I have run somewhere over 15,000 miles in my life. In all of that time the only people that have asked if I need a ride are people I know. That was until last Tuesday. It was raining and some guy I had never met outside the village of Ward, Colorado was driving by and offered me a ride. I refused because I wanted to be out there running. Then again on Sunday it was epicing (think rain and snow in decent amounts, but in June above 9000 feet of elevation) outside and again I was offered a ride near Ward. The point is, for whatever reason people up here, at least a percentage are very friendly.
When I lived in Kansas I was routinely offered rides by my friends in our small town. The last six years I have been living in a very different environment. Hundreds of cars rumbled past without saying a word. I was never offered rides. The occasional whistle, shout to put on a shirt, "run Forrest run", honking horns, and a smattering of profanity were just part of the game.
Up here I wave to most of the locals. They offer me rides. Bicyclists and I wave or give encouragement to each other. Locals on the side of the road say "hi" and the moose don't charge at me. I can't say that it's better than running in a city with predictable weather, sidewalks, water fountains to refill my water bottle, and an endless number of different loops instead of only three roads. However, the traffic is low, the people are nice, and the scenery is just fantastic.
Cresting the hill on the road from Jamestown to the Peak to Peak and seeing Audobon and Sawtooth there under a light blue sky is just amazing. No tree covered hill or barren field compares to a steep partly snow covered mountain less than ten miles away.