I figured I'd be all-but-murdered for riding in the streets when I lived in WV. There is no such thing as a "bike lane" and the shoulders in the Huntington area measure about three inches wide (most of which is full of shattered glass). The people are fat and often rude, so I was always prepared for the worst when I'd head out in the morning.

Oddly enough, I never got one honk or rude gesture. The closest I came was when a buddy and I were playing stoplight sprints with a dump-truck, and he was getting visibly upset at the fact we were beating him every time.