Oh Heinlein is probably the most social of all those early science fiction writers. I can't remember a single Heinlein story where there's one guy all alone in his spaceship, far from home, facing the great unknown. I was thinking of Time Enough For Love, where Lazarus Long and one of his wives homestead way out in the sticks; all they had was their talking mule--and that died. And, Heinlein aside, on your world that's in the process of colonization, someone is bound to end up living in the sticks with no immediate help at hand. I farmed with my family for the early part of my life, and even in the domesticated Sixties, Seventies, and Eighties are closest neighbor was still half a mile away. I can't remember a deputy sheriff driving by our farm during that time.