16. A Moment of Inattention? Or a lack of attention to fixing problems?

A universal and ongoing challenge in motorcycling is understanding how human instinct, fear, and attention interact with skill under real-world stress, what’s now referred to as ‘human factors’. Even experienced riders can find themselves in situations where instinct and fear override skill. This article explores a real-world braking emergency to illustrate how inattention, poor anticipation, and stress responses interact, why emergency skills alone aren’t enough, and how proactive hazard assessment and mindset can prevent dangerous situations before they occur. The article’s core message — that accidents often result from cognitive and attentional failures rather than purely technical deficiencies — remains as relevant today as ever and explains why neuroscience matters to motorcyclists.


A Moment of Inattention? Or a lack of attention to fixing problems?

The following was posted in a discussion group by a friend of mine, Don Kime, an instructor in the States. What can be learned? The rider identifies some of the problems for himself. So why’s he not done something about sorting it out? And here’s the really scary bit: “Here we go again.” So he’s been in this position before. What’s he not learned from the previous incidents?

“More harrowing braking experiences. This is beginning to scare me. I just got back from a ride and was on a two lane, fairly straight and wide, country road. I was following a pickup doing somewhere around 75mph. He was about four car lengths or more ahead of me. I was just enjoying the ride, as usual. Next thing I know all I see is brake lights and I am closing on his tail gate fast. Here we go again.

“I immediately get down on both brakes, and the back wheel promptly locks up. At first I am not really sure which wheel is sliding until the back end starts to wag back and forth. At this point I know I need to be squeezing the front brake harder than I am, but for some reason I am afraid I am going to slide the front wheel and loose control. In retrospect, I don’t think I was anywhere near loosing traction on the front. I am in the grips of fear and (again) fixated on the tail gate of the truck.

“For a moment I am sure I am not going to be able to stop in time, but I feel like I can at least get my speed down before I impact. I continue on the front brake with the rear locked. I know I should have released the rear, but at the moment there was no way I was going to let off either brake. I managed to bear down a bit harder on the front once I realized that it was the rear that was sliding and not the front. I brought the bike to a stop about 10ft behind the truck in a cloud of smoke from my rear tire. (I flat spotted the heck out of my new Macadam!)

“The pickup had just stopped dead in the middle of the road to make a right turn (without signalling). I don’t know if he had slammed on his brakes hard or if I had not seen them when they first came on. All I remember is going about 70 and seeing brake lights and a truck that had come to a complete stop right in front of me.

I made several rookie mistakes (again). First of all, I made no attempt to avoid. I fixated. I probably could have gone around, but once I locked the back wheel that was no longer an option. I don’t remember if there was any oncoming traffic or not. I don’t think I had time to look. Second, I did not brake the front wheel aggressively enough. My first instinctive reaction was to jam down the brake pedal which resulted in the rear wheel slide and making me panic. I think if I had used only the front brake I would have stopped much sooner. But for some reason, I can’t seem to keep myself from stomping on the rear brake in an emergency. Right after the incident I did three practice emergency braking tests. I was able to bring the bike to a controlled stop all three times in a distance much shorter than what I had just done. But I was not in a real emergency situation.

Something happens to my brain when I am in a real emergency situation that prevents me from thinking clearly and braking correctly. Fear, plain in simple. Maybe I just need to practice more so it is second nature. My brain just seems to lock up in panic situations. I need to somehow learn to control my fear instead of letting it control me.”

So what can we learn? What are the issues?

Let’s take a moment to think about what the rider has for himself identified as a problem – his braking technique. Notice he said he practiced three stops immediately after the incident and managed them fine. It should be obvious that he was not familiar with the using the brakes hard. Practicing emergency stops after the event is too late!

But here’s the real problem: “Something happens to my brain when I am in a real emergency situation… I made no attempt to avoid. I fixated. I probably could have gone around, but once I locked the back wheel that was no longer an option.”

Once in a panic situation, self-preservation and instinct took over from planned riding. Why? Because we cannot easily practice emergencies! As there’s no actual emergency in a practice emergency stop, the risk is that if we don’t see it coming soon enough to brake hard consciously, our unconscious ‘Survival Reactions’ take over. These are the primitive and instinctive responses the threat, such as target fixation, freezing and over-braking. Keith Code first talked about this in his ‘Twist of the Wrist’ books. And it’s actually a dramatic limitation of training in emergency techniques. We know what to do in an emergency, but we don’t know how we’ll react in an emergency.

So, how do we prevent survival reactions taking over?

The first option is not to follow so close. He said: “I was following a pickup doing somewhere around 75mph. He was about four car lengths or more ahead of me”. If he’d really been that close, he would have hit the back of the truck before he had even applied the brakes, so let’s make some allowance for hazy perceptions of following distance after the event, but it’s still clear he was too close. If we’re to avoid triggering survival reactions, we need to see the vehicle ahead begin to slow, and still have time to think.

How far back is that?

Well that depends on something else. Our expectations. He said: “The pickup had just stopped dead in the middle of the road to make a right turn (without signalling).” Well, that’s not exactly unusual is it? Vehicles – including motorcycles – stop. Our rider had failed to anticipate it might happen. And that means it was a SURPRISE! And SURPRISE! is the trigger for survival reactions. More about this on the No Surprise No Accident website.

It’s hard to give hard and fast distances but in essence if we’re taken by SURPRISE we can add anything from 1 second to 3 seconds to our stopping distance. That’s not because we’re braking less effectively, it’s because it takes that long to actually BEGIN to react. The Highway Code talks about ‘reaction time’ and ‘stopping distance’, but ignores this ‘recognition time’. Whilst we can certainly stop in less than the near-100 metre distance the Highway Code says we should allow IF we anticipate the need to stop and hit the brakes immediately, if we freeze for three seconds, we’ll have travelled no less than 90 metres before even beginning to brake!

What we actually need is a riding plan that factors in things going wrong before it actually happens. Read this: “I was just enjoying the ride, as usual… I don’t remember if there was any oncoming traffic or not. I don’t think I had time to look.” Do you begin to see the problem? We all tend to drift at times but a lack of focus on the riding task is dangerous. Alertness can’t be sacrificed for relaxation. He shouldn’t have had to think about looking, he should have been aware of other traffic As Don says “I don’t see this as a ‘braking’ issue – I see it as a ‘thinking’ issue”.

Finally let’s look at Don’s summary of the event.

“First, as many of you have said, unless the rider was planning on overtaking, his following distance was far too close. If he was planning on overtaking, he should have been fully aware of all traffic ahead including any sideroads or driveways or other situations which could produced just what happened. I have learned to never put myself in an overtaking posture when there could be reason for the driver to brake for an unsignalled turn, an animal, bad roadway surface, etc., etc.

“Assuming that the rider was not overtaking, it was a potentially disastrous mistake to follow so closely, but this was exaggerated by a very lackadaisical attitude toward having full information on traffic conditions ahead – together, in my opinion, a potentially deadly combination.

“I see this as 90% of the learning opportunity from this situation. Most emergency braking, in my opinion, results from this kind of failure, and I’m not sure that all the braking practice or discussion in the world assures a rider of righting this wrong. I’m not sure how any of us, including me, will react in a true ‘the collision is imminent’ braking situation. I’ve fortunately not had to find out as ‘heavy braking’ has always been enough. Nonetheless, I practice maximum braking as often as possible.

“However, it is my personal preference to concentrate the vast majority of my efforts at avoiding this situation. I personally believe that this is the only right answer.

“My final thought on this is that… with proper anticipation and attention to defensive motorcycle riding these kinds of situations do not have to be the norm. I don’t recall when last I had a traffic situation ‘surprise’ me. …and I don’t say this to blow my horn as a rider. There are many far better riders than me. I simply practice religiously a system of riding which attempts to separate me from situations at which this particular rider failed. In my opinion, this is the difference between motorcycling being a ‘relatively’ safe, wonderfully challenging and enjoyable activity and one which can kill you very quickly. At the same time, I am fully aware that, in spite of all our best efforts, there is one out there that can get any of us. That’s why I wear the gear and am very appreciative of good luck.”

My final comment is to repeat what another contributor said: “The old pilot axiom is that superior pilots are the ones who never get in a position where they need to use their superior skills”.

Absolutely.

15. Getting it wrong is easy, learning from a mistake seems a lot harder

Motorcycle crashes aren’t random. They follow patterns that haven’t changed for decades, yet many riders continue to repeat the same mistakes and the persistent human factors behind motorcycle crashes are overconfidence, poor anticipation, and failure to learn. Modern studies in accident analysis still emphasise that cognitive biases, overconfidence, and misjudgment are major contributors to crashes. Encouraging riders to ask “what could go wrong” and analyse their own role in crashes is a principle that should underpin all modern advanced rider training.


Getting it wrong is easy, learning from a mistake seems a lot harder

However good we are, we all make mistakes. Provided we survive them, then do we learn from them? It’s a good question and insurance industry statistics suggest that most riders don’t. Riders who have had an accident in the previous three years are three times more likely than average to have another accident in the following year – insurance companies do not load the premiums of riders who crash for no reason! And here’s something else to think about. We don’t have to learn from our own experience, we can look at where other riders crash, and historically we still have the same accident types as motorcyclists have always had. Here are the Big Three. Collisions at junctions. Crashes on corners. Overtaking accidents. Look at statistics from the 1950s and 2010s and you’ll find nothing has changed. What does that tell you? It should suggest we don’t learn well from experience – either our own, or someone else’s.

Have you had a ‘moment’ recently?

Have a think. Ask yourself some questions.

Did you see it coming, and if you did were you able to react in time and take avoiding action? If you couldn’t take evasive action, why not?

If you didn’t see it coming, what were you looking at? Did you fail to spot the clues to what was about to happen or did you fail to anticipate the likely sequence of events and consequences of what you were seeing?

We should know by now that the most common motorcycle crash is a collision between a bike and a car. But have a think on this. If the driver failed to spot the bike, the car was almost always where the rider could see it. Riders usually report that “the driver didn’t see me” and not that “I didn’t see the car”. In fact, they often say something along the lines of “the driver was looking right at me”. So the rider saw the vehicle they were about to collide with, no problem.

So what was going on in the rider’s head at that moment? Do they simply glance at the car, then leave it to the driver to sort it all out? That certainly seems to be the case in most car : bike collisions.

Here’s another example. A typical overtaking and filtering crash occurs when the driver turns right across the bike’s path. The rider’s cop-out is usually that “the driver should have checked his mirror properly” or “the driver didn’t signal before turning”. But think about it. If a car COULD turn right, why is the rider overtaking? Did the rider fail to spot the junction or driveway? Or did the rider simply assume that the driver wouldn’t turn?

If we haven’t anticipated a dangerous situation, then it’s our mistake as much as anyone else’s. And many bike crashes are down to the rider alone. Most cornering crashes and many overtakes that go wrong result from really poor decisions by the rider and the rider alone. Even when legally it’s the fault of another road user that we found ourselves in a difficult or dangerous situation, we should be looking for ways not to get into that situation in the first place. There’s no benefit to blaming the other road user from the stretcher.

If we don’t ride in a state of mind where we are looking for things to go wrong, then we WILL be caught out by unexpected – and very much routine – crashes. If we habitually say “it was the other guy’s fault” or “there was nothing I could do”, then we are fooling ourselves and will learn nothing. We need to assess our riding critically. Yet many riders find it almost impossible to admit to making a mistake. “The corner’s surface was rubbish”, or “the driver coming the other way was speeding”.

As I mentioned right at the beginning, we have the same crashes as we always have always had. Why haven’t we learned?

14. Who is writing your biking advice? Make sure it’s good!

I sometimes pick up criticism for commenting negatively on other articles on better biking skills. “Why are you being so negative? They are only trying to help” was something I heard a while back. The trouble is, not all advice is created equal. When it comes to cornering, there’s a still a focus on prioritising ‘progress’ and textbook lines over hazard awareness, leaving riders exposed to surprises. Where we look and how we think about hazards in corners matters more than how fast we take a bend; the aim of the article is to explain why situational awareness should always come first in advanced riding. The reference to the MAC courses from 1998 may seem out of date, but in fact there is still a need for similar cautions, particularly in this age of modern tech; that might change the machine dynamics but cannot replace situational awareness.

Who is writing your biking advice? Make sure it’s good!

Some years back I was reading a new section on advanced riding on another website. The section was designed to pull in readers to the business, and I wasn’t surprised to see that the first article dealt with cornering – it usually does! But rather than being written ‘in-house’, contributions were from readers. In this case, the article appeared it was written by someone who had completed a two day Motorcycle Appreciation Course (MAC) in 1998 as part of that now-defunct Honda-run training initiative. No problem, I thought, I’m always interested in new ideas and new sources. However, reading it more closely revealed a couple of misunderstandings. At least I hoped they were misunderstandings and not what was taught!

So what did I spot that concerned me? The most important one involved our old friend the Limit Point (or vanishing, distance or convergence point) and what we should do with it.

He states “quick riding particularly through bends is all about position. Correct positioning will enable maximum visibility and consequently more rapid progress.”

Uh-oh. First warning sign. Notice the emphasis on quick riding and progress. As I stated in a previous tip, skills-based training has to be tempered by a knowledge of what can go WRONG. My first thought would be “what might make me slow down and maybe even stop”, not how fast I can get around the bend. Our goal in a bend is NOT ‘more progress’. It’s all about identifying hazards that might make us slow down. IF and ONLY IF we are certain that we cannot see any reasons to slow down, THEN we can choose whether or not making ‘progress’ is appropriate. And I know this is where the Survival Skills risk-based approach to training parts company with a lot of other post-test training in the UK.

“Therefore moving to the left for a right-hander, staying in to the left watching the vanishing point until you can see the exit then drifting away from the left towards the right easing out the bend and accelerating away will open the bend out allowing more brisk progress. The opposite applies for left-handers”.

No. Once we realise that our first task is always to work out where we might to stop, then we need to look out for the hazards that might make us stop. Gaining the best possible view around the bend isn’t the same as maximising our view of hazards.

If we’re going to experience a nasty SURPRISE! on a corner, it’s most likely to appear from a hazard called a ‘surprise horizon’. The surprise horizon is a blind area between us and the furthest point we can see is clear. The reason a surprise horizon is a hazard we need to be aware of is because of the risk that a vehicle (or a cycle or a person or even an animal) could suddenly appear. And it’s appearing between us and the limit point.

And that in turn leads to two other conclusions:

positioning to see as far as the limit point MUST be subsidiary to changing position to open up views into these blind areas. If we simply ride to open up view around a right-hand bend, it can place us perilously close to these blind entrances on the nearside.

our speed must be set to allow us to take some evasive action at the surprise horizon, not the limit point

Are there any other hazards?

We mustn’t forget that the more we position to the right-of-centre and close to the centre line, there is the potential risk of conflict with oncoming traffic. The narrower the road or the sharper the corner, the worse the risk. Too far to the right and the only benefit will be that we see what we’re about to hit a moment sooner. We must give up position if keeping right on a left-hander would potentially expose us to a risk of head-on collision. We MUST maintain a broader focus on the ROAD, not just the the corner – we must maintain SITUATIONAL AWARENESS.

Then he continued: “if all this seems rather obvious, it is probably because it is and certainly it came as nothing new to me. So why was I losing speed on the approach to bends and in some cases while negotiating them?

“I had forgotten not the need to assess the line of the road well in advance, but to maintain concentration on where it was going, in other words where I wanted to go… It took me some while to realise that instead of watching the vanishing point and chasing it, my eye was straying to changes in the road surface, the instruments, or minor obstructions. As soon as my concentration strayed, my momentum through the bend or on its approach reduced.”

Maybe I’m deliberately failing to read between the lines, but to me (and possibly to someone reading this with whilst looking for advice) this reads as if the broader situational awareness is being seen as a distraction from the all-important task of ‘making progress’ through the corner.

Of course we look at the road surface, of course we look at ‘minor obstructions’. We have to, because we are not on a race track and we need to keep an up-to-date 360 degree mental map of our surroundings, and a lot of vital detail can only be assessed when we’re closer-up. What’s a dark patch spotted in the distance? Only close up will we be able to tell if it’s a road repair with different coloured tarmac, a pothole, a damp patch or a fuel spill. Clearly, there are good times to make mirror checks and glance at the instruments, and that’s probably not in the middle of the corner, but denying that we need to check the surface or what’s left and right of our path is just plain wrong.

My guess is that the entire diagnosis of the writer’s problems was wrong. It was not ‘lack of forward vision’ so much as a late response to the hazards he had spotted – hence running in on a closed throttle – plus a general lack of a plan allowing the rider to negotiate bends as a flowing sequence. Possibly he got a lecture on the dangers of target fixation.

That would tally with what he says later about it being “a truism that we go where we look”. That’s another old chestnut. We actually look at what scares us – it’s built-in to human responses to threats. It’s target fixation and it’s a far more natural response to the threats of the road, and it takes a real effort to lift our view further ahead and away from the threat. And one of the things that creates target fixation, pulling our view down and to the immediate surroundings, is trying to ride too fast – we start focusing on the Number One job which is simply staying on the tarmac. If we haven’t got time to spread our vision around, then we’re riding too close to our limits. And there’s another reason progress should never be a goal of training, but an outcome of eliminating risk.

So next time you’re out on the bike, have a think about where you are looking. If you’re being surprised by hazards appearng AHEAD, then you need to pick your vision up and search further ahead. If you’re being surprised by hazards appearing from the SIDES then you need to spread your view left and right. In either case, you may need to slow down initially, but what you should not be doing is focusing exclusively on the limit point.

 

13. Practice doesn’t just makes PERMANENT… it keeps POLISHED too

The very first version of this article, written over fifteen years ago fell into a common trap. I talked about how practice makes perfect. But I quickly learned – thanks to a horse riding instructor who was took training courses with both Survival Skills Advanced Rider Training and another former trainer who remains a buddy of mine – that’s not actually how it works. Repeating a skill actually fixes it in place – it makes it PERMANENT. For that reason it’s vital to learn the RIGHT techniques before we start practicing. We need to practice the perfect! It highlights a slightly different angle of rider development—skill retention, mental mapping, and context-dependent performance—rather than purely skill acquisition or risk awareness. But even after that my ideas developed. It’s perfectly possible to LOSE skills if we don’t keep them POLISHED. Riding skills should not be ‘just learned’, they shouldn’t eve be ‘maintained’. They should be honed and worked up to even higher levels.


Practice doesn’t just makes PERMANENT… it keeps POLISHED too

It all started when I was watching an online debate about the technique of ‘offsiding’, which is where riders cross the centre line onto the other lane to get a better view ahead:

“It helped me get over my reticence for going over the white line onto the wrong side of the road approaching corners for more visibility…. The thing I noticed in France was that I could easily move to the left for a right hand corner, because then I was on the ‘correct’ side of the road for home, therefore it didn’t feel as awkward. I think it’s just a mental barrier I have to overcome.”

I’m not going into the offsiding technique here – that’s another debate altogether – but it got me thinking.

I’d noticed that when I was abroad, although I was comfortable sitting near the centre line on a right-hander (ie, the reverse of what we’d do in the UK), I really wasn’t nearly so happy lining the bike up with the righthand edge of the lane near the grass for a left-hander. In the UK, I can place the bike precisely along the grass verge, but in France I was giving myself a good metre of leeway. I felt very uncomfortable pushing myself any closer, and if I tried I began to fixate on the edge of the road to the exclusion of taking advantage of the view ahead – it was definitely a mental thing.

Holding our position accurately within the lane is largely subconscious and relies on peripheral vision – or it should, if our our attention is up away and some distance ahead. But to achieve that precise positioning, we need a ‘mental map’ of the lane so our peripheral vision has something to refer to.

Riding all the time in the UK, constant practice generates a clear mental map of how my position should appear in peripheral vision. So when positioning left-of-centre to see around a right-hand bend, I ‘knew’ where I was in the lane, which allowed me to get on with looking further ahead.

But once I switched sides of the road in France, the mental map was clearly missing. As soon as I lined up right-of-centre near the verge, I began worrying subconsciously about the position of the bike.

As soon as I realised this, I began working on moving position bit-by-bit, rather than trying to take up the mirror image position. It took a bit of effort, but I was soon overcoming this mental block.

Now, here’s the reference to ‘practice keeps polished’. If I don’t ride abroad for a while, the problem comes back. But if I ride abroad regularly, it goes away quickly. If I take a break from riding abroad – as I did some years back – then it takes much longer for the issue to vanish again.

An excellent demonstration that we need to constantly work on riding skills to keep them polished and in tip-top condition. So…

…when was the last time you performed an emergency stop?

12. Training for skills, pushing the envelope and margins for error, and over-confidence

The core principles discussed — balancing skills training with risk awareness, avoiding overconfidence, and recognising the limitations of both human ability and bike dynamics — remain absolutely relevant today. In fact, they’re arguably even more pertinent given the continued growth of powerful motorcycles, rider-assist technologies, and the wider availability of advanced track or skills training, which can unintentionally reinforce overconfidence. The key to reducing risk is not just honing our skills—it is understanding hazards, managing risk, and maintaining a margin for error. This article explores why true ‘better’ riding is as much about mindset and awareness as it is about technique.


Training for skills, pushing the envelope and margins for error, and over-confidence

Fundamentally, training in hazard awareness, risk assessment and risk management is the essential counterweight to balance training in riding skills. If we don’t get the balance right – or ignore the risk aspect altogether – then it’s easy to become overly confident, particularly as most of us (at least, right up to our first big crash) have false sense of indestructibility. Skills training, particularly when combined with inexperience, can lead to levels of confidence which take us into situations we cannot handle. It’s vital to recognise that this is a real issue. We should see training as a way to INCREASE our margins for error, and not an excuse to push our skills to the limit.

Let’s explain what I mean by asking a question. Why do we take training? The usual answers will be “to be a better or safer rider” or “to gain confidence”.

Let’s look at the ‘safer rider’ idea first. As I’ve said many times, there is no such thing as ‘safety’ on a motorcycle, and anyone who tells us that training makes us ‘safe’ riders is kidding us and themselves. Instead of safety, we need to think in terms of risk. In very simple terms, risk is:

the chance of something going wrong MULTIPLIED BY the impact on us when it goes wrong

So we really need a good grasp of what can go wrong!

That means understanding WHAT creates a threat to our health; that is, a ‘hazard’, WHERE we’ll find those hazards, and WHY the hazard creates a risk. Once we know that, we can assess the risk, and have a better understand how to manage that risk. It may sound the same but it creates a very different mindset when we start looking at riding in terms of “what can go wrong” rather than “what I’m doing makes me safe”.

And what about the concept of becoming a ‘better’ rider. What does ‘better’ actually mean?

For many training courses, it means that the trainee goes away with better ‘skills’. Skills tend to focus is on vehicle manoeuvring. This might be improved braking technique, better use of the throttle, the ability to swerve around an obstacle or techniques designed to improve cornering. This is particularly evident in track-based training and I often hear it suggested that new or less-confident riders to take a track-training day “to get used to handling the bike at higher speeds / greater lean angles / under harder braking”.

So the question we have to ask ourselves is “what does the trainee come away with?”

The answer is that whilst the trainee may have improved what were previously disfunctional skills, there is a risk they’ll come away from the session being able to use – and FEELING CONFIDENT TO USE – those higher speeds, greater lean angles and harder braking out on the road. It should be fairly obvious that there are potential problems here:

IMPROVING our own level of skill does NOT change bike dynamics. For example, our skill level does not change the level of grip between tyres and road. We may be more capable of braking harder or leaning more, but it also pushes us closer to the edge of the envelope.

EXPLOITING improved skills to ride faster, at greater lean angles or to brake harder DOES significantly changes bike dynamics. For example, we should know that if we double our speed, we QUADRUPLE our stopping distance. So even if we increase our speed by 25%, we increase our braking distance by more than might be obvious. More speed also increases the radius of a turn which means to get round a particular corner requires more lean angle, which makes it harder to brake or change direction, or even to respond to a slippery surface.

There’s a secondary effect. If we’re taught skills that allow us to perform more complex manoeuvres, then because they are more complex they nearly always have a higher risk of going wrong. For example, learning slow handling skills encourages riders try U-turns in confined areas where there’s a greater risk the manoeuvre will go wrong.

And finally, there’s no guarantee that we’ll use any of these added skills in an emergency. That’s something Keith Code noted years ago in his ‘Twist of the Wrist’ books. He realised that even highly-trained riders revert to instinct and panic because their training leads them to expect things to go right. When they go wrong, SURPRISE! kicks in, and they suffer from what he called ‘survival reactions’ – typically, panic reactions, freezing and target fixation.

So what I’m getting at is that there’s another kind of ‘better’ and that’s an improved understanding of what can go wrong, a heightened awareness of risk, and an ability to make better decisions when confronted with a threat.

Here is a very simple example. What’s the most common crash involving a rider in an urban area? You probably guessed, it’s the ‘Sorry Mate I Didn’t See You’ SMIDSY collision.

So first of all we need an understanding that driver can fail to see a motorcycle even when it seems to the rider that the bike is perfectly visible. (If you want to find out more about that, check out my work on the Science Of Being Seen or SOBS for short at http://scienceofbeingseen.wordpress.com.) ONLY when we have THAT understanding, do we have an awareness that there is a genuine risk that we may not be seen.

Then when we have achieved that, we can put BOTH parts – better skills and better awareness of what goes wrong – together. Stategies can be put in place to manage the risk, including our skills-based training – slowing down, changing position to improve lines of sight, sounding the horn, being prepared to take evasive action by emergency braking and / or swerving.

So here’s the Survival Skills approach to advanced motorcycle training. Rather than push closer to the ‘edge of the envelope’, let’s increase our ‘margin for error’. Instead of using our ability to brake harder to carry more speed, let’s use our awareness of the risks of riding to exploit those skills to stop in shorter distances in emergencies. Instead of using our ability to lean over further to increase our cornering speed, let’s understand what can go wrong in a corner to hold it at the same angle in case the corner tightens – so we have ‘BANK in the BANK’, to quote one of the Nosurprise.org ‘Rhyming Reminders’. Instead of trying to perform a U-turn in a confined space, understand that making life complex increases the risks of things going wrong, so look for somewhere easier or perform a three-point turn instead.

11. Improved braking technique for all bikers

Braking technology and motorcycle design have advanced rapidly in recent years and even entry-level motorcycles in the UK almost all come with ABS as standard. Cornering ABS, traction control, and sometimes even slide control are increasingly common. What once required careful skill to avoid wheel lock-ups is now often assisted by anti-lock braking systems, linked brakes, and even cornering ABS, present on machines from 125cc upwards. Nevertheless, no electronic system can replace rider skill and confidence, just as no electronic system should be considered as a get-out-of-jail card. It’s often claimed modern tyres have improved significantly in compound and profile design, but what’s rarely said that the same time is that no tyre is better than the road surface and the article could have placed more emphasis on slippery surfaces such as metal plates, wet leaves and painted lines. The underlying principles below remain just as relevant today, and practising them will ensure that you get the most from your bike’s brakes — regardless of the technology fitted.


When I run my Survival Skills ‘Performance’ courses which seek to improve cornering skills or my ‘Urban’ which aim to equip riders for riding in towns and cities, one of the recurring issues I have to tackle for most riders is confidence with the brakes. When I learned to ride, there was good reason – if you overdid braking, you tended to fall off. Even when I originally wrote this article, both combined braking systems (CBS) and anti-lock braking systems (ABS) were uncommon and restricted to top-of-the-range machines. The vast majority of motorcycles and scooters still used conventional front and rear brakes on different circuits. But in the last few years, the pace of technological development of electronic rider aids has accelerated rapidly, and all new machines from 125 up have some kind of advanced braking system. The bad news is that numerous different systems have evolved. Right now there are linked brakes and ABS on budget machines, with sophisticated proportional linked systems and cornering ABS on the more expensive bikes. It’s impossible to keep track of every development, so whilst the advice below still applies, it’s also important to READ THE MANUAL and find out precisely what your machine is fitted with.

Some years back when I was still a basic trainer, I bought a GS500E as a runabout and spare instructor bike. With just 2000 miles on the clock, it was immaculate and the middle aged owner’s pride and joy. An hour later I was at the local Suzuki dealer purchasing some new rear brake pads. They were down to the metal! Meanwhile, the front had been so little-used you could still see the machining marks in the disc… which only goes to show it’s not only novice riders who often have some misconceptions about the use of the brakes.

As I’m talking about misconceptions, let’s blow away another. “Braking force in the dry should be split 75:25 between front and rear wheel”. Trainers delivering the UK’s Compulsory Basic Training course for new riders (CBT) often quote this ’75:25 rule’ but front-to-rear ratio depends on a number of factors, not least the style of the bike being ridden.

If you try a 75:25 emergency stop on a lightweight step-through moped or scooter, you WILL lock the front wheel. That’s because the engine is at the rear of the machine and there is little weight over the front wheel – the braking force needs to be biased towards the rear wheel for a swift stop.

But on a conventional motorcycle, the brake which does most of the work IS the front brake, but just how braking force is split depends on several factors including type of bike, how the bike is being ridden and what we’re aiming to achieve and how the machine is loaded.

The most important point to remember is that the main role of the brakes is to adjust our speed downwards. But within that simple-sounding statement lurks a lot of detail.

So let’s start with the most extreme case – the emergency stop. Now our aim is to get the bike stopped in as short a distance as possible. Here are the basic rules which apply to bike fitted with conventional as well as combined brakes:

get the bike upright

shut the throttle completely

apply the front brake smoothly

apply a little light pressure to the rear brake

progressively apply the front brake harder until maximum braking power is being generated

clutch in and LEFT foot down (so you can keep a foot on the rear brake) as the bike comes to a halt

That’s the UK system. We leave the gears alone, we concentrate on getting the most out of the brakes and we leave the clutch alone too – that gives us some engine braking too.

Here’s a key point – maximum braking force is obtained just before the tyres start to slide. And a key question – how much front brake do we apply? It depends partly on the machine. So long as the brakes are applied progressively, modern bikes can brake surprisingly hard with no danger of locking the front wheel. On a modern sports or sports-touring bike, the balance under maximum braking is near-100% front brake, near-0% rear brake – the rear wheel will begin to lift. Cruisers and fully-loaded touring bikes generally have a longer wheelbase and more weight to the rear, so allow more use of the rear brake. Lightweight trail bikes usually have relatively little weight over the front wheel and so the rear brake becomes more important. Changing the loading matters – the more weight to the rear and particularly when carrying a pillion, the more rear brake we can use. And trying to stop a classic machine will almost certainly need both brakes!

It also depends on the surface. Even in the wet, modern tyres deliver surprising amounts of grip but NO tyres, however good, are any better than the road surface. So watch the surface when braking hard – a good general rule is if it’s shiny, it’s probably slippery! So if we’re likely to need to brake hard, we’d best aim for a good bit of surface.

What do we do if a wheel does lock? Once again, this is the UK system for a non-ABS bike. If the front brake locks, RELEASE the pressure. If we remembered to brake UPRIGHT, the bike will slide in a straight line long enough for us to RELEASE the front brake and reapply it, a little more gently. We should recover full control with no more than a bit of a wobble. But if we’re leaned over or don’t respond rapidly, then it’s likely we’ll crash – I had a couple of those in my early despatching days. If we lock the rear wheel on a non-ABS bike, UK riders are taught to release it quickly. The US school of thought is to keep it locked and ride out the skid. My worry is that this applies to rear-heavy, long wheelbase machines like Harleys. My very first crash was a rear wheel lock-up and because I was using the front brake too, the rear simply turned out sideways, overtook the front and I still crashed. I could have saved that if I’d simply got off the rear brake.

But if we have a more modern machine with ABS, DON’T RELEASE the brake. The ABS will now stop us faster than you can release, then reapply the brakes.

But even with ABS, riders are still reluctant to brake hard. In fact studies show that in collisions, the rider rarely gets much over 60% of the possible braking power. Of course, in the days before ABS, then locking the front wheel was usually game over. But ABS has changed that and if we’ve got the technology then we should be able to use it.

ABS or no ABS, it’s panic grabs that cause most of the problems when braking hard, so learn not to grab the brakes – work on learning how to apply the brakes smoothly to the desired pressure, letting the suspension settle. Brakes are not on/off switches – they can and should be used subtly and smoothly. Don’t snap them on, even in an emergency. A too-sudden application can cause a skid or trigger the ABS. It will also throw our weight suddenly onto the handlebars, compresses the front suspension and front tyre suddenly, and that combination can cause the bike to go unstable. Efficient braking starts light and builds progressively – the front forks dip smoothly, we can brace our knees against the tank, and the front tyre ‘bites’ into the road surface for maximum grip. Aim for a smooth ‘one-shot routine’, not a series of jerky on-off-on actions.

After one more e-stop crash when a pedestrian ran in front of me on a zebra crossing, I took myself off to a car park and spent an hour going up and down practicing hard stops. And I’ve continued to practice ever since.

Mastering e-stops has a HUGE benefit in ordinary riding too, because we now KNOW we can brake hard if we have to. One of the recurrent faults I see on my Survival Skills advanced motorcycle training courses is a reluctance to brake on the approach to corners. What’s the most common crash on a rural road? Running into a bend too fast! We ALL misread corners and that sometimes means approaching a bit too fast. But if we have a bit of confidence to use the brakes positively – thanks to our e-stop practice – we can nearly always shed the excess speed before things get out of hand.

We need to practice using the brakes so we know how they feel under different conditions. Here are some to think about:

emergency stops

‘standard’ braking to a halt

‘standard’ braking to slow down

gentle applications for minor speed adjustments

in wet and dry conditions

downhill

solo, with a passenger, and fully loaded

I’ve already covered emergency stops, and ‘standard’ braking to a halt is similar, just less extreme, but if we time our braking right, just before we come to a standstill, we can ease off the pressure on the brakes, and ultimately come right off the front brake, gliding to a halt on just a little rear brake. The big benefit here is that the front forks rebound slowly and progressively before we stop, and the bike comes to a standstill nice and level.

Similarly, if we’re braking to lose speed, maybe for a lower speed limit or a bend, then we may need to use the brakes. The same basic front first / rear second technique is the simplest way but we also need to release the pressure progressively, to allow the front suspension to rebound smoothly. ‘Pinging’ the brakes off suddenly upsets the bike’s balance. Whenever possible, aim to complete braking early rather than late. Braking harder and later is rarely the key to riding faster – the result is far more likely to be an unsettled bike and tense rider. For example, getting the brakes off WELL BEFORE tipping into the bend means that the bike will be settled on the suspension and we’ll not be worrying about whether or not we’re going to make the corner. If we start braking early, there’s room for further corrections if we need to lose some extra speed (maybe the bend tightens up and we’ve only just been able to see that) and it frees up our brain to think about what we’re going to do next (such as find the line around the corner). Braking late and hard, we’re focused on getting the bike stopped – our attention is down under the front wheel looking at the road surface or looking at where we DON’T want to go. Getting OFF the brakes is what frees up our attention to look further ahead.

But remember – the front brake is a conventional motorcycle’s ‘stopper’ brake. So I’ll finish off with five basic rules for using the FRONT brake:

apply the front brake whilst the bike is upright – when the forks are compressed, there is less suspension movement to deal with bump, but upright in a straight line, this is a relatively minor issue. But if the forks are compressed because we’re braking hard mid-corner and the bike hits a big bump, it will tend to kick the front wheel sideways, upsetting stability and potentially causing a crash.

apply the front brake momentarily before applying the rear – this lets the front forks compress and the rear suspension extend before the rear tyre tries to grip the surface. Many rear wheel lock-ups happen when riders are braking rear brake first – as the front starts to bite, the rear lifts, loses grip and locks.

avoid applying the front brake harshly mid-corner – as well as grip issues, the forks compress, steering geometry changes and most bikes attempt to sit up which makes them want to run straight on. This is a common cause of running wide incidents in bends, and cornering ABS won’t help here.

applying the front brake mid-corner is possible IF we’re smooth – sometimes we have to slow mid-corner (maybe the road’s blocked ahead or the bend’s a lot tighter than we thought) and the front brake remains the main ‘stopper’. If we’re not already sliding the front tyre through the corner then there is SOME grip to brake – it may not be much so apply the front brake very lightly (use a little rear at the same time). Here’s the clever bit. As the speed comes down we can either MAINTAIN LEAN and turn on a progressively tighter radius (just what we need if a bend tightened) OR we can REDUCE LEAN and brake progressively hard (which will get us out of trouble if the road is blocked ahead).

make the release of the front brake as smooth as the initial application.

So schedule some general braking practice:

work on progressively building braking power from gentle to firm and back to gentle, then off the brakes altogether

practice braking and transitioning straight back onto the throttle. Try this – from 30 mph or so brake hard to a slow walking pace, then pull away again. If you progressively release the front brake as mentioned above, you should be able to move away smoothly again. Practice this until you can go from firm braking to positive throttle easily

practice emergency stops. This is probably the most important skill of all and if you haven’t done one for a while, start gently and slowly, then build speed and braking pressure steadily. If you’re not sure how to perform an emergency stop, GET SOME HELP!

Most bikes and their tyres will exceed owner abilities. So we should aim to improve our abilities to get closer to the tyres’ limits, and get confident enough in our braking technique that we can avoid snapping on the front brake in emergencies. But don’t use brakes as a performance aid. If we ride on the road as we would on a track, sooner or later we’ll come across a bit of road surface that doesn’t cooperate. In particular, braking into bends may be a great race track technique, but there’s a reason for braking upright on the road – it’s to retain control. Even with cornering ABS, the basic ‘brake upright’ rules still apply.

10. Counter-steering and motorcycle cornering

Has that much changed in the last twenty years since this article was first written? We’re told that motorcycles have gained better tyres, better suspension and stiffer chassis, but I’m not convinced. Jumping from a bike built in 2000 to a similar machine from 2025, you’d be able to ride it in much the same way. But go back from 2000 twenty five years to the sort of bikes we were riding in the mid-70s and you’re looking at a whole different ball game of dubious tyres, bouncy suspension and bendy frames. Even so, and despite increasingly sophisticated electronic rider aids, the fundamentals of how a motorcycle steers have not changed. If anything, the ability to steer decisively and accurately is more important now, not less, because bikes are so much mor forgiving.

Electronics can manage grip and stability, but they do not steer the bike; tyre construction can make steering lighter and quicker, but it does not remove the need for precise inputs. In fact, modern machines often demand better steering control; hesitant or inaccurate steering still cause problems, but now the rider is far more likely to run out of space rather than grip.


Counter-steering and motorcycle cornering

You’d think there would be enough explanations of counter-steering out there on the web, but the same questions and misunderstandings turn up over and over, so each time I find myself answering those questions as well as dealing with the misunderstandings and arguments. So here’s the ultimate Question and Answer primer on counter-steering from Survival Skills advanced rider training. The basics of steering a motorcycle are covered in the first few questions, but I answer more specific questions in more detail, as well as covering the objections futher down. If all you really want is a quickfire explanation of what counter-steering is, and how to do it, then you really only need to read the first couple of questions and their answers.

Q – How does a bike go round a bend?

A – Here are the basics:

to corner, a bike needs to be leaned over
to lean over, the bike needs to ‘roll’ from the vertical
counter-steering generates the roll that makes the bike lean
once leaned over, the bike will turn in a big circle (rather like an ice cream cone)
for a fixed radius of turn, there will be only one lean angle that matches a particular speed
That is really all we need to know. But in a bit more detail… in motion, a motorcycle cornering needs to lean – it balances the tendency of machine and rider to fall over under its own weight to the INSIDE of the turn against the force of momentum which makes the bike’s mass try to go straight on which makes the bike want to fall over to the OUTSIDE of the turn (what’s often known as centrifugal force). [Pedant alert – this article got quoted online, and one critic had nothing to say except to say: “Centrifugal force… a motorcycle would have to be pretty imaginative to balance itself against an imaginary force… people giving a “scientific” explanation of how something works would be well advised to understand the science first.”

Hands up, I’m guilty of using a “populist” term for something that people ‘feel’. But, just to keep him happy, I’ll quote someone who posted a response: “I’m a scientist who uses a centrifuge on a daily basis. I have a very simple definition of centrifugal (sic) force. It is simply momentum (Newtonian mechanics) constrained by rotation”. Thanks, Alistair. [/Pedant alert]

But to reach that lean angle in the first place, we have to make a steering input by turning the handlebars.

Q – Why is it called counter-steering?

A – Because we are applying a force to the bars which turns the front wheel right to go left, and turns it left to go right! The easiest way to remember what you need to do is that you need to PUSH the side of the bars in the direction that you want to go – ie:

you PUSH the LEFT handlebar to go LEFT
you PUSH the RIGHT handlebar to go RIGHT
For this reason it is sometimes called ‘push’ steering, and you might also hear it called ‘positive’ steering. But it’s most commonly referred to as counter-steering and they are all the same thing.

Q – Anything else that I MUST know?

A – Yes, three things:

first of all, a motorcycle in motion is straight line stable. That is, hands-off, it will always try to go in a straight line. This stability is built-in, to ensure that the bike recovers from hitting bumps or gusts of wind, particularly at high speed. This is hardly ever mentioned during explanations of counter-steering, but it’s a key point because it also means that the bike tries to pick itself up out of a corner. And that’s why we need to keep a reduced counter-steering pressure on the bars to maintain our chosen lean angle and line around a corner.
second, this self-righting tendency also means we rarely have to counter-steer OUT of a bend – we simply release ALL the pressure on the bars and allow the bike to steer itself straight. We really only have to apply an opposite counter-steering input when flicking the bike from one lean angle to the other, such as in an S bend or when taking evasive swerving action.
thirdly, the LONGER we push on the bars, the greater the lean angle the bike will achieve :: fourthly, how HARD we push on the bars affects the RATE of roll. In other words, if we only want to lean the bike slowly into a bend, then a gentle pressure on the bars suffices. But if we need to change direction quickly, then a rapid rate of roll is required and that means a much firmer push on the bars.
So to sum up:

push right, go right… push left, go left…
push longer, lean over more
push harder, change direction faster
reduce the pressure to hold the chosen lean
remove the pressure to allow the bike to return to the upright position
Now, if you want, you can stop there because that really is all you need to know! But if you want to see the sort of questions that people ask about steering, read on!

Q – How does counter-steering work?

A – You may see a very simple demonstration with a spinning bicycle wheel, which suggests it’s down to gyroscopic forces. In fact, that’s not the full answer – gyroscopic force contributes but the major forces (some 30 to 40 times stronger) are inertia and camber thrust. Let’s say we want to turn left. Counter-steering and applying a push to the left end of the bars turns the front wheel to point the right. This sets off a cascade of events:

the angled front tyre’s contact patch pulls the front wheel to the right
but momentum always makes the mass of the bike and rider try to go straight on so that the centre of gravity of the bike is no longer directly above the line on which the bike is supported between the tyres – the bike will fall to the LEFT
because the bike is leaning to the LEFT, the front tyre also leans to the left, even though it’s pointing right
the contact patch of the front tyre is out of line with the steering axis and friction on the tyre swings the front wheel into the corner – the bike is leaning left and the front wheel is now also pointing left
now the machine will turn left
In effect, the bike ‘trips up’ on its own front wheel. The final ‘balance’ which the bike settles into differs from machine to machine but nearly always requires a reduced counter-steering pressure on the left-hand bar to keep the bike steering to the left.

That (leaving out all the maths!) is what happens in a nutshell.

But again, keeping it simple, counter-steering generates the lean that makes the motorcycle follow a curved path and then a reduced pressure keeps it turning on our chosen line.

Q – Any advice on where/how to practice?

A – Find a straight, empty road or large carpark – you really need around 50 metres minimum length for this, and ideally around 20 m width too, so an EMPTY carpark is ideal. Don’t try it when Sainsburys is busy or down your local high street. Keep well away from any other vehicles.

Get up to a reasonable speed – around 20 – 25 mph is fast enough for a first attempt if you are in a car park. Change up to 2nd gear, if you hang onto first gear and shut the throttle you’ll get a big wobble with engine braking. Brace your knees against the tank, a reasonable grip (not a death grip) on the bars and keep elbows loose. Remember – the amount of effort needed to turn the bike at low speeds is negligible, nor do you need to turn the bars very far. Make sure you use a VERY GENTLE push – the amount of force needed is only that required to push an empty bottle over – not very much. Just use one push on the first few runs so you can learn how much force to use. Practice doing this a few times until you start to get the feel for it.

Increase the speed (if you have room) and feel how the effort needed gradually increases. When you are comfortable with the amount of effort involved, try a left – right manoeuvre, then a mini-slalom. This is a valuable exercise to repeat regularly or when you get a new bike to ensure you can steer accurately.

Next find a nice straight clear road and try counter-steering in a gentle slalom at slightly higher speeds. Don’t frighten car drivers by doing it in front of them. As you get more confident, you’ll be able to steer the bike harder and at higher speeds. It’s much easier to experiment on straight roads to start with. Move onto bends once you’ve got the feel. It’s best to start on a corner you already know, one with a good clear view, and one that’s not too fast – something around 30 – 40 mph is ideal. Ride round it a few times just to refamiliarise yourself. Stay at a speed and on a line that feels comfortable, away from the extremes of the kerb and the white line – remember we are trying a new technique and need leeway for errors.

Make sure your posture is nice (wrists and elbows loose, knees gripping the tank), approach the corner as normal, getting your braking done in a straight line before you get there to get the bike settled. Remember to turn in on the power, and to keep the power on gently through the corner. Finally, making sure the road is empty, try counter-steering – just as the road curves at your normal turn-in point, talk to yourself and tell yourself to push right, go right (or push left, go left). Remember, it’s a very gentle pressure and even so, you’ll almost certainly find that you turned along a much tighter line than you expected (hence the advice to only do in a bend where you can see there is no traffic).

Q – I understand counter-steering and use it all the time – but I find when the bike is leaned over I have to keep a force applied to the bars to keep it on line

A – This is the effect of the self-centering steering geometry. Most modern bikes are set up to be straight line stable to cope with bumps and gusts of wind which kick the front wheel to the side. This means a small amount of steering effort is required to hold a steady line against the bike’s natural tendency to straighten up. It also makes for a nice, controlled feel mid-corner. Some of the 1980’s bikes with 16″ front wheels oversteered – as they began to lean, they suddenly ‘flopped’ into corners. Very unpleasant.

Q – Somebody told me I need to oversteer into a corner if it tightens

A – I think they probably meant ‘counter-steer’. Either that or a confusion of terms! Oversteer is the tendency of the bike to deviate from a CONSTANT radius turn by turning tighter into the turn without rider input. You may still be applying a force to maintain a constant radius turn, but it is not called oversteering! In fact, pushing the left bar through a left turn to keep the bike on line, we’d be correcting for UNDERSTEER – if you didn’t the bike would run wide.

Q – However hard I push, I can’t counter-steer.

A – You’re almost certainly leaning on the bars. Your arms need to work like opposing pistons – as one goes forward to push, the other has to come backward at the same time or the bars cannot turn. You can push as hard as you like but if you’re leaning on the bars, you’re cancelling out your own effort. Try to brace your knees on the tank and stiffen your brake to keep your weight off them.

Q – Someone told me you can pull instead of pushing

A – Counter-steering means we turn the bars opposite to the direction you wish to turn. This is usually achieved by pushing on the inside bar, but it’s perfectly possible to pull on the outside bar too. It gives extra leverage at high speeds or when a very rapid change of direction (such as a swerve) is needed.

Q – Do you push DOWN on the bar, or AWAY from you or what? All my bike does is go the wrong way.

A – First off, push AWAY, don’t push DOWN on the bars – you need to turn the steering around the pivot point of the steering stem. Think what plane the bars move in – if you push down you only try to bend the handlebar. When riders have problems steering sports bikes, it’s almost always because they are leaning on the low bars andpushing down rather than turning the bars. The answer is to bend the elbows so as to turn the bars rather than try to push down.

Q – At what speed does counter-steering work?

A – counter-steering works at speeds above a slow walking pace. The faster we go, the greater the effort needed to steer the bike. At 20 mph, we can barely feel the necessary pressure. When I do my counter-steering demos at around 25 mph, such a light push is needed I demonstrate by using just one finger on the bars. At normal road speeds, the pressure needed goes up and it’s easier to feel what’s happening. On the track at 100 mph, it becomes increasingly hard work to steer.

Q – I can honestly say that I have never consciously counter-steered in my life and thus far I seem to have survived. Nobody worried about this counter-steering malarkey when I learned to ride 30 years ago, and it was never taught on training courses.

A – Well, whether you think you do, or whether you think you don’t, you do counter-steer. And so was everyone thirty years ago. The physics behind counter-steering apply to all bikes, regardless of age, size of front wheel or width of rubber. Older bikes certainly handle differently to modern bikes, but counter-steering has been known about since the earliest days of the 20th century. In fact, it was first described by the Wright Brothers when they built bicycles.

The reason some experienced riders believe they don’t counter-steer is simply because the amount the bars actually turn at road speeds and lean angles is tiny, it needs little pressure, and the actual steering input is very short-lived. Unless we are consciously looking for it, counter-steering is unconscious.

The reason is wasn’t taught is because it wasn’t in the police syllabus, so it never got transferred to CBT either. I used to teach it on DAS courses back in the mid-90s because it helped trainees improve their steering, and I cover it on post-test training. I’m yet to find someone who hasn’t benefited from counter-steering if they weren’t already using it.

Q – The notion of deliberately turning the bars in the opposite direction going round a tight bend is just not on

A – Well, whether you think you do, or whether you think you don’t counter-steer, you do. But if you don’t want to try out and practice something you’ve read on a web-site (and I can understand that) then get someone to demonstrate how it works. Any competent instructor should be able to explain and get you using counter-steering.

Q – I’ve been told you can’t counter-steer a cruiser / I’ve been told you can’t counter-steer on a scooter / I’ve been told it’s a sportsbike technique

A – ANY motorcycle counter-steers. Scooters, 125s, sportsbikes, tourers. Even cruisers and choppers where the bars are at shoulder height. It even works on a bicycle. Be careful on scooters and other lightweights though, they steer very rapidly because they weigh very little!

Q – These techniques are race stuff. Counter-steering is something you only do on trackdays and sportsbikes.

A – See above. The more skills you understand and can use, the better. It doesn’t mean that your knowledge obliges you to ride fast, but if a corner tightens, or you need to swerve to avoid a collision, then the techniques to change direction hard and in control are very useful indeed.

Q – I tried counter-steering just the once and scared myself silly – I nearly lost control, so that was the only time

A – Well, whether you think you do, or whether you think you don’t… etc etc. But it sounds like you pushed too hard and scared yourself! Be warned, you really do NOT need much effort to generate a surprisingly rapid response. Be gentle whilst trying it out.

Q – Turning the bars the opposite way will make the bike very unstable and it’s actually hard to do at speed. I steer by weighting the footpegs.

A – As above. Pushing down on the footpeg to steer can ONLY have any effect if the rider isn’t sitting rigid in the seat. Pushing down on the left peg tends to push our body in the opposite direction. Once again, the main problem is that we’re trying to move the bike’s not-inconsiderable mass via the very short lever of the footpeg. The lighter the machine, the more effect it can have but it’s most effective combined with counter-steering. Now even a heavy bike can be made to roll very quickly, and a quick roll means a rapid change of direction.

Q – I’m inclined to continue to rely on my instincts – if it ain’t broke don’t fix it!

A – Same answer – you’re counter-steering whether you realise it or not. But the benefit of properly understanding how a motorcycle steers is that you can improve your riding by being more fully in control of it. Aside from sharpening up your lines around corners and giving you more space to steer round them in, counter-steering is also very useful is making the transition from upright to full lean angle VERY quickly, which if you consider it is a good ‘get out of trouble’skill. It’s vital mid-corner to be able to change line when you realise the bend is tightening up. Counter-steering stops you running wide. It’s also a good collision avoidance technique.

Learning about counter-steering myself dramatically improved my own bike handlng skills on rural roads, and reduced the risks in town too.

Q – I steer by leaning into the corner.

A – Ah, the old chestnut. Sorry, it’s almost (but not quite) impossible! Us racer, trainer and author Keith Code has built a bike with a second pair of fixed bars to prove this, a report on which you can find (at least as I write) at http://www.popularmechanics.com/popmech/out/0102BOODWFAP.html

Once holding the fixed bars, the rider can only affect the bike by shifting his body mass to one side or the other. A quick bit of Newtonian physics will show that if we lean to the LEFT, the counter-effect is that the bike will lean to the RIGHT. Equal and opposite forces and so on. Peg weighting does exactly the same thing.

Now when the bike shifts away from upright, because we’re not holding the real bars, the front wheel is free to pivot around the steering head. They ‘wiggle’ momentarily in the opposite direction, then swing slightly into the corner, and now the bike rolls around in a curved path. With a bit of practice, it is possible to make some semi-controlled changes of direction through body steering. The fundamental difference is that we can apply far more force via the bars than we can by leaning our body mass. The important point is not that body steering doesn’t work (because it sort-of does), it’s the very slow RATE OF ROLL (and hence slow change of direction) and the relative the lack of control.

So why do many experienced riders claim they turn by leaning? Quite simple. Without realising it, as they lean into the corner they are pressing on the inside bar, and so quite unconsciously they are counter-steering.

Q – Most of the time I’m riding I don’t think about counter-steering. Am I doing something wrong?

A – Nope. Most of the time I’m riding I never give counter-steering a thought either, but it is a good thing to work on consciously from time to time. That’s so that when we arrive in the midst of an “oh sh!t” situation, we use counter-steering positively without having to think about it first.

It’s like being able to brake to the point of locking the front brake at will – its not something I do in everyday riding, but just every now and again it comes in useful.

Learning new skills is all about giving yourself that little bit of an edge. But I quite take your point about not doing it on the advice contained in a website – to be perfectly honest given the amount of discussion and partial disagreement this subject always raises, I’d be a bit wary too.

Q – So what advantages are there to counter-steering?

A – Well, if I haven’t given you enough positives already, the main plus is that once we know how it works we can choose WHEN to use it consciously and positively. For example, if we can change direction faster, we can keep the bike upright deeper into a corner. By taking this later apex line, we can see further and have a better idea of where the road goes. The later apex gets the bike upright sooner, and we can get back on the power earlier, getting better drive out of the bend. corners. Not least it allows you the option to keep away from potentially dangerous extremes of position to either side of the road – in other words it gives you more space to choose from on the road.

Q – But all we really have to know is that we ‘push left to go left’ and ‘push right to go right’. Correct?

A – Correct – which is why I said you could stop reading after the first few paragraphs. Counter-steering is a fundamental bike control technique, and from a purely practical point of view, about as straightforward a technique as anything else we do whilst sat on contradictory, non-intuitive motorcycles. But it helps enormously if we can get the technique as automatic as using the brakes or throttle.

Unfortunately the theory is counter-intuitive and that’s why so many riders have real problems accepting it’s how bikes steer.

Q – Haven’t we done this all before?

A – Yes, many times, and no doubt instructors after me will continue to have to explain counter-steering to disbelieving riders.

Q – This is all too much for me – my head hurts

A – These things are much easier to demonstrate than to explain! Check out my cornering courses!

09. The Salami Principle and Practice Makes Permanent – the key to learning new skills

Reviewing this article in the context of what I know now about skill acquisition indicates that I could have added some useful nuance to these ideas. We now know that practice is most effective when it is accompanied by clear, specific feedback, so that errors are identified early rather than being unknowingly embedded. It is also more robust when practice is varied and contextual, with changes in speed, environment or constraints, because this improves transfer to real-world riding rather than competence in a single exercise. Mental rehearsal and visualisation have been shown to reinforce physical practice, particularly where time, space or confidence are limited. Just as importantly, riders benefit from deliberate self-reflection — asking what has improved, what still feels weak, and why — rather than assuming progress is automatic. Finally, long-term improvement depends less on knowing what to practise than on sustaining the motivation to practise, which is best supported by small, achievable goals and visible progress rather than endless repetition of the same exercise.

But essentially, the underlying problem it addresses has not changed; skills do not “stick” simply because we attended a course. Subsequent research into motor learning, habit formation, and behaviour change has largely reinforced these ideas rather than replaced them. Terms such as chunking, spaced repetition, and deliberate practice are now commonplace, but the principles remain the same.


The Salami Principle and Practice Makes Permanent – the key to learning new skills

Each of my courses ends with a debrief where I remind the trainee of the aim of the course (ie, what they wanted to get out of it and what I thought they needed), how we approached those goals, what was achieved, what remained weak, and the need to continue working AFTER the course. The last point is one of the most important, but also one of the most overlooked. Any course of training has a limited effect… unless the trainee commits to continually reviewing and practicing what was covered.

Training courses require three steps:

the first stage is ‘preparation’ which is all about the behind-the-scenes work that the trainer does to prepare for the course
the second stage is’engagement’, which very briefly indicates that the training has to be interesting AND relevant to the trainee.
and third is ’embedding’, which is whether or not the training is delivered in a way that ‘sticks’.

“Preparation is all” is something you’ll hear regularly. Actually, it’s important but it’s not everything, and even a technically well-prepared course can fall down because the content is wrong for the student (or the trainer fails to show the trainee why it IS relevant). Or it can fail because the worthwhile content is boring.

But even if a course is well-prepared, well-delivered and relevant, there’s no guarantee it’ll stick. It needs to become ’embedded’.

The first version of this article, written quite some time ago recognised the need to get the trainee to do some work to help with this embedding. I talked about the need for practice, and I used a phrase I first heard from one of my earliest trainees, who happened herself to be a horse riding instructor. She said:

“Practice doesn’t make perfect. What it actually does is makes PERMANENT. So if you practice the wrong techniques, you won’t get better, you will only make the wrong techniques a permanent part of your performance. And that’s why you need to practice the perfect.”

That actually made an awful lot of sense. But practice alone isn’t enough. Training needs to be structured in a way that breaks a particular skill down into manageable chunks, which build back together in a logical order. This is something I’ve been doing since the earliest days and one day at the end of the session, I was explaining how the trainee could use this approach to schedule meaningful practice. I called it ‘compartmentalisation’ and he said: “Ah, the Salami Principle” and explained that thin-sliced, a salami is delicious and digestible. But try to eat the entire salami in one go, and we’ll simply make ourselves sick.

The Salami Principle applies to riding. Don’t try to practice everything at once, but remember the structure of the training and how it was broken down into simpler techniques which can be practiced one at a time. Even if we think we can remember everything, when still in the ‘practice makes permanent’ stage of development, it’s all too common for it all to fall apart again. Bang goes the trainee’s new-found confidence.

Slow riding skills are a good example. What do riders do when they want to practice slow control? They go out and attempt U-turns. They often do it on a new bike that they’ve never attempted a U-turn on before. What happens? They fall off. Why? Because a U-turn is the END product (albeit a pretty useless one in itself) of a sequence of skills, NOT the starting point. It’s only a moment’s thought to realise that controlling a bike around any tight turn needs sub-skills:

posture - gripping the tank with the knees and keeping the shoulders, elbows, wrists and neck loose
the ability to slip the clutch
the ability to balance clutch and throttle together
the ability to ride the bike at a consistent speed by controlling speed with the rear brake
the ability to look into the turn
knowing where to look into the turn and what NOT to look at
knowing how and why we should use counter-weighting
understanding where and when to make steering inputs
being comfortable with the bike leaning

All those can be practiced in that order, working on one skill at a time until we are happy we’ve got the hang of it. Some can be done at a standstill – posture and turning our head for example, or looking for ‘reference points’ to help make a tight turn and not get distracted by the kerb. Only when each is mastered do we move onto the next one. And then the skill set is pulled together using easy exercises like the Figure of 8 where there is plenty of room to start fast and wide before pulling the circles in tighter.

But set off straight into a U-turn without having practiced and mastered these skills and things can – and do -go wrong very quickly indeed.

But it was rather more recently that I discovered why practicing makes permanent. It’s known as the ‘Ebbinhaus Forgetting Curve’ and it dates from as far back as 1885, when Hermann Ebbinghaus first realised that we rapidly forget most of what we just learned, retaining relatively little from any learning experience.

What he showed over a century ago remains true to day. Any training course can fail to bring about lasting behaviour change, even when the first two stages of training – preparation and engagement – are well-designed, and even when the student has a strong intention to change.

Likewise with rider training. It’s incredibly easy to slip back into old habits within a very short time. What can be done to try to maximise the chance that the skills learned in the session are actually embedded? There are two possible solutions.

The first – also discovered by Ebbinghaus – is known as ‘over-learning’. The idea is that a particular skill is repeated over and over, beyond what would normally be seen as necessary to master it. To some extent, that is built into my courses – I tend to repeat the same ‘trigger phrases’ many times and I try to ensure that the trainee gets plenty of opportunity to work on particular skills during the session. But there’s a risk that if the trainee thinks he or she is simply repeating what’s already mastered, rather than embedding the necessary skills, the training can become boring and demotivating. U-turn practice, anyone?

The second is to repeat the training. Ebbinghaus discovered that after five re-runs, retention becomes near-perfect. This is the approach often taken by safety-critical industries like a nuclear plant.

Unfortunately, it should also be fairly obvious that when delivering my kind of one-off training course I have a bit of a problem. Unless I can persuade trainees to come back for a refresher, I generally only get to see them once. So now the onus is on the trainee to ensure that having completed the course, they actively continue to practice what was learned.

How can I encourage that? One way is to provide structured notes both before and after the course. The first lays out the content we will be covering, the second – which also offers a structured path for continued development – repeats the information in terms of “what we worked on”.

And I have a trick up my sleeve. Rather than send on the review immediately after the course, I send it ten days or so after the course. Why? If they read it next day, when their retention rate from the course is up near 100%, they skim through it, say “oh yes, I remember that”, and then promptly forget it. With the delayed review, the forgetting curve has kicked in so I’m REMINDING them of what was achieved. There is a better chance the trainee will read the notes properly and thus gain more from the feedback.

But of course, ultimately it all depends on the trainee – once they’re headed head home, if I’ve failed to drive home the ‘practice makes permanent’ point and if they think “that’s it, I’m trained now”, then there is a significant risk that in fact they’ll slither rapidly down that forgetting curve.

So, here are the takeaways.

If we accept that we can improve our riding through learning new techniques, then it’s essential that we practice to embed what we learned into long-lasting improvements to skill and confidence. And if we accept the need for practice, then break it all down into the into the simpler, relatively straightforward elements that were learned, and practice each part of the skill-set. Then move onto the next area of skills.

So if you’re reading this post-training, wherever it might be, and whoever might have trained you, ask yourself, “am I reviewing and practicing what I have learned frequently enough?” Schedule some time to go out on a regular basis, to think about your riding, give yourself a goal of a specific part of your riding to improve – and then practice, practice, practice.

08. How far is too far?

When this piece was first written, the language of “cognitive load”, “human factors” and “decision fatigue” was not yet commonplace in rider training. Since then, research and experience have only strengthened the case made here: that learning on a motorcycle is limited not by ambition or mileage targets, but by the rider’s capacity to concentrate, absorb feedback and recover. High-mileage, endurance-style training made sense in an operational policing context; its uncritical transfer into civilian advanced training remains questionable. Traffic environments are now busier, bikes more capable, and distractions more numerous — making the question “how far is too far?” more relevant than ever. Mileage alone is a poor proxy for training value.


How far is too far?

There is undoubtedly a fine balance to draw between theory and practical time on the bike but good teaching demands both. Genuine riding exercises have a definite place but they require explanation. Simply piling on the miles is not good teaching technique, just as endless ‘chalk and talk’ offers limited opportunity to practice the theory.

Reading an industry mag some years back, the star letter writer – a training school owner – referred to a discussion with the owner of another school who, he claims, boasted of controlling his costs by: “padding out talks and never covering more than 50-60 miles during a full day’s training”. The letter writer, by contrast, claimed to offer “maximum on-road instruction” which reminded me of an ex-police instructor who claimed never to cover less than 200 miles in a day when out with his trainees.

So how far is too far?

There’s a simple answer to this. If the trainee is getting tired, then the session has gone too far.

Fatigue is dangerous. When we’re tired we make mistakes. Think back to your car lessons and remember how knackered you were after a two-hour session behind the wheel. Or remember how exhausting CBT and each day’s subsequent training was. As concentration slips, learning deteriorates and far worse, the risk of a riding error is magnified manyfold.

An experienced WORKING rider (such as a police rider, an instructor or a courier) may well be able to ride all day, but I worry when I hear of trainees doing eight-hour days and 200 mile rides. If the rider averages a reasonable 40 mph, that’s 5 hours riding time. 200 miles would have been a fair distance to ride in a day when I was despatching. These kind of distances will push typical commuting or recreational riders to (and possibly beyond) the limit.

And we still have to fit in the theory training, any off-road exercises and some breaks. Given the need for rest stops, I really wondered what the 200-miles-a-day instructor was actually managing to deliver in his eight hour day. It’s a lot more informative to ride short stretches for ten or fifteen minutes with interim debriefs whilst everything is still fresh in the trainee’s head, than hack fifty miles up the road between cafes. Well-designed theory sessions, as well as short off-road practice sessions, give the trainees a physical rest and a mental change of gear.

It’s also often overlooked by training schools that whilst the instructor is likely to be close to home, the trainee may well have had an early start and a long ride to get to the school. Even starting from an inn just ten minutes from the circuit, I had to set off at 7am for a race school to arrive in time to complete the formalities. By 1pm – six hours later – I’d spent two hours on track and another two hours in briefings and debriefings, and I was shattered. That’s why my own Survival Skills advanced rider training courses are pegged at five hours; beyond that fatigue sets in and learning drops off. And trainees have to get home again! I had 170 miles to ride back after that session. I left at 2pm and missed the afternoon session completely.

The perfect balance will vary from rider to rider since different trainees respond to different approaches. Too much talk is a turn-off for some, who want to get on the bike and ride, but others actually want to talk – they may want to discuss particular issues at length or be willing and able to learn from in-depth question and answer sessions. It’s up to the instructor to vary the lesson to suit each client, and not to make a teacher-centric decision about how the course should proceed.

The least charitable view would be that trainers running high mileage courses are actually padding out the lack of theory by simply keeping the trainee sitting on the bike all day! After all, spending a few ££s on another five litres of unleaded is much easier than actually writing a decent syllabus and putting together a lesson plan for the day. But mostly I get the feeling it’s simply lack of imagination and a case of “that’s the way it’s always been done” and yet another hangover from police training.

07. What’s the goal of post-test training?

This article was first written over twenty years ago and lightly updated since, but the central question it poses remains unresolved: what should post-test motorcycle training actually be for? While machines, testing regimes and training organisations have evolved — with ABS, traction control and more formalised “advanced” pathways now the norm — newly qualified riders still emerge with gaps in confidence, control and understanding.

“Do they know what they’re doing, do they know why, and are they managing risk?” is as concise and useful a training lens as any modern coaching framework. It also aligns neatly with contemporary human-factors thinking, even if I did not label it as such at the time.

The tension between rider-centred skill-building and training aimed at meeting an external standard has not gone away. If anything, it has become more important to challenge, as technology increasingly masks weaknesses rather than addressing them.


What’s the goal of post-test training?

Over the years, I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about the goal of training after passing the motorcycle test. Obviously we want to improve the skills and knowledge that a rider gained on basic training. But what does that really mean in terms of what we deliver? Are we looking for perfection? Or should we be looking for a pragmatic approach to riding?

When I moderated a riding skills forum, we regularly used to get requests for help with a riding issue. In one instance, the request came from a very newly qualified rider on his new motorcycle:

"I passed my test 2 weeks ago tomorrow and am really a complete novice as I'd never ridden before I started my training which was basically 3 lessons. Anyway I bought a 6 month old Thundercat as my first bike after a lot of worrying that the bike was too powerful for a 1st bike. I want to know what tips you can give to a new rider... I'm really struggling with a few things in particular:

1. setting off I'm not sure what revs to use, and find it hard to keep the throttle steady... I panic that the the front wheel is going to fly up and throw me off

2. turning into a side road I was taught to use 1st but it just doesn't feel right as I'm very jerky on the throttle

3. which brake should I use? For example on country lanes if I want to slow down from a speed above 30 ish, is it the front? I worry that wheels are going to lock and start sliding"

Now, it should be pretty obvious that we have here a rider who has clearly identified some major problems with his ability to control the machine. So I responded with a series of practical suggestions.

I referred the rider back to some of the exercises he would have performed on CBT including some very simple straight line stopping and starting exercises to help get used to the clutch on the new machine. I also advised him to use a slipping clutch when turning into side roads (what would have been taught for the U-turn exercise, so nothing new) and a reminder about basic braking technique (front first, rear second, then a progressive squeeze of the front to slow at the required rate). I also suggested that the rider look for some personalised training to fix the problems sooner rather than later.

Of course, I wasn’t the only one with advice. I generally try not to criticise other people involved in rider training too often but in this case the response of one of our IAM observers made me blow my top. He started by offering some useful – but theoretical – advice, but then qualified it by saying:

“Unless you really do feel that you can’t manage I would delay any extra training until you’ve been riding 5-6 weeks or so. You’ll be amazed at how different it will be then and you’ll get more out of any training you do.”

Of course, there’s a very big assumption there. And that’s that our wobbly novice is still in one piece after that period.

And then he suggested that at the end of this learning period the new rider would then be in a position to benefit from advanced training with the IAM.

As I’ve said many times, there are two ways of approaching rider training:

a pragmatic ‘improve what’s weak’ approach
building standard skills to test against a set riding standard

Either are valid in certain circumstances. But which is more appropriate here?

I think the answer is pretty obvious. A client-centred course, of the sort offered by the Survival Skills Confidence: BUILDER one-day training course, is more likely to address the novice rider’s needs.

The mention of the Thundercat dates the event, and since then I’ve been told “ah, but the IAM has changed a lot”. That is undoubtedly true, there has certainly been a drive to improve standards and consistency but what hasn’t changed is that the organisation still promotes a brand of training style of riding which has passing the test as its goal.

At the risk of provoking a chorus of “he would say that, wouldn’t he?”, if you think you have a problem with your riding, ask yourself where you’ll get the better support; from an independent trainer who’s prepared to focus the training on YOUR needs, or from an organisation that commits you to pursuing their own goal?