Category: What’s New?

Posted on

34. Roundabouts routines – straight lines, wide lines, stability, view, advantage and risk

This is likely one of my most contentious posts as my position is very far from the ‘straight lines are stable lines’ approach to riding roundabout followed by many advanced riders and regularly promoted by advanced trainers. Roundabouts are junctions first and foremost, and the dominant risks are not loss of grip or any other issues caused by steering the bike but the potential for misunderstanding, misjudgement, and conflict with other road users. In that sense, a line that reduces lean angle but potentially hides the approaching bike from turning traffic and makes emerging vehicles harder to see at the same time, then increases ambiguity about the rider’s intent is not inherently safer simply because an upright line feels more stable, particularly if the rider then uses the straight line to carry more speed. In the Survival Skills approach, stability is a secondary benefit; predictability, defence, and escape options come first.

Roundabouts routines – straight lines, wide lines, stability, view, advantage and risk

A recurring topic is how to deal with roundabouts. Essentially, the problem is that there is a head-on collision between the DVSA approach as taught to new riders which follows the advice in the Highway Code, and advice from advanced sources which often talks about ‘straightening out’ roundabouts. I’ve even seen one highly dubious article which advocated turning left from the right-hand side and turning right from the left-hand side race track style. The justification was ‘more progress’ and you can probably guess by now that I thought that was extremely poor advice because roundabouts are junctions. My first (and last) question to anyone advocating a roundabout as a suitable place to be making progress is “would you speed up through a crossroads?” I think you can guess the answer to that. Here’s my own Survival Skills thinking.

Roundabouts are a kind of junction. And anywhere traffic flows cross each other are potentially dangerous places, particularly where the flow – as is the case at most roundabouts – is regulated by ‘Give Way’ markings. Like any other junction, the point of highest risk is where vehicles on conflicting courses merge and separate again.

Drivers have problems with motorcycles at junctions. Sometimes they look and cannot see the motorcycle because something blocks their view. Sometimes they look and fail to see – there are a number of well-defined reasons for this. And sometimes they see the bike, but misjudge its speed and distance, and commit to a potentially dangerous manoeuvre.

And roundabouts are also places where drivers and riders get confused about each others’ intentions. It’s not always immediately obvious where another vehicle is going.

I didn’t learn any of that from a book. I learned it all by bitter experience as a courier. Put it all together, and my experience tells me that manoeuvres that aim for us to get out the other side a second or two earlier really aren’t very sound ones.

The article in question suggested :

“If you wish to turn left or right at the roundabout then (again assuming there is no other traffic about) you will need to maximise the radius of the turn within the constraints of the road-layout”.

The diagram shows a left-turn line with a far right approach, clipping the inside kerb and exiting near the centre white line, and the mirror image for a right-turn line – a far left approach, clipping the island and exiting close to the left hand kerb.

Need? Do we NEED to maximise the radius of the turn? Of course not.

But beyond whether it’s ‘nice’ or ‘necessary’, let’s have a think about some genuine concerns with this approach.

Let’s start by pointing out that it’s entirely the opposite of the ‘keep left to turn left, keep right to turn right’ approach taught to every new driver. The standard approach is taught for a pair of very good reasons. The first is that our position sends a signal to other road users, just as much as the use of an indicator. So if we’re approaching wide left with a right indicator showing, what’s the driver to think? Maybe that we’ve forgotten to cancel the signal. And maybe he or she will believe the position rather than the signal, and pull out. The biggest plus for following the same Highway Code lines around roundabouts as we teach on basic training is that it sends clear and unambiguous signals to other road users – including pedestrians or cyclists who might be crossing the side roads, let us not forget – about our intentions. If everyone stuck to the Highway Code approach, none of us would ever be confused as to what anyone else intended. The moment we start using a non-standard approach, there’s a significant risk of confusion – other drivers won’t anticipate the manoeuvre. That’s when things go pearshaped!

The second reason is defensive. Anyone who’s ever watched a race, car or motorcycle, will know that a wide approach to a corner leaves a big gap that anyone wanting to overtake will attempt to exploit. Turning left or right from a wide position opens up a huge hole. We’re liable to find a following vehicle attempting to fill it, and if that vehicle’s going straight ahead, we have a major problem.

Someone pointed out that the statement about “assuming there is no other traffic about” means we don’t need to factor in these issues. But how often can we be ABSOLUTELY certain the junction is completely clear? Few roundabouts have perfect views to the left or right, and many have the ahead view OVER the top of the island deliberately obscured, precisely to make us more circumspect about zooming around the roundabout just as someone coming the other way turns right across our path. And did YOU think of pedestrians and cyclists?

And how far back does “no other traffic” have to extend? What if another vehicle appears just as we commit ourselves to this confusing path? When I see riders exploiting these kind of lines on roundabouts, it’s often taken to mean “no other traffic already in my path”. Hmm.

But thirdly, I’d have a concern even on a totally deserted roundabout. What should be our biggest concern after conflicts with other traffic? How about the surface? We could find a change of surface, potholes, poorly-finished repairs, gravel and bits of debris just out of sight. And where could any forward-thinking rider reasonably expect to find a diesel or fuel spill? I’d be looking for it on the wide exit to a left turn and a wide exit to a right turn – right where this article suggests we should plan to head.

And my fourth concern would be changing line if a problem emerges. Does this maximum radius line make it easier or more difficult to change direction if we need to take evasive action? If we use the line to carry more speed, the answer’s fairly obvous. And if we slow down in case we encounter a problem, what’s the benefit of maximising the radius of the turn in the first place? None that I can see.

So I would stick to the ‘keep left to turn left, keep right to turn right’ approach. But what about going straight ahead? Isn’t it safe enough to straighten out a roundabout if it’s clear? Isn’t it possible to approach on on the left, then clip the island mid-roundabout, then exit back on the left?

This is sometimes called the kerb-kerb-kerb (KKK) line and the “if it’s clear” statement is the crucial one.

Some years back, I nearly had two riders – judging by the bibs they were a pair from the local advanced group – buried in the side of my people carrier. I was emerging from a junction, the road was clear to my right so I started to pull forward. Fortunately, I was still checking right because this pair were cutting over the cross-hatched zone designed to force vehicles to the right where they can be seen. The road layout was modified precisely because emerging vehicles cannot see around the hedge belonging to a cottage that’s right on the corner to the emerging vehicle’s right. If I had been less cautious, I doubt they would have avoided me as I pulled out. We would never keep tight to the left passing a side turning on the left because it restricts our view, but that’s what this KKK approach implies. And if you think about it, it also restricts our view of traffic coming around the island from the opposite direction, traffic that might be turning across our path.

On another occasion, it was me using the KKK line and I nearly got taken out by a following Kawasaki rider. Having followed me on my KKK line through the previous three roundabouts, for some reason he tried to out-brake me into the fourth. Fortunately for both of us, I was watching my mirrors and was able to give him room, but had I held my line across the island, he would have speared me. So we don’t just need to think about wringing advantage from a roundabout, but to think how we can use our lines to defend our position.

As you can see, I ride with different priorities on roundabouts.

So on Survival: SKILLS two-day course or my one-day Survival: URBAN course?

I look for defensive approaches, not wringing out some marginal ‘advantage’. The Highway Code approach line, keeping left when we intend to turn left, or keeping right when we plan on turning right, is a ‘blocking’ line with respect to following vehicles, and also helps confirm our indicators by sending a clear signal to other road users about where we want to go. The slower, tighter turn may mean less speed around the corner itself, but keeps us away from the likely location of a diesel spill or gravel accumulations, and also makes it easier to change direction – or even stop – if needed. Avoiding a maximum radius line means less speed mid-corner but gets us upright sooner, just like the Survival Skills ‘Point and Squirt’ – that means we’re back on the throttle sooner, and quicker away from the roundabout.

But I have created a variation on the KKK approach – and it works within the Highway Code instructions.

Let’s start with self-defence. I’ll take the usual Survival Skills approach by analysing what can go wrong. Although we tend to worry about traffic coming round the island from our right, that’s not actually the biggest threat because WE choose whether or not to pull out. What we CANNOT control is the driver of a vehicle emerging from our LEFT once we’re on the roundabout. It’s not a problem if we turning left at the first exit, and it’s not too much of an issue when turning right, because we’re over by the island and relatively far away. But the recommended Highway Code approach to going straight on – keeping left all the way around the outside of the island – puts us at considerable risk from drivers pulling out in front of us. There’s are secondary risk that vehicles may try to overtake or cut the corner on the way off the island. To monitor BOTH threats, we’re looking left and over our right shoulder. And finally, if a vehicle does emerge from the left AND we have another alongside on the right, we’ve no escape route – our only option is an emergency stop.

So here’s the Survival Skills approach. Instead of keeping left to go ahead, keep RIGHT. If there’s a single approach lane, keep right-of-centre. If there are two or more lanes, use the right-hand lane. Arriving at the island, the first thing that does is give us a slightly better view to our RIGHT, to search for oncoming vehicles turning across our path. This makes pulling onto the island slightly easier. But the big benefits happen once we’re on the island. Now ALL the danger is to our LEFT whether a vehicle in the adjacent lane, or a driver who might pull out from the exit ahead of us. That means we only have to look one way until we’re off the roundabout. We’re also further away from the exit to the left – the driver will have to move a long way to get into our path. And there’s one final bonus – if a driver DOES pull out and block our own path, we have an escape route – we can simply do a lap of the island. And if nothing goes wrong, and if our route ahead is clear, we can exit off into the left-hand lane as in the second half of the KKK line. All we have sacrificed is the straightest line onto the island, but if all’s clear we can take the straightest line off. And the right-hand lane approach to go straight ahead IS in the Highway Code so there’s a lowered risk of confusion.

Understanding risk THEN ACTIVELY SEEKING TO REDUCE IT is at the heart of the Survival Skills approach to riding. ‘Progress’ comes as a result of having eliminated risk. We should never seek ‘advantage’ in ways that increase risk. And if we can keep things simple at the same time, then so much the better.

Final point. The impression we make on others matters. If drivers see us ignoring the Highway Code lines, it simply reinforces the negative impressions most other road users hold about motorcyclists, however much we might impress our mates with our lines. Doesn’t advanced riding consider ‘the other fellow’ too?

Posted on

33. Eleven tips for riding in the dark

This article was obviously written before the advent of modern LED lighting, and this has a significant consequence. Low (dip) beams don’t ‘throw’ their light any further ahead than old-school halogen beams, but they do project this high (main) beams rather further. That can encourage riders to use that high beam to ride faster — I’ve heard riders claiming just that. But remember, that low beam won’t support that higher speed, particularly given something I’ve noticed — the sharp low beam cut-off from LED headlights. The actual safe reaction distance is often much shorter than main beam reaches, and that’s a serious issue when we meet an oncoming vehicle with its own ultrabright LEDs. At the same moment we’re dazzled, we dip our own beam and our view of the road ahead vanishes. I’ve also observed that whilst high beam illuminates far ahead, peripheral areas are left in comparatively deep shadow; the sort of shadow that may hide a wild animal. My brother has just fitted auxiliary lights to his own bike for precisely this reason.

I also talk about upgrading lights. Rather bizarrely, motorcycles are outside the legislation restricting the use of LED bulbs to vehicles fitted with a headlight designed with an LED bulb as original fitment. So in theory, you’re good to go ahead and fit an LED to replace an older halogen. Just one problem. Many cheap LED bulbs on the market have poor beam patterns, others are actually dimmer than the halogens they replace. My brother has experienced both issues out in the US. And legally, replacement LED bulbs should be e-marked for use on the road. A buddy of mine bought a ‘road-legal’ Osram LED bulb sold as a straight replacement for motorcycle use, but found the bulb was NOT marked. It appears that it’s not road-legal after all.

Eleven tips for riding in the dark

Once a year, the summer evenings draw in and from October through till March we are often riding in the dark, often to and from work. Once we lose the long daylight hours, how can we sharpen up our night riding? Here are eleven ways to deal with the darkness.

Avoid dark visors – whilst useful riding directly into a low sun, half an hour after sunset they are a liability. They flatten shadows, making it more difficult to spot potholes and damp patches. Whilst it is possible to swap to a clear visor, a far better option is an internal sun shade (but keep it clean and scratch-free) or wear shatterproof sunglasses which can be taken off when the sun goes down.

Fit a new visor – this should be obvious; if the visor is at all damaged, fit a new one. It’s always amazing at how those tiny, almost invisible scratches make it harder to see at night. If I need to replace the visor, I nearly always do it for autumn so I have the best possible vision through the winter. Keep it clean and scratch free. A few years back RiDE advised against using furniture polish claiming it “can make the plastic go brittle”, but for the last twenty years I’ve followed the advice of an Arai helmet technician who should know what he’s talking about, cleaning my visor with Mr Sheen. Spray on, cover with a damp tissue, leave for a few minutes, then wipe off and polish with a soft cloth. The film of wax helps rain drops bead up and run off, and protects the visor from grit and bugs, which lift off the surface more easily – the result is less damage to the antiscratch coating. It’s worked so well that the last visor outlived the helmet. But do avoid Rain-X – it is intended for glass and destroys the antiscratch coating and should be avoided.

Check, clean and adjust the lights – check all bulbs actually work – it might sound obvious but as soon as dusk falls, I see plenty of riders with a missing tail light. Ensure the headlamp lens is clean (the inside too if you can reach it) then get the headlamp aim right. Illuminating tree tops won’t help us see but will annoy drivers coming the other way. Too low and we won’t pick up hazards till too late.

Upgrade the lights – a 60/55w halogen bulb is the legal maximum, but check that’s what is actually fitted. Some twin headlight set-ups use low power 35/35w or 45/45w bulbs. Check your alternator output but most bikes over 250cc will cope with a single 60/55w bulb. If you have twin headlights, be a little more careful. If, after fitting, you detect no more light it may be you need to fit a relay – some Hondas need this. An easy upgrade to a standard 60/55w bulb are Xenon bulbs – they are a legal 60/55w but offer higher light output – up to 150% according to the advertising – and having tried them they are definitely brighter. Avoid the ‘bad weather’ blue/yellow bulbs if riding on unlit roads. They look cool, and might help to distinguish a motorcycle in urban traffic – see my Science Of Being Seen project – but despite the claims, they really reduce the light output. And don’t fit aftermarket HID kits or LED headlight bulbs. They are illegal if not a standard fitment, and many screw up the focus of the beam too. If you have 6v electrics M&P sell 25/25w and 35/35w halogen bulbs in a variety of fitments which should be a direct replacement for your standard bulb. They also do halogen fitments for bikes with 12v non-standard fitments.

Dawn and Dusk – riding at dawn and dusk is particularly difficult. Something riders tend to forget is the sun. Near the horizon it can be blinding, and during winter it spends more time there than usual. We can anticipate the problem. Shadows reaching towards us show the sun is ahead of us, so if we’re about to ride into the sun, expect to be dazzled. It would be a good idea to slow down early (rather than hit the brakes when we realise we can’t see anything). When riding into the sun, look for road signs to warn of junctions and other hazards. When riding OUT of the sun, we can see clearly but drivers looking towards us are blinded, particularly at junctions. Be particularly careful if the road surface is wet – the combination of direct and reflected light can be absolutely blinding. Immediately after the sun has set comes the most difficult driving time – twilight. The eye is adjusted to the lighter sky, which makes it difficult to see where the shade is deep. Take extra care.

Riding under street lights – where roads are well-lit, it can be almost as easy to see as in daylight, but where the lighting is not so good, we need to pay attention to areas in deep shadow and to remember that other drivers’ lights will be concealing us so we’re harder to spot. But don’t be tempted to ride on main beam “to be more conspicuous”. The glare from the light obscures the bike behind it.

Riding on unlit roads – this presents another challenge althogther. We’re limited by how far our lights show the road ahead, but don’t forget – it doesn’t matter how good our lights are, as soon as we need to dip the main beam, our long view will be cut short. No matter how good the lights, set your speed to ride well within the ‘distance you can see to be clear’. Look as far ahead along the route as possible – don’t just concentrate on the patch of light but search out road markings and signs to help work out where the road goes. Even in the country, it is very rarely pitch black and we can often get a clue where the road goes from the outlines of hedges and trees – but like these clues in daylight just don’t rely too much on them. Other vehicles lights will often give an idea of where the road heads. A glow ahead will usually be warning of a junction or roundabout. A single light often marks a side road. We can try to position to ‘see and be seen’ but remember that our lights probably won’t stand out from vehicles behind us. There’s some evidence that twin headlights can be mistaken for a car a lot further off. There is no point in blaming the SMIDSY driver, and trying to make eye contact in the dark is pretty pointless. We need to be ready to take evasive action. When other vehicles are approaching, try not to look directly at the beams, but to the left and the nearside edge of the road. Having a good idea of what lies ahead comes in useful. A line of tiny lights appearing over a crest is a truck. Dip lights early because the driver sits high above his own lights. Another biking annoyance is sitting right behind the car ahead, when our higher lights shine straight in the back window of the car and blind the driver. But if there are no reasons not to, use main beam – an astonishing number of riders seem to use just dip! Don’t forget that it also warns drivers ahead and out of direct line of sight of our presence.

Learn about cats-eyes and reflective marker posts – if they’re on the road, use them. Amber cats-eyes mark the right edge of the road, red mark the left edge, green ones are found where you can leave (or others join) via a sliproad. White cats-eyes separate lanes. Similarly, white marker posts will always be found on the right, red on the left. If white cats-eyes in the middle of the road get closer together, we’re approaching a hazard – it’s the same as the hazard line. Learn the difference in markings between lanes and slip roads – that will help you avoid the crash I had years ago when I ran off the A1 late at night in heavy spray. Following the left kerb, I went up a slip road leading to a Little Chef and ended up on my backside sliding over wet grass. Kerbs can and do disappear into side roads, bus stops, drive ways and ditches. Watch out too for awkwardly positioned central islands and width restrictor ‘pinch-points’ installed as traffic calming. They are often poorly marked and hard to spot at night.

Avoid ‘advanced’ positioning – a more ‘middle of the road’ line will give us room for manoeuvre if we don’t read a bend correctly, but avoid the temptation to turn in too early. Nor do we want to be braking hard approaching bends – the headlight beam will dive as well as the forks. Get off the brakes and on the gas before steering, so the machine and beam are levelled out before we have to steer. On left-handers, the beam will tilt to light up the outside of the turn and dazzle on-coming drivers. But the part of the beam illuminating the nearside will move back towards us, which doesn’t help in seeing where the road goes. Although most bikes have a reasonable spread of light allowing us to see round corners to some extent, a few – like my old CX500 – are focussed like laser beams. It made a thirty hairpin alpine pass a ‘never-to-be-forgotten’ experience. To see around corners, dip often has a better spread than main beam. It’ll also work a bit better coming over the brow of a hill than main beam. We can get a bit of extra light on dip by using the headlamp flasher button to illuminate main beam too. But only for a second or two – any longer will melt the fuse! And avoid accelerating until it’s clear where the road goes next. The slow-in, late turn ‘Point and Squirt’ approach works just as well in the dark as it does on blind corners – because effectively a dark corner IS a blind corner.

Dealing with cars on main beam – a common problem is encountering a driver with headlights blazing on high beam. If we dip our own lights promptly when we see the lights of a vehicle coming the other way, it’s usually enough to get the other driver to return the courtesy. If they still forget, a quick flash of main beam usually wakes them up. But in some cases, the problem is a car with badly-adjusted beams or which is heavily loaded.

If we’re not seen, we might be heard – even though it’s technically illegal to use the horn in a built-up area between 11:30pm and 7:00am, if I thought a driver hadn’t seen me, I know what I would do!

If you need some help on getting used to riding in the dark, why not check out the Survival Skills ‘Basics’ course? We start just before it gets dark, ride through the twilight and into full darkness to see how our perception of the road changes and have a chance to employ the strategies in this article.

Posted on

32. When the Two Second Rule is not enough

Were I to start this article again (and I may at some point do that), the following observations would call for some revision:

  1. Two Second Rule: The explanation is accurate as a minimum safe distance, but it’s worth noting explicitly that it assumes a fully alert rider on a dry surface, nor does it scale well at speeds over 45 mph – that needs to be crystal-clear.

  2. Stopping distance calculations: The math is correct but actual deceleration is rarely as high as 0.9G for most street riders. 0.6–0.7G is more realistic, as I noted later. Also, poor surface conditions can reduce effective deceleration to 0.3–0.5G and whilst modern ABS helps a rider make the most of available grip, they cannot compensate for poor spacing or delayed reaction, or – and this is crucial – a rider who is not confident / competent to engage the ABS in an emergency.

  3. Reaction times: Updating from 0.5–1 second to 0.7–1.5 seconds for typical riders (and 2–3 seconds for surprise events) is consistent with modern human factors research.

  4. Motorcycle vs. car braking: while a sportbike may match braking distances achieved by cars, that’s under ideal conditions and the skill required to consistently achieve this is significant, and errors are common in real-world scenarios.

A very useful comment was added to a previous version of this particular item; “Whilst the ‘dead stop in the road’ scenario would initially seem to be somewhat rare, in actuality it is very common. Of course, what I am referring to the moment a vehicle turns across our path. I realize that the two-second rule has no bearing on the above situations. Just thought I’d point out that one shouldn’t get so involved with counting seconds that they don’t see the car about to transform itself into that dreaded ‘brick wall'”.

When the Two Second Rule is not enough

The original version of this particular article almost dates to the earliest days of the internet, because I wrote it following a discussion on the Go Ride Forum on CompuServe – that should serve to date it accurately enough. But well over twenty years later, whenever I’m out driving a car, running training courses or simply watching other riders, one recurring error is following the vehicle ahead far too close. And whilst motorcyclists worry about being tailgated themselves, a surprising number of collisions happen when it’s the rider running into the back of the vehicle ahead. It seems some rider errors never change.

The Highway Code says sensibly enough that we “should ride at a speed that allows us to stop in the distance we can see to be clear, and at a distance that will allow us to stop if the vehicle in front stops suddenly”. It then goes onto quote some following distances and braking distances.

The trouble is that it doesn’t really matter whether those distances are in feet, metres or car lengths, our biggest problem is trying to visualise these distances. It’s tough to think just how far 75 feet or 23 metres or 6 car lengths at a standstill, let alone on the move at 30 mph. This is clear when performing demonstration emergency stops. I’ll often get the trainee to make where they THINK I’ll stop if I hit the brakes at 30 mph. That usually puts them on the back foot, and it’s rare to find anyone who moves confidently to mark their chosen spot.

Not uncommonly, I have to remind them of the 23 metre stopping distance. And then they often stand about half that distance away.

And that may be a clue as to why riders follow too close on the road. If we can’t judge a short distance like 23 metres to within 50% at a standstill, what chance to they have on the road? (The way I judge it is that it’s just over the length of a cricket pitch.

But there’s a solution, also in the Highway Code. It’s the Two Second Rule. We watch the vehicle in front as it passes a fixed object (a lamppost, a tree, a shadow or even a seam in the road) and start talking: “only a fool breaks the Two Second Rule”. In theory, that takes about two seconds to say, so if we have passed this point before we’ve finished talking, we’re too close. If we get it all out without gabbling, we’re far enough back. And in the wet, we double the Two Second Rule to four seconds.

So does it work? Whilst it’s likely to be adequate around town, there’s also some bad news that neither the Highway Code nor any of the other manuals or riding tips has made clear.

the Two Second Rule is not a target – it’s a MINIMUM safe distance and should be extended at all times whenever traffic conditions allow

the stopping distances are based on a rider braking AS SOON AS the vehicle ahead slows – even an alert rider can be caught by SURPRISE! and that is well-known to delay our response

stopping distance does not increase in a straight line with speed – if we double our speed, we QUADRUPLE stopping distance

It’s the last point I want to focus on because it means there is a cross-over point beyond which we cannot stop even with a two second gap. My old buddy Steve Kelly got his trusty calculator out and we fed some data in. We travel 13 metres or 44 feet each sec at 30mph. Stopping (reaction and braking) distance at 30mph is quoted in the Highway Code as 23 metres or 75 feet. A modern motorcycle on decent tyres can brake much harder than the Highway Code allows. So we made two initial assumptions:

  1. an alert rider can react in around 0.5 second

  2. braking hard, a rider can achieve around 0.9G of braking force (more on that in a moment)

And we ignored wind resistance, poor road surfaces and all rolling friction. So here are the braking figures:

At 15mph

In 2 seconds at constant speed you will travel 44.0ft
Your stopping and reaction distance is 19.4ft
Your margin for error is 24.6ft
Your impact speed is n/a

At 30 mph

In 2 seconds at constant speed you will travel 88.0ft
Your stopping and reaction distance is 55.4ft
Your margin for error is 32.6ft
Your impact speed is n/a

At 45 mph

In 2 seconds at constant speed you will travel 132.0ft
Your stopping and reaction distance is 108.0ft
Your margin for error is 23.8ft
Your impact speed is n/a

At 60 mph

  • In 2 seconds at constant speed you will travel 176ft

  • Your stopping and reaction distance is 178ft

  • Your margin for error is -2.0ft

  • Your impact speed is 0.6mph

At 75mph

  • In 2 seconds at constant speed you will travel 220ft

  • Your stopping and reaction distance is 264ft

  • Your margin for error is -43.9ft

  • Your impact speed is 12.5mph

At 90mph

  • In 2 seconds at constant speed you will travel 264ft

  • Your stopping and reaction distance is 367ft

  • Your margin for error is -103ft

  • Your impact speed is 25.2mph

At 105mph

  • In 2 seconds at constant speed you will travel 308ft

  • Your stopping and reaction distance is 486ft

  • Your margin for error is -178ft

  • Your impact speed is 38.5mph

I think you can see what is happening – at 60mph, maintaining a 2 second gap, you will crash at walking pace even if you are wide awake and brake as quickly as possible. At 90 (not an unusual motorway speed, you will have a serious accident with a big impact. (And at 150mph, you would hit the brickwall at a frightening and almost certainly fatal 80.2mph!)

What if we’re caught by SURPRISE! and our reactions are a bit slow? If we double the reaction time to a not-unlikely one second (more on that in a moment too), here are the figures.

At 15mph

  • In 2 seconds at constant speed you will travel 44.0ft

  • Your stopping and reaction distance is 30.4ft

  • Your margin for error is 13.6ft

  • Your impact speed is n/a

At 30 mph

  • In 2 seconds at constant speed you will travel 88.0ft

  • Your stopping and reaction distance is 77.4ft

  • Your margin for error is 10.6ft

  • Your impact speed is n/a

At 45 mph

  • In 2 seconds at constant speed you will travel 132.0ft

  • Your stopping and reaction distance is 141.0ft

  • Your margin for error is -9.2ft

  • Your impact speed is 2.9mph

At 60 mph

  • In 2 seconds at constant speed you will travel 176ft

  • Your stopping and reaction distance is 222ft

  • Your margin for error is -45.7ft

  • Your impact speed is 12.4mph

At 75mph

  • In 2 seconds at constant speed you will travel 220ft

  • Your stopping and reaction distance is 319ft

  • Your margin for error is -98.9ft

  • Your impact speed is 23.3mph

At 90mph

  • In 2 seconds at constant speed you will travel 264ft

  • Your stopping and reaction distance is 367ft

  • Your margin for error is -169ft

  • Your impact speed is 35.1mph

At 105mph

  • In 2 seconds at constant speed you will travel 308ft

  • Your stopping and reaction distance is 563ft

  • Your margin for error is -255ft

  • Your impact speed is 47.6mph

The important point is that now the crossover point is now 45mph.

Not surprisingly some objections were raised during discussions.

“Rider over-reaction to a perceived emergency is a greater hazard in many situations than the actual emergency itself”. I can’t argue with this having done that myself and fallen off on several occasions, and it’s why ABS is compulsory on new bikes in the EU.

“It is well known that a modern motorcycle with good tyres can stop from 60 mph in under 110 feet; this is comparable to only a few automobiles such as Porsche, Corvette, Ferrari, etc. In the vast majority of situations where maximum braking is needed, the bike will be able to come to an absolute stop, well before the standard car or truck.” A biking myth. It may just possibly have been true in the past, but with four wheels on the ground and ABS to boot (literally), I’m far from convinced that even a well-handled bike will out-stop a car. Few riders practice emergency stops and even with ABS too, braking a motorcycle at the absolute limit requires a degree of skill and machine control that a car driver simply doesn’t need.

All this, of course, assumes good traction. Our friend stated: “When the surface is less than optimal, it affects other vehicles as well. If the rider is a capable bike-handler, he/she should still be able to outbrake and/or steer past a standard car or truck, as the mass of the vehicle determines its kinetic energy when speed is equal”.

“I don’t think the Two Second Rule results in such dire consequences as the calculations imply. One is assuming a fixed object towards which one is braking. In reality, emergency braking is initiated in response to a vehicle ahead, also braking. That vehicle must decelerate from its velocity just as you do, so the Two Second Rule simply provides adequate reaction time to initiate your braking in response to the emergency ahead.” It’s another fine theory that as speeds rise and traffic spreads out, we can see and react to vehicles braking further ahead, but theory isn’t always right. I can think of three incidents in front of me:

  1. on a motorway, the car ahead of me drifted to the right, dipped its right front wheel in the gravel drain at the edge of the outside lane and was swung straight into the Armco barrier in the centre of the motorway. It immediately rolled over a couple of times and slid to a halt on the roof in front of me. That stopped pretty quick

  2. my brother was driving with me in the passenger seat when the car in front of us colliding head-on with a vehicle coming the opposite way that had drifted into our lane. That blocked the road ahead as the cars both stopped almost instantly.

  3. I was following a car when its offside suspension collapsed, and it spun 180 degrees and stopped dead in the road facing me

THESE are the situations the Two Second Rule is designed to rescue us from.

And here’s something else to think about. A study of emergency braking revealed that instead of our assumed 0.9G of deceleration, a typical rider is more likely to generate 0.6G. I’ve haven’t repeated the calculations but I’m sure you realise that wil add SIGNIFICANTLY to all the stopping distances.

We also originally banked on a reaction time of an alert rider of 0.5 of a second and double that for a rider caught by surprise. In fact, 0.5s is right at the top limit for reaction time. A more typical figure is around 0.7 sec for an alert driver. But even our 1s reaction time turns out to be much to optimistic in a real emergency. When we’re taken by SURPRISE! our reaction time can become even longer. Two, even three seconds is common. It’s almost certainly this delayed response that explains why many urban riders don’t avoid junction collisions even when the accident investigation says they should. It wasn’t that they were speeding (the more usual conclusion) but that they simply failed to react to the emergency because they were taken by SURPRISE!

As I’ve said before when discussing my advanced motorcycle training courses, that brings me to the need to PLAN for things to GO WRONG. We must be pragmatic if we are to have genuine Survival Skills.

So if you’ve religiously adhered to the Two Second Rule till now, you may be a bit concerned to find it doesn’t work as we go faster. Even though I knew stopping distances quadruple as speed doubles, I was a bit startled to discover the crossover point was so low. As Steve said: “I’ll think about this a lot more when I’m next travelling along a motorway”.

Thanks to Steve Kelly for doing the mathematics.

Posted on

31. Posture – the key to smoother riding

Good posture remains the foundation of smooth, controlled riding — even with the increasingly-sophisticated electronics appearing on modern machines. Whilst electronics can help manage the bike, that does not replace the rider’s requirement to control the machine dynamically. In addition, posture affects vision and scanning: a stable, flexible upper body allows the head and eyes to move freely, enabling riders to gather information beyond the immediate front tyre, anticipate hazards, and react smoothly. Adjustable bars, pegs, and seats on some bikes allow do allow riders to fine-tune their riding position, balancing stability, feedback, and comfort but whether practicing slow-speed manoeuvres or riding the bike on the road, the principles of the Brace Position remain as relevant today as they ever were.

Posture – the key to smoother riding

In some ways, this article should have been number one, because our posture is hugely important to good control. Without good posture, so many riding tasks become tougher than they need to be, from slow control to emergency stops to cornering at speed. However, it doesn’t mean that every article written about posture is correct. For example, had anyone read this particular article on a website covering riding skills (the article seems to have disappeared recently) they might be forgiven for thinking they were doing it all wrong.

“Body Position – as many people will realise as they gain confidence and move around on the bike, the way you sit on your bike has a direct affect on the way the bike handles. Unfortunately many people never learn the correct way to sit. Sit close to the tank with your “groin” pressed against it! Lean forward and lie across the tank with your head behind the screen. Do not lean on the tank but allow your stomach muscles to support you so that if you take your hands off the bars you are still in the same position. You should try this when stationary to get a feel for it – just let go of the bars and let your stomach muscles do the work.”

Eh? How does anyone ‘sit close to the tank’ and ‘lie across the tank with your head behind the screen’ at the same time?

The only explanation I could come up with was that the writer – who’d apparently picked up this advice on a training course – had got thorougly confused. I would advice riders to sit forward on the seat (although not so close that “your groin is pressed against it” for improved slow control on tight turns. And getting tucked in behind the screen is something I’d do riding down a straight on the track. But both together? One buddy tried it on a Goldwing and pointed out:

“I could barely see over the dash, my elbows were behind my back and my wrists twisted at an awkward angle.”

So there’s a third issue – bikes and their riders aren’t all the same size and shape.

In short it was one of the worst pieces I’ve seen for a long time, and it’s no great loss that it’s vanished from the virtual library of bad advice.

About the only thing I agreed on is that posture IS important, so let’s try to understand how. Above anything else, we need to find a position that’s both stable and comfortable, that allows us to operate all the controls and see where we are going.

So let’s start with stability. We need to find a position where our legs support the upper body. Why is that, you might be wondering? It’s our arms and hands that do most of the work in controlling the bike.

The reason is that we need to be in what I call the ‘Brace Position’ to make effective inputs, whether we’re braking, steering or accelerating. And we need this Brace Position because our inputs make the motorcycle change speed and direction beneath us. Unless we’re connected to the bike, the bike may move without us when we want to stay connected – it’s not impossible to fall off the back of a bike when accelerating too rapidly. And conversely, there are time we want to move independently of the machine and unless we are braced effectively, it’s hard to do so – the technique of counterweighting on slow turns relies on us being able to shift our bodyweight one way as the bike leans the other. In particular, the brace position locks us in place to counter-steer effectively.

So the Brace Position starts at the footpegs. There’s always a debate about whether to ride with the arch of the foot (which means we can use the foot controls without moving them) or the ball of the foot (which lets us take more weight via our legs) on the pegs, but we’ll leave that to one side for the moment. Conventional footpegs are more or less under the hips precisely so we can take some of our weight through them – and that means we are not taking all our weight through our backside, although on a bike with forward foot controls that’s not possible.

But even on a Harley, so long as there is a there is tank over the engine – or a dummy tank like Honda’s NC series – there is another important connection point with the machine – our knees. Even without conventional footpegs, the knees provide the lower body stability that we’ll need in a moment. It’s also useful to lock the knees against the tank on a bumpy surface – that allows us to use our thighs as ‘active suspension’. Rather like a jockey’s legs working in harmony with a galloping horse, the forks and rear shock can move beneath us in partial isolation over big irregularities such as speed bumps, keeping the machine a little more stable as well as giving us a smoother ride on top.

Once our knees are gripping the tank, we can brace the muscles in our lower back, NOT the stomach muscles as that article suggested – if they are tightened, it’s probably a sign we’re tense. With the lower back stiffened, we can keep the upper half of the torso flexible. This is vital because it ensures we can maintain looseness in our shoulders, elbows and wrists. This is the third key element of the Brace Position, because it prevents us leaning on the bars because they are set low – as on a sports bike – or hanging on to them if they are more upright.

This need to avoid leaning on or hanging onto the handlebars and staying loose is not intuitive at all.

Leaning on the handlebars creates problems steering at speed – one arm MUST move forward and the other MUST move backwards if the bars are to turn, and the bars MUST turn if we’re to steer. Many sportsbike riders are amazed at how nimble their ‘slow-steering’ machines suddenly become when they start using the Brace Position on corners. Leaning on the bars also kills fine control stone dead on slow control too.

But leaning on the bars or hanging on too hard also tends to cause wobbles in a straight line. Common sense would suggest that we would need to actively point the bike in a straight line all the times by constantly correcting the steering. In fact, once rolling a motorcycle has dynamic balance – mass always wants to move in a straight line unless some force is applied to make it change direction and this applies to a motorcycle too. Additionally, the steering is designed to be self-centering and to correct itself if deflected by a bump. But riders detect wobbles or steering instability and believe that must hold on ever-tighter. In fact, it’s the rider’s own body movements, swaying around on the bike because they are not braced, which get fed into the bars and create the problem in the first place. When I talk about this issue on my Survival Skills advanced rider training course, I often get a blank or even disbelieving looks, which usually vanish when I perform a hands-off riding demo.

We also need to keep the elbows bent – here’s why:

a bent elbow acts as a shock absorber (just like bent knees) and allows the steering to shake. The moment we 'lock' the steering by leaning on the bars, we feed any bumps and shakes the bike generates straight back into the steering making matters ten times worse

a bent elbow allows us to steer using the leverage from the arms. If our elbows are locked, we are steering from the shoulders and back which is crude and tiring

Keeping elbows flexible is a problem with sports bike riders who lean on the bars with locked elbows, but in contrast, we can often spot novice riders on small bikes who are virtually sitting on the pillion seat. With their arms stretched straight out in front of them, the end result is similar – it’s difficult to turn the bars. Don’t forget that the wrists also need to be loose.

If we don’t have some ‘give’ in our arms, we also lose feedback from the front tyre under braking or when steering on a slippery surface. It’s a loose connection from shoulders to the bars that allows fine control over the steering. My tip to trainees is to remember the bars work like the tiller of a boat – they are for steering and not for hanging on to.

Here’s another poor piece of advice which you have possibly heard:

“Keep your forearms level with the ground”.

The rationale is that it puts the rider in the most ergonomically efficient position to turn the handlebars by moving them forwards and backwards. Think about that for a moment. The effort needed to achieve a level forearm depends on the height of the bars in relationship to our elbows. The taller the rider and the lower the bars, the more that rider will have to lean forward in a racing crouch to achieve that ‘flat arm’ shape, and that in turn will push the rider’s backside rearwards and change the position of the knees. It’s actually the need to position our knees and keep the upper half of the body flexible that pretty much fixes our elbow angle. The precise angle of the forearms is not so important as the fact our elbows ARE bent.

Of course, riders are all different sizes and shapes so there’s rarely going to be a perfect position for everyone on a single machine, but most bikes do have an envelope within which there is room to move around and find the position that suits each of us. Whilst many machines make it fairly obvious roughly where we should sit by means of cutouts on the tank and seat contours or humps, our precise position will depend on how we fit the machine. Unfortunately, few have any adjustability built-in, so it’s our bodies that have to adjust.

Do we ever change the ideal Brace Position? I’ll certainly adopt it for the short periods where I prioritise control, but at other times I’ll tend to prioritise comfort – that could be more of a crouched position for riding into a headwind on a motorways where my main aim is not pin-point control but minimizing fatigue.

Remember, it’s what we want to achieve that matters so it’s important not to look for any sort of ‘fixed in stone’ position but instead to understand why locking on with the knees to keep shoulders, elbows and wrists loose is important when fine work is needed. Once we understand that, we can usually find a working compromise which maximises comfort AND control.

Posted on

30. The Limit (or Vanishing) Point – is it enough?

Years after I wrote this, and even now after I updated it, I still think that the belief that the Limit Point is of prime importance when setting our speed in corners is massively overstated. What I would add now is that there is a distinction between the static Limit Point — where road edges converge at any particular instant — and the dynamic Limit Point — how is our sense of how this point is moving back and forth as our bike moves along the road. And — in my opinion at least — it should never be the sole determinant of speed into a corner. It’s often hard to detect road irregularities on fast sweeping bends until we’re much closer, the gaps in hedges where other vehicles may appear frequently only ‘uncloak’ well after the Limit Point is reached, and there’s no guarantee that any hazard that reveals itself via the forward movement of the Limit Point is actually stationary — if it’s moving towards us, we could easily run out of braking distance. To me, these are blindly obvious limitations. Yet decades after I first wrote about them, they are rarely covered in any discussion of the Limit Point. Treat is as one tool among many; a guide to road direction and potential speed adjustments, rather than a definitive target for acceleration, braking or — most crucially of all — stopping! For riders of all levels, it’s integrating “what we can see” with “what we can’t see” and being ready to deal with the latter, by thinking well beyond the Limit Point that is paramount to safe cornering.

The Limit (or Vanishing) Point – is it enough?

As soon as we take a look at post-test motorcycle training, one of the concepts we’re likely to come across is something called the Limit Point or the Vanishing Point (or Convergence Point or Visual Point – call it what you like, it’s the same thing). It gets particular focus in UK-based post-test training because it appears in the police handbook ‘Motorcycle Roadcraft’. And because the police manual discusses it, it’s a feature of the IAM’s own RoadSmart ‘Advanced Rider Course’ and in the training delivered by RoSPA instructors and virtually anyone else who bases their training on UK police practice. Not surprisingly, it also regularly pops up on advanced riding videos and guides in magazines and on the internet. It’s also been adopted abroad. So just how useful is it? And just how do we set our speed for a bend? Is it ONLY based on ‘limit point analysis’?

Because the Limit Point has been explained so many times and done to a crispy turn on the internet, I left it the topic alone for many years – why add another article to an already-sizeable pile that say much the same?

So what changed my mind?

Have a read of this. It’s a post made on the bike forum I used to moderate by another advanced instructor with impressive ex-police credentials:

“The main thing you have to learn about safe riding is the visual point or vanishing point. I teach this to clients all the time. Some tell me in detail how or what they look at at and when I take them out on the road it seems no one understands it too well. All police riding is based on this because if you know how to use it, it gives you everything you want. Position on the road, speed on the approach to any bend, how fast you can enter the bend, how much power to apply to the throttle, where to move the bike from the corner for the next position. In my experience it is not the technique that is hard but the believing what you see and having confidence to use it anywhere in the world. It is very exciting once you know how it works.”

The writer continued by explaining the ‘stop in the distance we can see to be clear’ rule, and explained that as the limit point is as far as we can see, that’s where we need to be able to stop.

“Everything you want”?

Really? Not in my book it doesn’t.

Firstly, it’s assuming that any obstacle in our lane revealed by the receding Limit Point will be stationary. Of course there’s no guarantee that’s the case as any biker who has ever misjudged an overtake approaching a corner and gone into it on the wrong side of the road will know. The narrower the road and the tighter the corner, the more likely we are to encounter a vehicle crossing into our lane, and in the worst case, driving towards us in it. It’s important that we add the extra words that are actually clearly stated within ‘Roadcraft’ – and that is that we must actually be able to “stop WELL WITHIN in the distance we can EXPECT TO REMAIN clear”. That’s a significant difference.

Secondly – and this is not mentioned explicitly in ‘Roadcraft’ – there’s always the possibility of an oncoming car turning across our path. Now, if we’re rounding a left-hander, we’ll see that car appear a few moments before we can see the junction it’s aiming for on the inside of the corner – our line of sight always unveils the outside of the bend before we see the corresponding point on the inside of the corner. What that should tell us is that we won’t know if there’s an emerging car on the inside of the bend, even though our formal Limit Point is already beyond it. The reverse applies on a right-hander. We’ll see the junction to the inside of the bend, but the oncoming vehicle about to cross our path into it will be out of sight. Just as ‘Roadcraft’ says – without explaining why – we MUST be able to stop well before we reach the Limit Point.

Here’s a third issue that isn’t mentioned either. Let me introduce you to what are sometimes called ‘Surprise Horizons’. A Surprise Horizon is any point which lies between us and the Limit Point, from which another vehicle (or cyclist, pedestrian or even an animal) MIGHT EMERGE and BLOCK OUR PATH. And that means we actually need to do is be able to STOP at that point, NOT at the Limit Point. And that is a very different concept. The term Surprise Horizon comes from a book called ‘Mind Driving’ by Stephen Haley, a car trainer.
Even though we might have a clear view of the Limit Point itself, a Surprise Horizon can lurk unseen in any blind area. Even on a near-straight road, a slight kink in the hedge, the narrow gap between two buildings, an opening between parked cars, or a blind crest all have the potential to conceal anything from a tractor tugging a trailer to a sheep.

So what’s my conclusion? That used sensibly it works well with other observation links but that it should be considered just one tool in your box of tricks to read corners, not the “be all and end all” of your cornering technique.

Anyway, I posted something to this effect on the forum and two wags read it and replied…

“So isn’t the “Vanishing point” simply the farthest you can see down the road? Or is that too simple?”

“Way, Way too simple. This is technical stuff we’re talking about here. The vanishing point is the point where the left and right verges appear to converge, or in other words, the farthest you can see down the road. Does that make it clear?”

I had to laugh… sometimes a simple, useful technique that should be obvious and straightforward can be elevated to semi-mystical status!

The Surprise Horizon concept is one that really should be added to ‘Roadcraft’ and to any explanation of how to apply the Limit point concept to judge speed. If we simply see the road as guaranteed to stay empty between ourselves and the Limit Point, we really are risking a nasty SURPRISE! And remember…

No Surprise? No Accident!

Posted on

29. Avoiding diesel and other slippery spills

Unusually this is an area where things genuinely have improved for motorcyclists. Improvements in commercial vehicle design, tighter fleet maintenance standards, and just possibly a faster clean-up of reported spills mean that streaks of diesel on roundabouts and bends are now far less common than they were in my courier days, even in the early part of my instructing career. Police collision data has long suggested that fuel spills are blamed for more crashes than they actually cause, and reduced exposure has only reinforced that trend. However, this does not mean slippery contaminants have disappeared altogether. We still need the same level of anticipation, observation, and margin — if anything, newer riders are likely to be less aware of the issue than those of us with a long backstory of dodging diesel. And it’s always worth remembering that ANY liquid will have less traction that the dry or uncontaminated tarmac.

Avoiding diesel and other slippery spills

My first introduction to the slippery nature of fuels spilled on the road came soon after I’d taken my 125 up to London. I stopped at a pedestrian crossing, three bikes came flying past me, turned right and promptly formation-crashed. As I pulled away, the 125 span the back wheel. Even that early on in my riding career I knew that wasn’t quite right and took the corner rather more slowly than the other bikes. A truck was parked halfway up the hill with a split tank and some fireman throwing bags of sand around it. The slick reached right down the hill to where the bikes had crashed. That was a while ago, and on purely observational evidence, it seems to me that fuel spills are much less common than when I was a courier. Moreover, evidence from police accident investigations suggests that despite the popular belief that oil and diesel cause bike crashes, the real crash numbers are low. That might be why in a long discussion on the problems of diesel on one of my favourite forums most of the correspondents had mates “who have crashed on diesel”, yet surprisingly few actually put up their hands and said “I’ve crashed on it myself”.

Nevertheless, it’s as well to be on the alert. As with all hazards, the first thing to consider is where we might find it, secondly how to spot it, and thirdly and to have some idea of what to do if we do spot ANY oil, diesel or petrol spill – they are ALL slippery.

Where might we find diesel and petrol (it’s slippery too) spilled on the road? The obvious answer is where vans, trucks and buses start with full tanks. And that means ports, industrial estates and bus depots, particularly in the morning. Leaving aside the random spills from a split tank, or from the van that had taken off its sump on high kerb round a traffic-calming ‘pinch point’ (it didn’t get far but left quite a slick for half a mile), keep an eye open where vehicles change direction – corners, junctions and particularly roundabouts are likely problem areas.

Combine a roundabout with exits marked INDUSTRIAL ESTATE and we should be on alert. Back when I was a trainer in Lydd, my homeward route took me round the Ashford ring road, which has a dozen industrial estates round it. Just as I was slowing for a right turn at one of the roundabouts, a guy on an R1 flew past signalling right as well. Knee out, he vanished around the back of the island but never reappeared. Going round rather more cautiously, I avoided the big streak of diesel and stopped to lend a hand. Rider unhurt but bike rather sad, having flipped over after sliding into the kerb. I left him arranging a van ride home. If we’re apply the ‘stop in the distance we can see to be clear’ rule, don’t forget it applies to road surface too.

Another good rule-of-thumb is that diesel spotted on one corner will probably reappear on the next. Another courier followed me carefully round one left-hander leading out of one London square as we both avoided the diesel. He overtook me, and promptly crashed on the left-hander leading into the next square just few hundred metres further on. As I stopped to help him untangle the bike from the railings, he said: “I didn’t expect diesel on that bend too”.

Err, right. So where did you expect it?

Most spills either come from overflows on over-filled tanks (much rarer now) or when drivers forget to put the filler cap on. Don’t laugh – I forgot to put the bike filler cap on once, because the tank bag covered it. A lapful of fuel reminded me, but the driver won’t know. The fuel is likely to be be spilled outwards so look for it on the outside of the lane – near the centre line on a left-hander or the kerb on a right-hander. But don’t forget a oncoming vehicle could slosh it our side of the centre line on a right-hander too.

Watching the surface is one reason for not trailing a vehicle ahead too close. If we see temporary slippery road signs or even police SLOW triangles, take care – it could be a spillage or even accident ahead, and there may well be a slippery cocktail of detergent, diesel, engine oil and antifreeze on the road.

See if you can spot the spill. In the rain, oil produces the familiar rainbow effect. It looks scary because the rain washes the oil right over the road, but in fact the rainbow effect is produced by a layer just one molecule thick. A single drop of oil can produce a big circular rainbow patch. It’s slippery but not lethal – the tyres will cut down to the surface. But if we see the rainbow right across the road, then it’s a bigger spill. Try to see which way the rainbow’s being washed – the source is probably in the other direction and that’s the area to keep clear of.

Unfortunately, in the dry, there’s no warning rainbow. The best advice I can give you is that fresh oil and diesel is very wet-looking and very shiny. It’s looks like ‘very wet water’ for want of a better description. A big diesel spill in the dry can often be smelled. So use your nose. A dulled black streak is almost certainly an old spill, and unlikely to be particularly slippery. But it’s worth knowing that if it rains, old spills can be ‘reactivated’, particularly by a short shower after a long dry spell.

Don’t forget petrol can also be spilled. It’s just as slippery as diesel but harder to see – it looks like water. Whenever possible, keep clear of any unusual wet-looking patches.

Interestingly, in that forum discussion, there was little useful advice, beyond declarations that “it’ll will have you off if you hit it” statements.

Ideally, we do want to stay off it if possible. It’s just a matter of having the speed and lean angle in hand to change line and direction. But sometimes we simply have cross a spill. It’s straightforward enough if we can avoid leaning and braking (the usual instinct) as we cross it, and instead keep the bike as upright as possible. For that reason if I find a spill mid-corner, I tend to steer INSIDE it, even if that means sacrificing my view round the bend. Why? I may have to cross it. If I’m on the inside, I can pick the machine up and cross it upright, before leaning over again back on clean tarmac. But if I’m on the outside and need to cross it, I actually need to increase my lean angle. Not a good plan. And don’t forget that the tyres will take a moment to clean off – don’t bang the bike straight over on its side, but ease it over.

Look ahead, think ahead, plan ahead, and oil and diesel should be no more than a minor – if potentially dangerous – irritant.

Posted on

28. “Don’t search for safety, identify risky — then avoid it”

I’ve actually retitled this particular article since it reinforces the central idea — that riders should stop chasing an abstract notion of “safety” and instead understand “risk in context” — because It reinforces personal responsibility and judgement, aligns with how riders actually make decisions — moment by moment, under imperfect information, and most importantly it avoids the false promise implied by “safety”. Safety is defined as absence of risk and there’s no such thing on the road. Understanding risk, rather than searching for an ill-defined notion of “safety”, remains the key to surviving real-world riding.

“Don’t search for safety, identify risky — then avoid it”

When delivering my Survival Skills advanced motorcycle riding courses, one of the concepts I ensure that is covered in depth is risk, and its relationship to safety. Why focus on risk when it’s so much more usual to hear motorcycle training and road safety experts talk about ‘safety’? There’s a good reason for this. It’s because safety is defined as the ‘absence of risk’. So given that it is impossible to ride without risk, it’s only by understanding risk that we can begin to appreciate whether particular manoeuvres are actually relatively low or relatively high risk. Once we know that, then it’s possible to begin to manage risk and thus attempt to make our riding as safe as possible.

So let’s start by define what we mean by ‘risk’ a bit more clearly? We can say something like:

‘Risk = the chance something might happen X the impact on us when it happens’

It may be a simple explanation but it makes it easier to understand how a hazard might affect us. For example, you’d probably agree that most metal access covers are potentially slippery. But does that mean they ALWAYS pose a risk?

Follow some riders and you’d be forgiven for thinking they’d been treated with teflon as they weave left and right to avoid them in the dry, but if the metal surface is relatively small and flush with the surface, and we are neither cornering, braking or accelerating, then what’s the problem? We can ride over them with no fear of a loss of grip, and we can focus on other issues, such as taking a line that avoids getting close to oncoming vehicles. Even when wet, a small access cover is unlikely to result in anything more serious than a slight twitch even when leaned over. Running over it might be a better decision than shaving past an HGV coming the other way. But what if the metal plate is big? What if it’s just where we’re planning to hit the brakes, to avoid an emerging car? What if we’re carrying serious lean through a corner? And it’s wet too? Now we have a more serious problem.

What I’m getting at is we need to anticipate whether the hazard poses a threat in the context in which we are about to meet it.

One useful place to develop an understanding of risk is to examine the ‘killed and seriously injured’ statistics. If you do that, you’ll discover there are three common crashes:

  • at junctions

  • on corners

  • during overtakes

Then we can drill down further to find out more about the risks of each location.

For example, if we look at crashes at or near junctions involving motorcycles, we find that in an URBAN environment most collisions happen when another vehicle pulls out from a side road, and turns across the motorcycle’s path. Although these incidents are very common (so the risk of a COLLISION is high), the fatality rate is low UNLESS the rider is exceeding the speed limit – then the fatality rate sky-rockets.

But there’s a second collision to consider – when an oncoming vehicle turns right turns across the rider’s path. The risk OF the collision is low (there aren’t very many) but the risk FROM the crash is high (it’s a much bigger impact and far more likely to be fatal).

But once out of town, where speeds are higher, both types of collision are likely to have serious consequences, simply because the speeds are higher.

And in the same way we can find other high-risk activities. If we crash on a corner, we’re more likely to survive if we fall off on a right-hander (in the UK), but on a left-hander we cross the centre line and the resulting collision is often fatal. Overtaking is almost certainly the most dangerous of all biking activities, because there is so much that can go wrong. Not too many years ago, a highly qualified motorcycle instructor told me that “done right, overtaking is perfectly safe”. Hopefully, you read that and asked yourself “is that really true?”. The answer, of course, is that however well-planned and executed, NO overtake can ever be ‘perfectly safe’. We can try to manage the risks as best we can, but there is one element in an overtake over which we have no control whatsoever…

…and that’s the other humans in the mix. We can be trying to do everything ‘right’ and the unpredictable actions of another human can still put us at risk.

So to sum up… to ASSESS risk, we must recognise the potential for any particular activity to go wrong. To MANAGE risk, we have to know our options, and whether we have alternatives open to us. In the case of an overtake, I could simply not attempt it – that would manage the risk pretty effectively. And when deciding whether or not I need to ride over that manhole cover mid-corner, there’s another solution – I could SLOW DOWN! It’s easier to recover from a slide when we’re more upright.

It’s amazing how long it takes riders to actually remember that slowing down is nearly always an effective risk management option.

Posted on

27. Cornering Problems 4 – Set up the brakes to stay out of corner trouble

Written originally before the widespread adoption of ABS and the current enthusiasm for trail braking, this piece has arguably become more relevant rather than less. Modern braking systems reduce the consequences of error, but they do not eliminate the need for judgement, preparation, or margin. In fact, on increasingly unpredictable road surfaces, relying on late or reactive braking strategies leaves the rider more exposed, not less. “In too fast” remains a dominant failure mode and has turned up in multiple recent crash studies, UK DfT KSI summaries, and police collision reconstructions. The bike is usually capable but the rider’s speed management is the failure point. Nothing in rider aids has meaningfully changed that. It’s still a knowledge gap vs skills gap issue. Braking studies have shown that most riders don’t think to brake for corners until too late.

Unfortunately, the false binary “good riders don’t brake” versus “bad riders use brakes” thinking is still present, even if it far less common than when I penned this piece. Brake preloading as an anti-surprise strategy aligns extremely closely with modern human-factors research on startle response and task switching. The principles discussed here are not about rejecting modern technology, but about using it as a safety net rather than a primary plan — and about preventing the ‘in too fast’ error before electronics are ever asked to intervene.

Cornering Problems 4 – Set up the brakes to stay out of corner trouble

Even in the years that I’ve been an advanced rider coach is the rider, I’ve seen a lot of change to motorcycle design and the technology that comes with them, and the UK’s training and testing regime has changed a lot too. Now, when accident studies look at crashes result from the ‘in too fast’ error, it’s nearly always the case that the BIKE could have made the corner. But in my time in training cornering crashes are much the same as they ever were. It’s not even a blink of the eye in terms of human evolution, and so it’s not surprising the rider always was and remains the weak link. But we can do better if we learn the appropriate skills. So given our propensity to find our way into trouble in bends, why aren’t we taught how to avoid one of the most common cornering crashes; running into a corner too hot? If getting the bike sorted for a bend really is as simple as getting back on the throttle before we try to steer, why do riders get themselves into such a muddle on corners by making the ‘in too fast’ error? Here are two answers.

The first involves the lack of time spent working on corners on basic training. As the test itself is conducted mostly on urban roads with a sprinkling of dual carriageway work, it’s unlikely that manys rider on the bike test will have to ride more than a mile or so along a reasonably twisty road. Not surprisingly, basic trainers tend to focus on the kind of roads the test will be conducted on, and whilst many will do some training on the twisties, it’s rarely ever in much depth. Even the technique of counter-steering is not guaranteed to be covered.

In my experience as a rider coach, many ‘cornering’ issues turn out to be a lack of confidence with the brakes. Why? Well, braking ahead of a bend is rarely taught on basic training for the reasons mentioned above, and how to break it’s largely left to the trainee to work out for themselves. Not having been taught how to brake before a corner, few riders ever practice braking upright before a bend. It’s a double-whammy.

But here’s a weird thing. We ALL know modern bikes can brake very hard in a straight line, most of us because our basic trainer spent hours teaching emergency stop technique. But for some reason, we never seem to appreciate that it’s the same basic ‘front first, rear second, progressively harder squeeze of the front’ approach that works wherever we need it – avoiding collisions, braking for red traffic lights or on the approach a roundabout…

…and approaching corners.

So for most riders – there are exceptions – it’s not a SKILLS gap, it’s actually a KNOWLEDGE gap perhaps because it was never made explicitly clear – no-one told them they can brake hard ahead of a corner.

But I also believe we also have problems at post-test level because riders are still being discouraged from braking for corners. Have you ever heard it said that “a good rider shouldn’t need to touch the brakes”? I have, and much too often for my liking.

I first read it back in my courier days, in articles written about the IAM test. It didn’t make a great deal of sense to me then, but when I put myself into the IAM’s hands towards the back end of my sixteen year stint as a courier, I was exposed to the thinking first-hand. Out with my observer on one of my favourite cross-country routes in Kent, it wasn’t long before I was pulled up. I was told “you are braking on the approach to corners”. Yes, I knew that so a “what’s wrong with that” debate followed. To keep it short, I was told that if I was “judging corners correctly”, I wouldn’t need to use the brakes – I could do all my deceleration with a closed throttle and judicious use of the gears. As I already knew, this was explained as ‘acceleration sense’.

The use of gears as a substitute for brakes is a topic for another day, but I turned the question-and-answer game around and got him to explain why he’d thought I wasn’t judging the corners simply because he’d seen me braking. I asked if I had gone into any of the corners with the brakes still being applied, off-line or at an inappropriate speed. He had to admit the answer to all these questions was “no, you didn’t”.

So I asked how it was, that if I wasn’t making these errors, that I was reading the road incorrectly? The answer was:

“Because you had to brake on the approach to a bend.”

You should be able to see that’s a circular argument, and totally unsupported by any logical thinking. It’s simply a repetition of a mantra: ‘acceleration sense good, brakes bad’.

The proper debate should have been about the proper timing and the relative effectiveness of the two techniques – acceleration sense or positive braking – at getting the speed sorted out in such as way as to prevent the ‘in too fast’ error.

So let’s do that by looking at the ‘in too fast’ problem. In the ideal world of advanced riding, we’d assess every stretch of road correctly. We’d read each bend perfectly. And we’d never make the ‘in too fast’ mistake.

Back in the real world, I am happy to admit that I do cock up. I am not a perfect rider, and every once in a while I do discover myself arriving too fast for the next corner. And here’s a truth none of us should ever forget. If we DO make a mistake and end up arriving too fast for the bend, we’ll be lucky if we get away with a horrible line round the corner. If we’re not so lucky, then the likelihood is we’ll run wide. On a right-hander, that’s likely to be off the road. Been there, done that. And if we happen to run wide on a left-hander, that takes us into the oncoming lane. Been there, done that too. And I don’t want to repeat it because it’s pure chance if we get away with it. The Grim Reaper could easily be driving a Scania coming the other way. Running wide on a left-hander is one of the killer crashes on UK rural roads.

So I prepare to deal with the ‘in too fast’ mistake rather than make an assumption that I got it right. And the easiest way to do this on the the approach to a bend is to roll off the throttle AND apply the brakes lightly rather than rely on engine braking alone.

Why? Quite simple. As soon as the throttle is shut, that’s the limit to our deceleration. There’s nothing left unless we start forcing the bike down through the gears.

By contrast, braking lightly at the same time as decelerating ‘sets up’ the brakes ready to use them. We can apply anything from a feather touch which barely slows the bike any more than engine braking alone, right up to a full-on emergency stop.

At this point, the critics usually pop up.

“Ah, but if you’d read the road ahead correctly you wouldn’t need to brake.” Well, most corners in the UK are blind as we enter them, and whilst I’m pretty good at asking “what if…” and preparing just in case, I’m not prescient and what I expect to happen and what actually appears isn’t always the same. I’d rather be prepared for getting it wrong than patting myself on the back for getting it right.

“But you can also brake even if you’re using acceleration sense.” Absolutely we can. But if we’re shutting the throttle with our fingers on the twist grip, we have to disengage them and reach over to the brake lever, then we have to start squeezing progressively. If we are ALREADY braking lightly, we have eliminated the delay and we can go straight into positive braking. By removing this delay, we can either stop in a shorter distance or we can brake less hard than a rider who’s had to switch from decelerating using the engine to using the brakes.

“But you’re more likely to grab the front brake if you’re dangling your fingers over it.” This one actually makes some sense but it’s a misunderstanding of just why we’re using the ‘setting up’ technique. As you’ll know from my work on ‘No Surprise? No Accident!’ the trigger for the panic reactions that cause many motorcycle crashes is the SURPRISE! that results when we’re caught out by a situation developing in a way we didn’t expect. Keeping fingers off the front brake is no guarantee we won’t give it a huge handful as soon as we panic. By contrast, the action of switching from engine braking alone to the ‘set up’ approach which pre-loads the brakes with light pressure indicates we’ve already switched to a mindset where we are anticipating we might have to brake harder. And that means we’re far less likely to suffer SURPRISE! when the bend doesn’t do what we hope.

“OK, but you’ll slow down too much.” Remember, we’re only applying a feather-touch to the brakes on the approach to the corner. That’s not going to slow us dramatically – in fact, we probably won’t be any slower into the corner because we know we can lose speed rapidly if we need to. And if nothing reveals itself? Then we simply release the brakes and roll back on the throttle to get the bike balanced before we turn in to the corner itself. And in any case, it’s much easier to regain speed in a corner if we rolled in a bit too slow than it is to shed speed mid-corner if we ran in too hot.

And once again, I’m not the only one advocating this technique. The ‘setting up’ technique is routinely taught on the approach to unpredictable hazards in Australia.

Hopefully I’ve now persuaded you the ‘setting up’ approach to a corner has some genuine benefits and no real drawbacks. This isn’t about ‘riding perfection’ but all about being pragmatic. If it can go wrong, it WILL go wrong sooner or later – that’s the assumption at the foundation of Survival Skills advanced motorcycle riding courses. So if in ANY doubt, SET UP the brakes.

Posted on

26. Cornering Problems 3 – Five tips to understanding cornering dynamics

Were I re-writing this article today, I would still emphasise that on real roads, with uneven surfaces, limited visibility, and the very real possibility of needing to find a new line mid-corner, finishing deceleration early and rebalancing the suspension before steering remains the most reliable way to maximise grip, reduce workload, and free up the rider’s full attention to staying on the road, no matter what issues the corner throws up unexpectedly.

What has changed is the current fad for trail braking. Unfortunately braking into a corner leaves the rider entirely vulnerable to abrupt changes in surface grip, something that has actually deteriorated dramatically since the piece was written. If a rider loses traction braking in a straight line, it’s no big deal even on a non-ABS bike so long as the rider recognises what’s happening, and releases then reapplies the brakes. The bike remains upright.

When braking while leaned over, the front tyre is already using grip to generate lateral force (cornering). Adding braking demands longitudinal grip at the same time. If available grip suddenly drops thanks to a polished surface, stone chips or a pothole, and if the front tyre can no longer satisfy both demands, something has to give — and it is usually cornering force first. If we’re lucky, the result is a slide. If we’re not, the tyre lets go. Basic ABS can do little about this since it only modulates the braking force, not the lateral force. The role of cornering ABS is also poorly understood. Since trail braking depends on reducing speed to tighten the line, if the braking force is reduced to preserve traction, the bike will continue to roll into the corner more rapidly than the rider planned for, and that added speed means a wider radius turn. The result is that the bike stays upright but “drifts wide”. In short, when cornering ABS intervenes mid-corner, it prioritises preventing a fall, not holding trajectory.

Cornering Problems 3 – Five tips to understanding cornering dynamics

Why do riders get themselves in a muddle on corners? In my experience as a rider coach offering Survival Skills post-test rider training, much of the problem lies in the lack of training in cornering at basic level. One of the key issues is a lack of understanding of just important it is to get a motorcycle ‘set up’ well in advance of a corner, particularly when a new rider has a car driving background. Powered two wheelers simply don’t work the same way. Whilst the dynamics of cornering are the unique and fun part of riding a bike, they are also the source of many scary moments and crashes.

The key to getting cornering dynamics right is to arrive at the point where we need to steer with the bike settled on the suspension. This means that we need to be travelling at the right speed in the right gear with the brakes released, and with the the suspension balanced thanks to a slight rearward weight transfer that’s effected by a gentle application of throttle.

Forget any articles you may have read about how ‘bikes turn faster on the brakes’. It’s mostly a misunderstanding about what’s happening.

Here’s the first point to understand – as any powered two wheeler slows, it will automatically turn along a progressively tighter line just so long as the lean angle stays the same. So if we brake into a corner, the bike will spriral into the corner more quickly.

But here’s the second. If we go into a corner on the brakes, it affects the steering geometry. Whilst they may look outwardly the same, race bikes and road bikes are set up rather differently. Race bikes – or even a road bike set up for the track – are usually set up to turn on the brakes. The steering head angle is likely to be different, and compared with a road bike where the suspension is designed to absorb bumps, the suspension on a race bike will be very stiff. Track tyres are also a different profile and construction. stiffer. If we brake into a bend on a road bike, with its relatively soft front forks and tyres, the compression of the front end will make the machine sit up in the corner and try to go straight on. If you don’t believe me, try applying the front brake mid-corner and see what happens. Better yet, don’t try it and just trust me when I say it’ll sit up. That’s the force we must resist if we turn in to a corner on the brakes. Rather than working with us, the bike is working against us.

We CAN compensate by adding extra steering input, but that pushes us closer to the limit of grip – see the previous article. And in fact, a bike with a standard road set up on road tyres will handle most sweetly with the forks unloaded by a little throttle.

Of course, we need to slow down approaching a bend so the steering dynamics impose a simple rule – we need to get OFF the brakes and back ON the throttle before we begin to change direction.

Sounds easy? Yet we all get it wrong on occasion, so here are five cornering issues we need to think about.

Suspension dynamics – to soak up bumps, the front suspension on a road bike is fairly soft but when decelerating (either with a closed throttle or with the brakes) the forks compress. This compromises their ability to soak up the bumps. If we hit bumps in a straight line, this is uncomfortable but relatively relatively unimportant in terms of machine stability unless we are really hard on the front brake, but the bumps will cause the tyre to compress and rebound, which compromises front end grip – it’s why the ABS sometimes kicks in when braking hard on a bumpy road. But as soon as we are leaned over, there is a real downside to hitting bumps. Not only does the front tyre lose traction if the suspension’s not moving freely, but the more we’re leaning, the greater the tendency for the bumps to try to ‘kick’ the front end sideways. Even with ABS, we’ll know all about it if we hit a series of ‘stutter bumps’ with the forks compressed midway through a bend. The track is relatively smooth. The road isn’t.

Steering dynamics – if we’ve finished decelerating (either with a closed throttle or with the brakes) and we’re gently back on the power, then the front forks extend again, Now the vast majority of road bikes set up for the road will steer with minimal input from the rider. If we carry brakes INTO the corner, we have to compensate by adding extra steering input which pushes us closer to the limits of stability.

KISS and ‘keep things simple, stupid’ – even when road riders try to avoid braking into the first part of the corner, a common fault is leaving everything a little too late. So we’re arriving at the bend and trying to get OFF the brakes, ON the throttle AND steer all at the same moment. Not surprisingly, the timing often goes awry, and the rider enters the corner still playing catch-up. Starting just a few metres earlier, then performing each task in succession – off the brakes THEN on the throttle THEN steer – we only have to perform one task at a time. We’re far more likely to complete each stage and turn in to the corner back on the power.

A change of mental focus – where do we look on the approach to a bend? Most people will say “at the road ahead” but in fact we’ll be looking DOWN at the surface and OUT from the corner towards the point we might run out of road – it’s a natural tendency to look where we DON’T want to go. If you don’t believe me, analyse your own riding. You might be surprised but it’s really not at all instinctive to look around the bend and away from danger. So we should make it a lot easier by ensuring we’re comfortable with our approach speed good and early. A planned approach to a corner that sorts our deceleration – and thus our speed – in plenty of time is what frees up our ability to lift our view and look up and around the corner. Why does this work? If we are happy to get back on the throttle, we MUST be sure we will make it round the bend. We’re often told we SHOULD look further ahead. This is HOW. It’s almost impossible to open the throttle when we’re worried we’re going to run out of road.

Margins for error – last but not least, we simply must have some space to deal with misjudgements. We are performing a complex mental calculation every time we approach a corner – we have to judge the radius of the bend, work out the speed and lean angle that will match that corner, assess where we need to steer to follow the bend… and we can only achieve that if we correctly estimate how much we need to slow down. It’s easy to misjudge both our initial braking force and the corner entry speed. By AIMING to get our deceleration finished early, we leave ourselves some extra space in case we find we need to lose a little MORE speed.

All this and more is part of the Survival Skills advanced rider training ‘Performance’ courses, focusing on better cornering skills. If you’re serious about understanding how your brain functions as well as how your machine performs underneath you, why not check them out?

Posted on

25. Cornering Problems 2 – Cornering lines, stability and the ‘Point and Squirt’ technique

What’s changed since this was first written? Motorcycles have gained sophisticated electronic aids, but the roads have become less predictable. Stability control, ABS and traction control can soften the consequences of poorly timed inputs, but they do not change the underlying physics of cornering, nor do they improve vision or judgement. The real advantage of delaying turn-in and reducing time spent leaned over is not ‘progress’ but retaining options. Modern UK roads are rapidly disintegrating. and actually show the benefits of this ‘late apex line’ (as it’s now often called) even more than when I first wrote this; later commitment allows better vision before turning, slower approach means less lean, quicker steering means reduced time at lean and an earlier return to drive out of the corner. Modern riding aids do not eliminate the problems the roads themselves put in our path, and my demolition of the simplistic “upright = stable” mantra is still justified, as is the fact that it’s our inputs which keep the bike in a metastable condition, and the critique of the maximum-radius line is still necessary, since it’s still repeated uncritically in some advanced riding circles and the explanation that riders simply use that extra radius to go faster — rather than to increase margin — is a textbook description of risk compensation applied to cornering. “Point and Squirt” as a road strategy remains valid.

Cornering Problems 2 – Cornering lines, stability and the ‘Point and Squirt’ technique

You may have heard this statement:

“A motorcycle is most stable when it is upright and travelling in a straight line at a constant speed.”

You’ll find this in quite a lot of writing on advanced riding. Unfortunately, it’s not quite correct. A motorcycle is most stable when it is lying on its side. That’s not a great deal of use to us if we’re hoping to ride it.

So I’ll make an alternative statement for you to ponder:

“If we’re not actually crashing, the bike must STILL be stable – crashing is the definition of UNstable.”

All of our bike control skills achieve just two results:

changes of speed
changes of direction

So have a think about this too:

“If we don’t make steering inputs the bike will ultimately become unstable and it will fall over.”

In essence, as soon as we’re moving, the machine is generating is a different kind of stability which is sometimes called ‘meta-stability’, and by feeding in steering inputs we’re constantly maintaining a meta-stable state.

So what we’re actually interested in is not ‘stability’ per se, but understanding how stability is affected by the INPUTS we make to the machine change speed or direction, where we sit within the LIMITS of stability at any one moment, and whether our inputs (or even lack of inputs) in terms of changing speed and direction are pushing the machine towards those limits. Specifically we need to know if we are about to create an unstable state, because that’s when we are going to crash.

So let’s think about limits of stability. It’s determined by two things

how much input force we apply through the controls

tyre grip against the road surface – even the best tyres offer zero grip if the road surface can’t deliver its half of the bargain

Let’s start with the input forces. There’s applying a braking force (either via the brakes or a closed throttle) and there is a driving force (from opening the throttle), and usually forgotten is that steering also applies a force (which makes the bike change lean angle).

So what pushes us towards the limits of stability? Most of us will usually think of the consequences of an excess of force combined with insufficient grip. Big handfuls of brake or throttle risk tyre lock-ups (or triggering ABS) or wheelspin (or triggering traction control). Big lean angles risk sliding tyres. And these limits are ‘mix-and-match’ too. If we are braking or accelerating, we compromise our ability to lean the bike, and if we are leaning, we compromise our ability to brake or accelerate. This is the basis of the advice to keep braking or throttle use away from corners. If we’re upright, we can brake or accelerate as hard as the tyres’ limits. But once leant over, some of the grip is being used to maintain our curved path, and so we have reduced grip to brake or accelerate. This is the basis of what’s known as the ‘traction pie’, where we ‘slice up’ grip.

Less obviously, instability can be result from the rate of change of one of those forces. we can destabilise the bike by braking too hard (and pulling a stoppie) or accelerating too hard (and pulling a wheelie). Ultimately we could loop the bike. But we can also destabilise the bike if the rate of change of direction is too high – we can generate a big wobble or weave. Bumps or gusts of wind are external forces and can also destabilise the machine. To reduce the rate of change we just back off the input and reduce the force being applied.

So having said all that, if the machine is upright and with only just enough power being applied via the rear wheel to keep it moving at constant speed, then what we have are the biggest RESERVES of stability.

So how could we try to stay away from the limit of grip in a corner?

A common suggestion is to maximise the radius of the turn, instead of simply staying in the middle of the lane all the way round, which is – more or less – the approach taught on basic training. So on a right-hander, we’d start by kerb, cross the width of our lane to come close to the centre line mid-corner, then drift out again so by the time we leave the corner, we’re back over kerb. This way we fit the maximum radius line compared with the ‘middle of the lane’ line. In theory, we are “working our tyres less hard”. That very advantage is mentioned in an early 2000s BikeSafe video from West Midlands police which I have in my collection.

But let’s think about that a little harder.

That’s only true if we keep our speed the same. Let’s think about cornering physics. If we accelerate at the same lean angle, we’ll spiral out onto a wide line. If we slow down at the same lean angle, we’ll spiral inwards. Corner grip – and thus stability – isn’t just lean angle OR speed. It’s a combination of both – angular momentum.

When we corner, we almost all develop a ‘comfort lean angle’ where rider and bike are at their happiest. Now, a moment’s thought should tell us that if we adopt our comfort lean angle at the same time as we follow the maximum radius line, then the wider line does NOT reduce the need for tyre grip at all because we’ll be riding the corner faster. So we’ve not actually increased our tyre grip margins at all because we’ve increased our angular momentum. We actually need to reduce our lean angle (and angular momentum) to increase our margins and to “work our tyres less hard” as claimed in the video.

But in reality, wide cornering lines are nearly always used to carry more speed at our comfort lean angle. A clue to that is its other name – the racing line.

There are other problems. Compared with the middle-of-the-lane line, the maximum radius line starts earlier and finishes later. Or to put it another way, we’re leaned over for longer. When we’re leaned over, our ability to brake or accelerate is compromised. And that means on the way into the corner, we can’t brake as late. On the way out of the bend, we cannot get on the gas as early.

You might have noticed that many bends in the UK are blind – that is, we cannot see our way out of the bend from the point where we start turning. Taking a line that commits us to an early turn-in makes it even more difficult to see through the corner, which means it becomes more difficult to assess it. And if we do get the line wrong, committing ourselves onto this maximim radius line commits us to a wide exit line. If the bend goes on just a bit longer than we expected when we committed to the maximum radius line, there’s a risk we’ll run out of room on the way out of the corner. And that’s the main reason I only ever use the maximum radius line when I have 100% vision, right through the corner and out the other side.

So… if the maximum radius line is a potentially risky one, what are the alternatives?

Ever since CBT was introduced in 1990, basic training has taught riders to follow a middle-of-the-lane line, or even keep a little to the left of centre. It may be ‘basic’ but it keeps us away from the extreme edges of the road. It has some pluses:

it keeps us away from the centre line on right-handers (and gives us a slightly better view ahead)

it keeps us away from the nearside on left-handers (and gives us a slightly better view ahead)

it keeps the bike upright slightly later on the way into the bend (we can brake closer to the corner if we need to)

it gets the bike upright slightly earlier on the way out of the bend (we can get on the gas sooner if we need to)

Whilst we trade off a bit of mid-corner speed at our comfort lean angle, because we’re reduced our angular momentum, we actually need a bit less grip, even though the lean angle is the same as on the wider line. And this bonus tyre grip is useful in case we need to brake or swerve to avoid an unseen hazard.

A second option is to push this ‘follow the bend’ line out closer to the edge of the lane. Not so close we’re at risk of meeting an oncoming vehicle on a left-hander, but far enough towards the centre line that we get a little more view still. Likewise on a right-hander, a line closer to the verge would also improve our view ahead.

But remember I said that if the machine is upright and with only just enough power being applied via the rear wheel to keep it moving at constant speed, then what we have are the biggest RESERVES of stability?

What if we mix and match these ideas? How about this – what if we use that ‘follow the bend line’ shifted to the outside of the corner around the first part of the bend, then use a quick steering input to straighten out the final part of the corner and get the benefits of the maximum radius line when we can see where the bend goes?

What are the benefits? By avoiding turning in on the maximum radius line initially, we do deeper into the corner and stay upright longer before we change direction. Mid-corner, we’ve trade off the sweeping line’s mid-corner speed which gives more reserves of grip, which in turn allow a more positive steering input to change change direction more rapidly at the delayed ‘turn-in’ point which happens only when we can see where we’re going next. The more positive steering input gets the bike turned faster, and pointed where we want to go sooner, which means we can open out the final part of the bend on that maximum radius line. Finally we get the machine upright sooner, which means we’re back on the power earlier.

This is the technique I’ve been teaching ever since I launched my Survival Skills advanced cornering courses, and I call it the ‘Point and Squirt’ line because what we effectively do is ‘point’ the bike first, THEN ‘squirt’ the power on to drive the bike clear of the corner.

It’s slower INTO the corner, but gives us a better view THROUGH the bend before we start to turn, and that means we’re more likely to spot mid-corner obstructions like a parked vehicle, a pothole or a fuel spill, as well as identify a double-apex corner before we’re committed. The wider line means we can keep away from extreme left or right positions in the lane and we can build in a bigger clearance to entrances to our left and oncoming vehicles to our right. The lower speed at the point where we steer to open out the corner means we’ve more reserves of grip. And whatever speed we lose INTO the bend we more than recover on the way OUT. In a short sentence, managing corners to keep both the time and the distance where the bike is learnt over as short as possible is a good thing, not bad.

Despite the explanations, this line still comes under fire, with critics saying:

“it’s slower” – yes, it’s slower mid-corner – is that such a bad thing – but we’re upright sooner and faster out, which fits with the well-known ‘slow in, fast out’ advice. But we’re also upright a little longer into the corner which allows us to decelerate slightly later, and because we’re upright much sooner, we regain speed whilst the rider on the maximum radius line is still leaned over. Yes, that rider will catch us MID-corner, but we’ll leave them behind on the way out of the bend.

“it needs more grip because you’re steering harder” – a misunderstanding of the angular momentum issue. The reduced mid-corner speed more than compensates for the more positive input needed to make the quicker change of direction.

“it’s less fun” – well, if having your head removed by a passing truck is fun, carry on. If I want big mid-corner lean angles, I’ll go to the track where I’m unlikely to have to take evasive action halfway around. The only real difficulty is that we have to get used to a late, postive steering input. If we’ve used to turning in early on a sweeping line, it can take some adapting to.

“if it’s so good why doesn’t everyone teach it” – as it happens, Andy Ibbott, the former racer writing as the UK director of the California Superbike School, featured exactly this approach in an MCN article some years ago, so there are other rider coaches who recognise the advantages.