You can’t go traveling on your bike. It’s dangerous out there!
Are you going alone?? (my response of – would you like to come with me? always gets a “no” reply, of course) Who is going to take care of you? (I need taken care of? seriously?!)
You’re not going to {some country} are you? That’s a dangerous country (insert the name of any country you are not in at the moment).
I came across this great article today On Rape and Racism, by Emily Chappell, a solo female cyclist who has traveled extensively. I want to save this link so I can refer to it later, and so I can explore the rest of this blog when I get a moment.
Nothing is guaranteed safe. Of course I won’t purposely do foolish things but I’m also not going to stop doing what I want to do because I’m afraid.
The article above is a bit long, but the heart of it is in the last paragraph which I will share here:
Please stop asking me whether it’s dangerous for me to travel alone, and think about the prejudices and flawed assumptions that lie behind that very question – which must be responsible for countless women reconsidering, revising, and even abandoning their travel plans completely. It loses sight of the extraordinary privilege of voluntary, independent travel. Really, you should congratulate me on how lucky I am – to be able to move across continents for the joy and the challenge of it, rather than because I have to. To be welcomed in the places I visit, rather than treated with hostility and suspicion. To have a passport that allows me visa-free entry to more countries than any other, and to have a powerful government ready to pull out all the stops to rescue me if something does go wrong. To command a level of respect I haven’t had to work as hard for as many other people do, and to know my complaints and accusations (if I ever have cause to make any) will be listened to and believed. To be educated, financially independent, physically strong and able, and to have grown up in a society that, despite its flaws, has enabled me to go out into the world and have my adventures. When you look at my privilege, compared to that of many of the people I have travelled among, it is beyond tasteless to suggest that I am the vulnerable one.
The Silver Wheels Blog 
When I was moving to Panama EVERYONE asked me if it’s safe. Safe, I’d say, I live in frickin Yakima. Panama is way safer and you’ll be fine. I love this place
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Yep, I think those questions happen to all of us. It’s a dangerous third world country down here, ya know! we also feel safer here than anywhere we lived in the US. I think I’ll write a post on the subject on my main blog too.
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