River and into western Minnesota the air smooths out and I feel settled. First crisis averted. What am I doing up here? That's a question I have asked myself countless times since taking up flying at age forty-five. Is this some kind of midlife crisis? Am I running away? Back on the ground, friends of my wife are asking the same question. What's he doing up there? I have left my wife and two young children for several weeks to fly a small airplane solo over the U.S. heartland. Officially, there is a reason-an editorial mission. I'm looking for Americans who have fled high-priced cities and suburbs as a way of coping with a crummy stock market, a lousy economy, broken dreams, and post-9/11 terrorism fears. Americans "flying home" to their roots will constitute a major demographic trend of the early 2000s. Or so I think. Today, I'm en route from Fargo to Green Bay, Wisconsin, on an instrument flight plan. I have chosen a path that will take me north of Minneapolis by forty miles. This morning I heard a report on the Weather Channel predicting late-afternoon thunderstorms moving up from Iowa. I'm anxious to avoid these troublemakers. This storm-the product of a summer cold front moving northward at 20 miles per hour-will contain lightning, hail, and possibly tornadoes. Such meteorological chaos is typical in the Midwest in the spring and summer. A river of warm, moist air collides with a solid wall of cold air. The roiling begins and in minutes thick gray vertical cumulonimbus clouds (thunderheads, they're called) can rise 50,000 feet or more. Hail is not uncommon, while severe updrafts, downdrafts, and 100-mph bursts of wind can toss a small airplane around like a beer can on a stormy lake. Summer cold fronts are not to be mucked with. These nasties can even bring down a commercial airliner. On August 2, 1985, Delta Airlines flight 191, an L-1011 widebody jet, crashed near Dallas, killing most aboard. Among the dead was Don Estridge, the inventor of the IBM personal computer. Who