One of my scariest trips ever on bicycle was a seven-mile jaunt home from Watertown, Massachusetts to Cambridge in the middle of winter, after dark, on a three-speed commuter with no lights, on a stretch of road which had no street lights but a moderate amount of high-speed traffic. My fingers were freezing despite the warm gloves, and as much (or as little) ambient light as there was from the other side of the river, I found the lights of cars behind me to be a helpful aid as they approached -- but a bane as they passed, leaving me temporarily blinded by their relative brilliance.





