Get real about risks. All of the openness and approachability we celebrate on a bike makes us vulnerable, too. I decided before my trip that I wasn’t comfortable being the only one in a campground, so I made backup plans for each campsite. Moore said she was amazed how people went out of their way to help her. Nothing bad happened on her trip, “but that’s not guaranteed,” she said. “There’s more risks for women, more risks for people of color.” Blonsky said she has been fortunate to have not run into any issues, but she doesn’t advertise when she’s alone and trusts her gut — if a place doesn’t feel right, she camps elsewhere. “I quickly set up camp, and I’ll say my partner is coming soon,” she said. She shares her plans with a friend so someone knows where she’s supposed to be and when she’s supposed to be there. In rural areas, she puts an American flag on her bicycle, which she said makes the locals feel like she’s one of them, “even if I’m a hippie on a bike.” Retana said he was cautioned about riding through Appalachia because he’s Latino. “People told me, ‘You’re going to get hurt … or worse,’ ” he said. “But it was the opposite. I met some moonshiners who let me camp on their property and sent me off with some moonshine.” Use common sense with your belongings and take care not to throw around flashy gear. Finally, you don’t have to bike overnight to know that car drivers are natural nemeses: They speed, inch too close, swerve and text while driving. If you can, ride on bike paths. If you must share the road with cars, use bike lights, even during the day.