Spooks and goblins

A few years ago I lived in a 100-year-old parsonage in a small town in central Illinois. The stairs creak, the stained-glass windows rattle with the slightest breeze, doors open and close spontaneously. The halls are dark and narrow, because of the crooked walls and floors and cracks in the walls and ceiling, they have a crazy-house look. Ominous moaning sounds issue forth from the vicinity of the chimney, and invading critters occasionally make a ruckus in the attic, within the walls, or in the basement. Gurgling noises occasionally come from the ancient plumbing.
The biggest tree in town is in the front yard of this house, and the branches of this and other trees constantly scrape against the side. The big trees surrounding the home also ensure the house is constantly in shadow.

Because the town funeral home is directly across the street, tales abounded of dead bodies stored in our parsonage and of embalming fluid or blood leaking from the pipes. The guy we bought the house from was untalkative, pale, reclusive and a bit strange.

Consequently, every kid in town thought our house was about the creepiest place in the whole world. My son's friends would come to spend the night in "the haunted house" on a dare, and in every instance we ended up having to drive the kids back home by 10 p.m. It probably helps that this home is on the edge of town where the huge cornfields surrounding our farm town butts up against our fence. Have I mentioned that kids hate the movie "Children of the Corn"?

My children, though, lived in that house since birth. They were familiar with every creak, every moan, every gurgle. To them, there's nothing at all frightful or dangerous about the home.

This fear that my children's friends have of our haunted house not a rational fear, but the fear is very real nontheless. In the same way, many cyclists are fearful of riding with traffic, even if rationally you understand that riding in traffic is not all that dangerous.

My teen years were spent in Japan, where I biked all over the congested streets of my town outside of Tokyo. As a 13-year-old it was no big deal at all that I rode within inches of truck traffic right on the highway. Today, I ride right in the midst of heavy traffic and I'm teaching my children how to do the same. I'm familiar with riding in traffic and it's no big deal to me and many other road cyclists. I spent my college years and most of my working years cycling in large cities, over rural farm roads, and through sprawled suburbs.

I've discovered, though, that many people can't imagine riding with traffic. My city and nearby Boulder, Colorado have wonderful wide bike lanes all over the place, but I see several cyclists riding on the sidewalk right next to the bike lane. Many mountain bikers that I know who jump cliffs and break bones doing what they love absolutely refuse to ride on the road because it's "too dangerous."

I write all of this to point you to Cycledog, who writes about fear of road traffic with much more skill than I'm capable of.

How about you? Do you believe that bicycling with traffic is dangerous? Are you fearful of riding in traffic in spite of what you know?

Tags: fear anxiety cycling haunted