When I lived in Europe I rode my bike on two-lane country roads from town
to town just for fun.  I was a teenager, never wore a helmet, and never
had an accident, never even came close to getting hit.  Some call it luck.
I was not required to wear a seatbelt in my parent's Fiat either.  We
lived, survived and had a great time growing up.

I came to US and joined the Air Force.  I would ride on base with
problems.  I got out of the Air Force and took my passion for bicycles
onto the city streets of Montgomery, AL.  Oh, boy, what a mistake!  It
didn't take very long for me get the message from the aggressive,
territorial and ignorant drivers.  I bought a mountain bike and started
riding on a local 16-mile trail.  It's funny to think that I'm safer
riding on a narrow, twisted, rooted and bumpy trail reaching rather
serious speeds on downhills within feet, sometimes inches, of trees,
making tight turns on the edges of ravines in place where crashing often
means you either hit a tree some rock that's hidden under a layer of dead
leaves than I am bicycling in a "civilized" environment.

A few years ago Montgomery turned down a "rails to trails" project that
would have given a safe place for many to jog and bike and would have
opened  up a route to down town where many work.  Why am I still here?
It's an even longer story that I don't want to bore you with, but I will
tell you that my Vanagon takes me to the places where I really want to be
and that makes it more bearable.

Chris.