The sister of someone I know stopped traveling after losing her husband a few years ago. She misses travel, I heard, so I asked why she does not take tours with groups that cater to single women. "She wouldn't do that" was the answer.
A Houston couple shared a table with me at a Yellowstone café. "You're traveling alone?," asked the woman, a retired teacher. "That's brave."
I've traveled alone so much that I hardly give it a second thought. In retrospect some of the trips look gutsy – like car camping through New England for six weeks and going behind the Iron Curtain – but I didn't think so at the time. Plenty of things scare me. We're probably all brave about some things and not others.