NOV 16, 2009 – 12:00AM

There’s something about riding a bike that just seems to encourage exploration.

A couple of years ago, I decided I was bored with my usual recreational rides around Douglas and surrounding counties. I got in a bit of a rut heading out for “my 35-mile ride” or my “50-mile loop.” I had alternatives, depending on road work or, more frequently, the prevailing wind — I prefer to ride out into a headwind and enjoy a tailwind on the return — but there wasn’t a lot of variety.

So I got my hands on a detailed map of Douglas County and fired up Google Maps for out-of-county trips and found a whole bunch of new rides.

I had ridden to Baldwin several times, but added nearby Black Jack.

I had ridden within a few miles of it before, but one ride’s destination was Twin Mound (or Twin Mounds, depending on the map). It wasn’t nearly as picturesque as I had imagined, but I’m 95 percent sure I picked out the mounds.

One ride I took to Jarbalo, just because.

On another, I refueled in the shade of the state’s largest cottonwood. At least, it was until falling victim to a lightning strike earlier that season.

That fall I made a special trip to the seasonally appropriate Fall Leaf.

Some of the rides were thematic: Black Jack to Reno, for instance (I never doubled-down, though), or the Mini-Minnesota ride (touring Lone Star, Clinton, Perry and Lakeview lakes).

Curiously, I’ve never felt the urge to hop in the car to go on similar junkets, though I have made the kids ride along so I could show off, for instance, the buffalo ranch and the train parked in somebody’s front pasture I happened upon during the same exploratory ride.

That same wanderlust extends to my bike commutes.

I’m not sure there’s a street in a mile-wide corridor that stretches from my front door to the News Center downtown that I haven’t ridden at least once.

Though I usually take the most-direct path, occasionally I’ll find myself wondering just where a previously unseen road goes, and before long I find out.

When I’m stuck driving to work, the route rarely varies: get on Sixth; Sixth to New Hampshire; park. Yawn.

But under my own power, I actually enjoy making the commute last just a little bit longer, all in the name of exploration.