Life as a pedestrian is a challenge. Even in larger cities, not having a vehicle limits freedom. In an area like this one, the motorless existence is especially confining.

Walking is often regarded as a complete negative, but only by those who have fully succumbed to car addiction and succumbed to a little something I like to refer to as “Christine Syndrome.” Such people have had their sensibilities warped by their motor vehicles (not unlike Arnie Cunningham from the Stephen King novel Christine).

There are many disadvantages to being a pedestrian, and there are, likewise, disadvantages to relying on a car. Walkers never have to bother with one-way streets or fret over inspection stickers. So long as their legs and feet are functional, the pedestrian is guaranteed mobility. There are no insurances or licenses, and fuel for a long walk can be as cost-efficient as a Little Debbie cake and a bottle of water.

For some journeys, a car is necessary; for others, a car is ludicrous. Going to work 10 miles away is car-appropriate; going to a clothing store four blocks over to buy a pair of pre-faded jeans is not.

Walking demands patience. Sufferers of Christine Syndrome have little or no patience, thanks to their complete aversion to self-sufficient mobility. Blazing 66 miles an hour in a bright red sports car requires not patience, but gasoline and good insurance. Traffic jams can impart the driver with patience, but only to an extent. In a traffic jam, the driver is forced to slow down against his or her will, whereas the walker takes the scenic route freely.

In rural areas like this one, not having a car is a real burden. Generally, the rural pedestrian is only a pedestrian because of financial or legal limitations.
As enjoyable and efficient a thing as need-based walking can be, it comes with a plethora of risks and limitations.

In pedestrian-friendly cities and suburbs, crosswalks and sidewalks are everywhere. Walking folk such as myself are appreciative of these structures, as they minimize our chances of being flattened by soccer moms in unnecessarily hulking SUVs. But around these parts, walking accommodations are less dependable than a boozed-up Mel Gibson at a bar mitzvah. The buttons on our crosswalks often fail to acknowledge pedestrian presences, even after rigorous pressing. Our sidewalks end abruptly mid-trek, leaving the stroller with no safe roadside terrain.

In addition to these environmental concerns, the pedestrian also has to contend with an obnoxious road-ruling class. From the safety of their fast, heavy, metal boxes, drivers terrorize the defenseless walking class with drive-by insults and curb-clipping.

Curb-riders are a walker’s greatest nightmare. If a curbside folly can sideline horror maestro and walkin’ dude Stephen King in Maine, then imagine the risk of curb- clipping in Virginia, whose NEXTEL fan base exceeds King’s 10-1. All the walker can do in the event of a drive-by insult is turn the other cheek, a la Jesus. When a curb-jockey draws too close to the no-wheel zone, the walker can only hug the sidewalk and pray to Jesus for a quick lapse into unconsciousness.

Some other seasonal threats that the pedestrian must contend with are ice in winter and deer ticks in the summertime. Ice is a problem for driver and walker alike; every man, woman, and child in transit fears the malignancy of the icy patch.

Deer ticks, though, are strictly a pedestrian concern. Deer ticks attach themselves to walkers and soak up a free meal and a free ride. These moochers spread disease and, like the worst unwanted houseguests, disregard all attempts at reason. The deer tick can only be removed by fire or by means of a firm counter-
clockwise twist. Ticks are the vampires of the walking world. Garlic fails to repel this breed of bloodsucking freaks, but fortunately DEET proves a worthy substitute.

On the flip side of the tarmac, there are some real advantages to walking in such pedestrian-unfriendly parts as these. If the walker can survive treading around an uphill curve sans crosswalk against 60 mph traffic, then many an adventure can be found, the likes of which the four-wheel spoiled types never encounter … such as walking around an uphill curve against 60 mph traffic.

Other examples of walking adventures include but are not limited to having disjointed conversations with bums, holding impromptu staring contests with squirrels, and enjoying the various smells of the rural countryside (most are foul, but a couple are borderline pleasant).

The pedestrian and the car-lovin’ lifestyles are fraught with their distinctive pros and cons. But you have to admit, the pedestrian existence is a lot more exciting than it looks. Remember that Arnold Schwarzenegger flick from the ’80s, The Running Man? When Arnold stopped running, he walked. If Arnold did it in a movie in the 1980s, then it can be nothing short of badass.

Charles Smith is a native scamp of Southwest Virginia. He is both an accomplished meanderer and a former backyard wrestling champion. He hopes to someday own a cat that he can name “Seven” in memory of George Costanza.