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"Fear is a fact of life everyone faces from time to time. In most cases fearis a healthy reaction to a dangerous situation. But sometimes fear can be so extreme, so overwhelming, that it interferes with normal living. That is what happened to me driving cross-country last summer. [2] I'd agreed to help my brother, Mac, move from the East Coast to California. He would drive a rental truck loaded with his belongings and I would follow him in his sedan, then fly back. We figured it would be a simple trip, with four or five motel stops along the way. [3] Living and working in coastal Georgia for most of my life, I did not have a great deal of long-distance driving experience. Looking back on it today, I can see that I'd always felt a twinge of fear when driving over small bridges and along hilly highways. And as I was getting ready for the trip I had a vague concern about the steep mountain roads that lay ahead. But I thought I would get used to them. [4] As we crossed some high bridges near the Blue Ridge Mountains on the first leg of our trip, a kind of breathlessness gripped me, a sinking, rolling sensation in the pit of my stomach. I tended to veer slightly away from the edge of the roadway and the drop-off beyond. My knuckles whitened from my tense grip on the steering wheel. At the end of each bridge, a great rush of relief would come over me, only to be replaced in short order by fear of the next obstacle. [5] When we stopped in Nashville the first night, I mentioned my feelings to Mac, who is the practical sort. "Oh, that's nothing," he said cheerfully . "Lots of people hate driving on mountain roads and high bridges. Just turn up the music on your radio and focus on that. Keep your mind occupied." | 
