74. Overtaking on left-handers – experts only or best avoided?

Some things don’t seem to change. And how motorcyclists kill themselves is one of those things. I said in the article that “half of out-of-town fatalities result from overtakes that go wrong” is valid, and the data that the UK’s DfT continues to collect reinforces this point. Overtaking generally is rarely ‘necessary’, and overtaking around a left-hand bend is even less so. Remember, in most cases a better, safer opportunity will appear within moments.


Overtaking on left-handers – experts only or best avoided?

Back in 2005 and 2006, one of the best series of articles on advanced riding techniques was penned by Andy Morrison from Rapid Training, and published in Bike magazine. But when he talked about the technique of overtaking in left-handers in February 2006, I think he went the proverbial ‘bridge too far’. He stated plainly enough that it’s dangerous but then goes on to assert that it’s a manoeuvre within the grasp of the expert rider. The article gave the impression that all that’s needed is a high level of technical skill and judgement yet whatever dissenting voices might say, there is something every one of us should understand: contrary to claims elsewhere, overtaking is NEVER, EVER ‘safe’. Even if we can be reasonably sure WE won’t make a mistake, when overtaking there are always other humans involved and one thing we can be sure of is that humans can and DO make errors. An overtake ALWAYS exposes us to the risk of someone else’s mistake.

I read the article and the first thing that struck me was that it focused on technical execution. Yet to my mind, understanding that the skills to carry out a tricky overtake are complex is far less important than developing our understanding of risk and our ability to see that technically complicated manoeuvres are more likely to go wrong. It’s our ability to make a realistic risk assessment that allows us to place a manoeuvre on the risk / benefit scale. To my mind, for a relatively limited benefit, this one is far over towords the risky end. We really need to understand the difference between ‘need’ and ‘nice’.

Overtaking generally sits further towards the ‘nice to do’ end of the spectrum than the ‘need to do’ end – it’s very rarely an absolute ‘must-do’. You may have heard people say that “if I didn’t overtake, I might as well not be on a bike”, or that “I overtake because I want to demonstrate I can make progress”.

Personally, I think they are deeply flawed reasons. My own thinking – based on that risk / benefit calculation – is that we need to balance the risks that might arise through making the overtake, with the risks of staying put. If there’s no particular problem with following – for example, when moving in a steady stream of traffic – the less-risky option is nearly always choosing NOT to pass.

I’d suggest that overtaking only begins to move towards the ‘need to do’ end of the scale if sitting behind a vehicle puts us at greater risk than making the overtake. Maybe we’re following a tractor on a rural road, when a queue of traffic begins to form behind us. If a relatively straightforward opportunity to pass arises and we don’t take it, we are now part of the problem. The chances are that someone will try to overtake both the tractor and our bike. That makes the overtake more difficult for the driver, and potentially increases our own risk. So if we can see a way to set up an overtake in such a way to minimise the risk, does that tip the balance? Perhaps. The crux of the matter is “if we can see a way to set up an overtake in such a way to minimise the risk”. Too many overtakes are assessed from the “what do I gain” perspective first, with risk trailing a very poor second.

And so we come to overtaking out of left-hand bend. Compared with setting up a pass out of a right-hand corner, overtaking out of a left hand bend generates a lot of “What ifs…?” that aren’t easy to answer.

We start by setting up the overtake by sitting to the nearside, looking up the inside of the vehicle ahead. The article pointed out problems of dead ground (that is, the areas that are blind to our search) but however thorough our search, we need to be absolutely clear that if we cannot see over the vehicle, there’s a blind spot ahead of it on the offside. As we move out to the right to commit to the pass, that blindspot doesn’t go away – it simply moves. There is ALWAYS this blind spot.

Some years ago, I watched a rider set up exactly this pass around a sweeping left-hand bend from the car. His line-of-sight up the nearside was good, but he couldn’t see what I could, thanks to my driving position offset to the right. It was the local postie climbing into his bright red post office van that was pulled up in a layby on the other side of the road. As the rider moved across behind the truck, the post office van started to move forward. The rider came out from behind the truck just as the PO van moved into the road.

And of course, if a vehicle could pull out, the one we’re overtaking could turn in, and we may not be aware of the turning for the same reason. This is another point I always make – overtaking ALWAYS relies on the driver we’re passing to do what we predict. Setting up an overtake where we’re visible in the driver’s interior or right-hand door mirror means that there’s at least a chance the driver will know we’re there. But sat to the nearside of the vehicle we’re about to pass, not only are we far more difficult to see, few drivers would expect to find us overtaking around the outside a moment later. We really do need to hang back long enough to clear the view right along our path and eliminate any openings.

And there’s a further problem. It’s the pesky extra warning about making sure the road not just clear but that we can “expect it to remain clear”. The neatly-drawn diagrams in the magazine showed how the rider would need to ‘visually sweep’ the road ahead of the lorry before attempting the overtake. Although the text talked about “far enough ahead” the diagrams showed a distance of just a couple of lorry-lengths. I know the diagrams were drawn distorted to make the point (rather like the ones showing how a wider position gives a better view in ‘Motorcycle Roadcraft’), and Andy did mention the danger of meeting an oncoming car head-on, but what wasn’t emphasised was just HOW far ahead we need to see.

Let’s do a few quick sums. Let’s assume the truck is travelling at 45 mph. That’s 20 metres per second. Let’s assume we pass the truck at 60 mph – we’re thus travelling 15 mph faster than the truck (6.7 m/s). Assuming a typical HGV (16.5 metres long), it’ll take us approximately 2.5 seconds to travel from front to rear. In that time – whilst we are riding at 60 mph or 27 m/s remember – we’ve travelled no less than 67.5 metres.

But of course, we have to move out and move back again. The total distance travelled during the entire manoeuvre is not going to be less than three times 67.5 metres, so to accelerate, pass and tuck back again, we’re looking at a minimum total distance of around 200 metres.

Except we need treble this distance.

Why? What about the effect on other road users when we pop out from behind a truck and the oncoming driver suddenly sees us? Assuming the car is coming the other way at the same speed we’re making the pass and we want to move out, make the pass, then manoeuvre back with a minimum MARGIN FOR ERROR between us, we actually need to COMPLETE the overtake in around one-third of the total “distance we can see to be clear”. So the minimum distance we actually need FROM THE MOMENT WE COMMIT is AT LEAST 600 metres – that’s over one-third of a mile. And we’re now mentally juggling with speeds and distances at which the human brain struggles to make accurate computations.

Of course, to make up for the lack of forward view, the temptation is to nail it. But the faster we attempt to make the pass, the more difficult it is to bail out when it starts going wrong.

My take on this is not to hurry into such an overtake. We definitely shouldn’t underestimate the the difficulties of seeing far enough ahead and the blind areas. Technical ability is NOT a substitute for sound judgement. In practice, I’d suggest only the shallowest left hand bends with the very best views allow a reasonably risk-free overtake past the slowest-moving vehicles, which brings us full-circle to whether an overtake is ‘need’ or ‘nice’.

What was left pretty much unsaid was that a better opportunity will probably come along in a minute. I intensely dislike this ‘take every available opportunity’ approach to riding. It may be appropriate to police riding, but I doubt the validity for civvie riding, even at ‘advanced’ level.

Most of all, I was concerned at its publication in a magazine, where Andy had no control over the riders reading the article. It’s an issue I’m very aware of when writing my own riding tips of my own, and even when delivering my own Survival Skills advanced motorcycle training courses. It’s why each tip tends to have exhaustive discussions of the risks as well as an explanation of benefits.

Statistics show that around half of out-of-town fatalities result from overtakes that go wrong, so to my mind we should be eliminating the technically-tricky ones with the highest potential for going wrong. I’m certainly not going to say I’ve never overtaken in a left-hander but I can definitely say there have been a few times I wished I hadn’t bothered.

72. Anger Management – dealing with road rage and red mist

This article explains the important distinction between red mist (self-induced risk-taking) and road rage (reaction to others) and the advice to recognise anger, avoid the victim mindset, and give control back to the reasoning part of the brain is entirely consistent with safety psychology. The core principle remains the same: control your response rather than the road, by anticipating situations that might provoke anger and giving our reasoning brain the opportunity to override instinctive reactions and avoid escalation.


Anger Management – dealing with road rage and red mist

From time to time I get asked if I have any solutions to what the issues known as ‘red mist’ and ‘road rage’. Of all the questions I’ve tried to answer, this one is probably the most difficult. Although my background is in science, I’m not a psychologist. Mostly what I’ve written here is what I know works for me on the occasions I feel myself getting a bit carried away with riding or acting aggressively if someone makes me angry. What I do know is the one thing we simply cannot do is let it take control. In particular, anger needs to be recognised for what it is – we are never far away from behaving like a two-year-old throwing a tantrum. We never grow up, we just learn how to behave in public, yet there’s a limit to self-control. If we bottle anger up, it will simply build up until we ‘kick the dog’. Some unsuspecting and innocent party bears the brunt of OUR resentment.

First of all, we need to try to identify the problem. Whilst because ‘red mist’ and ‘road rage’ are both psychological states we might develop whilst riding, they are not the same.

Red mist is a state where we are no longer assessing risk realistically. Perhaps we begin to ride at higher speeds, pull off more overtakes, or corner with bigger lean angles than we would normally. Instead of this increasing our stress levels, as it would normally, we can actually get a ‘buzz’ from this kind of riding when everything seems to be ‘in tune’ and effortless. Maybe we begin to enjoy the thrill, maybe we start to justify our behaviour because we’re out to impress others – perhaps riding in a group, or even on an assessed ride. It’s a state that racers, and even professional drivers such as police or ambulance drivers can get fall into in pursuit of the ‘noble cause’ of responding to an emergency call. It’s something the professionals are warned about, but nobody tells the average rider how to look for the warning signs, we just get castigated when we fall into the trap.

Road Rage is a somewhat different psychological trap, and has been around since Daimler first stuck four wheels round an engine. If you want a classic literary example of a driver with road rage, think of Mr. Toad in “The Wind in the Willows”. Essentially, it’s aggressive behaviour around other road users, particularly when someone does something that irritates us, perhaps by impeding our progress. According to research on what annoys drivers, the main triggers for driver anger are:

  • tailgating
  • being cut up
  • inappropriate overtaking
  • undertaking on motorways

You’ll notice the word inappropriate. It’s nearly always a subjective view, where someone does something someone else doesn’t think they should have. Not too long ago, I was rounding a fairly gentle left-hander positioned around half-a-metre from the centre line when I spotted an oncoming car. I moved inward to the centre of the lane – a completely unhurried manoeuvre that in no way inconvenienced the driver coming the other way. Nevertheless, he found it necessary to swerve aggressively towards me, sound the horn and make rude gestures.

Road rage can be relatively low-level ‘shouty’ behaviour such as unnecessary flashes of headlights or use of the horn, or hand signals that aren’t to be found in the Highway Code so if we find ourselves doing those, it’s important to recognise what’s going on.

The problem is escalation. Hopefully we can shrug it off when others display that kind of behaviour towards us, but if we respond in kind, then the situation can rapidly move into aggressive tailgating, swerving towards other vehicles, or brake-testing the vehicle behind. Bikers have been known to kick cars or knock off mirrors, but it’s worth bearing in mind that the one who will come off worst in any argument of four wheels -vs- two is the rider.

Of course, our own view of what we just did is usually completely different. My position on the bend was – compared with a lot of advanced riders – rather restrained. I always aware that motorcyclists often appear impatient to other road users because of our ability to accelerate and overtake, or by taking up positions which a car driver finds inexplicable. Have a read of this:

“Aggressive drivers are careless drivers who want to get ahead of everyone on the road… [who] put their own convenience before anyone else’s safety. Other drivers may develop road rage, potentially violent anger, in response and retaliation to the violations they feel other drivers commit.”

Anybody here ride a bike because they think it allows them to make ‘better progress’ than “everyone else on the road”? Hmmm. We must never forget that when we share the roads, we are judged by everyone else’s standards of behaviour. What seems perfectly good and sensible riding to us may not appear that way to the driver we just passed or coming the other way. Simply because think we are a ‘better’ rider than they are a driver is not an adequate reason for ignoring what ‘the other fellow’ thinks about our riding.

So who’s right? The biker? Or the driver? If there IS an answer, it’s probably “neither of us”, but what I would say is that a really advanced piece of riding is not one that necessarily gains us ‘advantage’ but one that’s almost imperceptible to other drivers.

What really doesn’t help are smug statements like this next one:

“The truth is that no matter where you go, no matter how safe, careful, and considerate a driver you are, there is going to be someone on the road who is not. They’re going to challenge all the patience you have built up, possibly putting your life at risk… a road rager feels a certain degree of superiority over all other drivers on the road. They feel it is their duty to punish bad drivers and teach them “lessons”… their behaviour is equally selfish, immature, and dangerous.”

It’s positively complacent: “it’s not me that’s the problem, it’s everyone else”. This positively hinder our understanding. The fact is that road rage is not something ‘other people’ suffer from – anyone with a human brain is a potential road rager.

So, how do we keep ourselves under control when provoked? How do we detune ourselves when the buzz starts to get the better of us?

There are plenty of helpful-seeming articles online which usually start by saying something like:

“The best way to keep yourself from flying into an uncontrolled rage on the road is to remain calm and keep perspective. When someone does something you feel is careless or stupid on the road, you have to just let it go.”

Errrrr… but HOW??

I did some reading around the topic and it seems that at the most fundamental level, the issue is at least partly down to how the human brain has developed. The most primitive part of the brain, sometimes called the ‘reptilian brain’ because we share it with crocodiles, is designed for survival rather than reasoned thinking. It’s around 300 million years old and its basic programming is ‘react or die’. The first mammals with more advanced brains only appeared around 100 million years later, and the human brain which gives us our flexible reasoning capabilities is only around 200,000 years old. But even in our human brain, that primitive reptilian brain always on the alert and it cannot distinguish between a real threat demanding instant action and a scary surprise that turns out to be nothing significant when we have had a moment to think about it. Whenever we’re shocked, there’s a conflict as the ancient, hard-wired fight and flight response of our reptilian ancestors is pitted against the flexible reasoning responses of our ‘new’ human brain.

So when we react instinctively and without thinking – and sometimes violently – we’ve let the reptilian brain take control.

Now, if you’ve read any of my other writing on the so-called ‘survival reactions’ – the totally inappropriate reactions that kick in when we suffer SURPRISE! on the road, you may begin to see something of a connection.

Not only do we need to try to defuse our own responses when we feel provoked, but we need to understand how not to provoke road rage in others.

I’ve long stopped looking at the road as a place where everyone should “do the right thing” because I’ve learned the hard way that when a dangerous situation arises because someone does something wrong, that’s guaranteed to make me angry. And no-one using the roads is perfect. Not you and not me, and not even the most highly trained riders. We all make mistakes, and many of the dangerous situations really are the result of a simple error of judgement. There but for the grace of god, etc..

So I’ve learned to try to predict the situations where drivers could put me at risk – the classic SMIDSY near-miss is a good example – and to see it coming before it happens. If we’re expecting something to happen, our reasoning brain deals with the fall-out and won’t give the reptilian brain chance to take over – we’ll simply say to ourselves: “I saw that coming”.

And what if we’re the unlucky rider greeted with an inexplicable display of aggression by another road user, like that driver who didn’t like my cornering line? Maybe we were behaving in a predictable manner. Maybe we’ve just surprised them. Or perhaps we’re on the receiving end of some ‘second-hand anger’ after the previous rider triggered the response we just saw. It doesn’t make the driver’s aggression right, but it does make it a little more understandable. Try not to get riled.

Most importantly we need to get out of the ‘victim mindset’ where we believe that all other drivers on the road are out to get us. They aren’t. Drivers are mostly relatively careful around motorcyclists – it’s just that our reptilian brain is far better at noticing the rare occasions when another road user puts us at risk than our reasoning brain is at spotting the far more common moments that drivers keep well clear of us.

If we do start to slip into red mist or aggression, we need to recognise it for what it is. We MUST acknowledge it. Only then will the reasoning area of the brain re-establish control, and decide what, if anything, we are going to do about it. But don’t ignore red mist or anger. Once we realise we’re not acting like a grown-up, breath deeply, count to ten, think it over and move forward.

And if I had to sum up my advice in one phrase? It would be:

“Start looking for the positive on the roads, tune out the negative.”

71. Off-siding – a technique that crosses the line?

The crucial decision here is to balance risk versus benefit, the potential gain in situational awareness versus the real possibility of putting ourselves in a dangerous position. The perception of our manoeuvre from the other driver’s perspective is all-too-often completely overlooked. However, that doesn’t mean we should never consider taking up a position on the other side of the centre line and hazards such as narrow single-lane bridges can create real vision problems if we don’t exploit the full width of the road.


Off-siding – a technique that crosses the line?

I originally wrote this tip as an expanded response incorporating questions being asked by a nearly-new rider. With a year’s experience since passing the bike test, he was shown the technique of ‘offsiding’ on a riding assessment. If you’re not familiar with the term, offsiding is positioning to the RIGHT of the centre line (here in the UK) to improve the view ahead, rather keeping within our own lane. I remember being told many years ago that “you’ve paid to use all the road – so do so”. I’m not implying he was being encouraged to use this position but many riders do, myself included on rare occasions – I’ll explain the limited circumstances in a moment. In the time I’ve been involved in rider training offsiding seems to have gone from a technique that was generally accepted “but do it carefully” to one that’s generally frowned upon as “controversial and we really shouldn’t”. So what’s the right answer? Is there ever a time when it’s a good idea to cross the centre line to gain a view?

Before we go any further, we need to sort out if it’s legal. So long as the centre line is broken – that is, we’re looking at crossing either the short lane divider markings or the longer hazard line, it’s not illegal – we can cross a broken centre line. But we could end up on the wrong side of the law if we’re seen to be riding carelessly or even dangerously – in the case of a longer hazard line, the Highway Code says we can cross the line “if safe and necessary to do so”. Much will depend on who is interpreting ‘safe and necessary’. My view may not be the same as that of a policeman or magistrate.

If we can say “yes, it’s legal”, my approach on Survival Skills advanced motorcycle rider training courses is always to get trainees to ask two questions in order to perform a basic cost / benefit analysis:

  1. what are the benefits
  2. what are the risks?

The usual benefit that is proposed is extra vision – the further right we move:

  • the further we can see ahead around a blind bend to the left
  • the more we can open up a view into a blind area on the left
  • if we can see further, we may also be seen from further away

Let’s start with the the blind bend, and the idea that we can open up the view from riding right of the centre line. What about the risks? The most obvious one is in riding along the ‘wrong’ side of the carriageway, sooner or later we WILL meet someone coming the other way. As we’re on the same side of the road, we’re on a collision course.

It should be fairly obvious we need to be able to return to our side of the road WELL BEFORE the other vehicle gets anywhere near us. But if we have this kind of clear space, isn’t it likely we’re already seeing a long way ahead? What exactly are we adding? As I’ve said elsewhere, the practical reason for extending “the distance we can see to be clear and expect to remain clear” is nearly always to carry more speed. Whilst speed might be essential as part of a police rider’s pursuit activities, it’s NOT part of the remit for an ordinary civvie rider.

If there’s a bit of a question about the advantage, what about the disadvantages? A bit more thinking should reveal some real problems:

  • the shock experienced by the oncoming driver who finds a motorcycle on the wrong side of the road in front of him
  • the need not just to get back left of the centre line, but to shed any extra speed too

Let’s reverse the position. If we were rounding a right-hand bend and suddenly found a car approaching on the wrong side of the centre line, how would WE respond? Would we be thinking calmly: “ah, advanced driver doing a bit of off-siding”? Would we be thinking at all? What’s the chance we’d respond with a WTF and a panic grab of the brakes? I rather think it would be the latter. And what if we panic-swerved too, to our right into the other lane and away from the car? What happens next? This confusion alone is a very good reason to avoid offsiding into a blind corner – we should always avoid putting ourselves into situations where our safety depends on other road users behaving reliably. Even if we don’t scare the bejasus out of the driver, we still have to return to our side of the centre line. A typical response is along the lines of: “I only off-side at a speed that allows me to return to my side of the road in time”. But what if the other driver is going a bit quicker than usual? What if the oncoming driver has cut the corner to straighten it out? Check out the worn paint on the middle of a lot of fast kinks – the reason it’s worn is vehicles straight-lining that bend.

And if we were carrying more speed towards the corner to exploit the better view, we now have to get rid of it. Have we got enough space to do so? And if we’ve had to cut back to the left closer to the bend, does that means we’ve just turned into the corner too early? And is there a risk we’ll now run wide later in the bend? ‘Turn-in too early, run wide later’ is a classic bike cornering crash accident so why take a line that could actually precipitate this error? About the daftest ‘benefit’ to offsiding I’ve heard is that “you get a longer braking distance because you’re not directly behind the vehicle in front”. Eh? Have a think about that for a moment. What if something comes the other way? Could we now safely return to our side of the road and slow down before running into that vehicle going the same way? I’m baffled by the thinking here, and if I feel my braking distance is being compromised by the vehicle ahead, I’ll open up space ahead, and probably slow down too.

If the argument FOR offsiding towards a blind left-hand bend is that we have plenty of space to deal with the above problems, then we can make an argument AGAINST offsiding that our view around the left-hander probably isn’t that bad in the first place. And the sharper the left-hander, the less the benefit but the greater the risks.

However, there is a time I will CONSIDER offsiding approaching a left-hand bend, and that is where an off-side position will MAINTAIN a view that I already have – that is, I can already see clearly and by crossing the centre line I avoid losing the view ahead. It’s sometimes possible that as we exit one corner – typically but not always a right-hander, we can see round the following left-hander, usually because it’s a gentle kink.

For example, on one of my training routes we encounter a narrow single lane bridge. As we exit the previous right-hand bend, we actually have a long view ahead, across the bridge and for around 400 metres further down the road. So if we turn IMMEDIATELY onto the ‘wrong’ side of the road we MAINTAIN the view that we already had, as we ride up to and over the bridge, and we can see if there are oncoming vehicles we might have to give way to.

But if we don’t offside, and do the conventional thing and remain in the left-hand lane, the view ahead gets cut off by the hedge. Now the bridge is blind, and we have to ‘pop out’ from behind it to GAIN the view over the bridge at the last second. In this case, the long forward view beyond the bridge more than compensates for any potential hazards from oncoming vehicles – we have ample time to ‘see and be seen’ and we can move back if necessary – there’s also a chance the driver coming the other way will give way to us.

So if by moving to the right of it we can MAINTAIN the view we already have, then there is an argument for offsiding. But early planning is essential. What I nearly always see in this kind of situation is that riders take too long to work out the lines-of-sight, then move too late, often only when they realise they have lost the view. Now we are attempting to REGAIN it. It’s risky because even if it’s only takes a couple of seconds, that’s a couple of seconds we’ve been riding blind. Sometimes, riders will anticipate a right of the centre line position could open up a view and move to GAIN it, but move far too late. Now the risk is we might gain a close-up view of the front of a Scania – something we didn’t really want to see.

There’s one last case. I mentioned that crossing the centre line can open up a view into a blind area on the left, and that may help someone see us coming:

a driver about to pull out of the blind area to see us coming. The roads are littered with blind driveways, entrances and side turnings, and sometimes I will spot a particularly risky one. I could slow right down just in case a vehicle started to emerge, but I could also slow down AND move to the right if the view ahead and behind shows the road is free of traffic

approaching a left-hand bend with a car parked on my side of the road on the corner. It’s a situation not dissimilar to the bridge I mentioned earlier – by moving right early, I MAINTAIN the best possible view around the parked car, and give the oncoming driver the best chance of spotting me coming. What I don’t want to do is pop out jack-in-the-box style, and GAIN a view only to meet someone head-on

So, to sum up…

…there are some occasions when I will cross the centre line. But it’s always tempered by the realisation that whilst I am in control of my own speed and position, I cannot control how the driver coming the other way reacts. I also have to distinguish between the advantages of ‘maintaining’ a view and the risks of attempting to ‘gain’ a view.

70. Overtaking, lifesavers and following distances

Crash stats don’t lie. Overtaking continues to be one of the most hazardous manoeuvres a rider can perform. The core message that mirror checks alone are insufficient and that well-timed blind spot checks can provide critical and complementary information remains an important one. The coming trend towards technology such as blind spot warning systems may assist us, but I very much doubt they can fully replace these fundamental techniques. Since overtaking is inherently high-risk, anything that reduces the threat should be considered.


Overtaking, lifesavers and following distances

My position on ANY technique that we use whilst on the bike is that it should IMPROVE safety by reducing risk. Or to put it another way, if a technique increases our exposure to risk it’s worth asking if we should be using it. Overtaking is inherently high risk. However good we are, we can only reduce those risks, we cannot make overtaking ‘safe’. Think about it. It’s about the only accident we’d ever accelerate into. But we’re also involving other human beings, and humans don’t always behave predictably. Ovetakes often go wrong when the driver we’re planning on passing does something we didn’t expect. And now we’re carrying a lot of speed. And of course, no matter how fast we think we are, there’s always someone quicker. And they might just possibly be planning on ovetaking too. We need up to date situational awareness before we commit ourselves to an overtake.

A regular ‘advanced riding’ debate is: “should the rider perform a ‘lifesaver’ before pulling out to pass another vehicle?”

As with any question like that, the answer revolves around what we’re attempting to achieve. As explained in another article, the ‘lifesaver’ is a final over-the-shoulder blind spot check that we make before moving sideways into a position where there might possibly be another vehicle.

The debate hinges on whether or not we can rely fully on what is sometimes called ‘mirror history’. The theory is that if we check our mirrors often enough, we’ll have spotted another vehicle catching us, and we’ll know that there is nothing in our blindspot.

Here’s the issue as I see it. Here’s the upside. If we DO check, and there’s something there, we can abort our manoeuvre. And if there’s nothing there, we’ve taken our eyes off the road ahead for a second or so to take the look. Does that really matter? Not unless we’re very close to the vehicle ahead, or we’re trying to squeeze the pass into the tightest possible opportunity.

But what if we’re relying on the mirrors? However often we look in the mirror it can only tell us what’s behind us, not what’s alongside in the blind spot.If we spotted something in the mirrors, then we abort the manoeuvre. But if we didn’t spot the vehicle in one or more of our mirror checks, WE DON’T KNOW IT’S THERE. Now the danger is that we commit ourselves into the overtake and put ourselves at risk.

The real problem is that we have limited attention, and the busier the road gets, the less likely we are to make our mirror checks frequent enough to fill in information about what’s catching us from behind. As one contributor put it:

“I find there are some situations where I think a shoulder check is essential and some where they aren’t needed. It all depends on the complexity of predicting the future. If you have gathered a stable but dynamic, developing ‘picture’ of the space around you from the information gathered in the period before the manouevre – other traffic, behaviour, speeds – and can confidently predict that nothing will adversely affect the manoeuvre… then you make the move without a shoulder check. If the situation is one of high complexity then you make the check.”

In essence, I agree. But given the human propensity for making mistakes, I’d have to be very, VERY certain there was nothing around me NOT to do one. Positions of vehicles change very fast and we need up-to-the-minute situational awareness, and it’s debateable whether mirrors alone can ever provide this.

Look at it this way. We wouldn’t rely on three or four glimpes of the road through a tall hedge before deciding it was safe to drive straight out of a minor road. We’d take a final look before committing ourselves. Mirror checks give us the rearward equivalent of these glimpses. Only a shoulder check can show us directly what is actually IN the blind spot.

On a single carriageway, at least we know where the danger’s coming from – behind us. But on multilane roads, it could be from either side. In the middle lane, a vehicle will come up fast on the nearside, then swoop across behind us, switching to the outside lane. There’s a significant risk that any checks in the right mirror will not have spotted this vehicle. Even if we’ve made mirror checks to the nearside, it’s unlikely we’ve spotted what’s happening unless we look at just the right moment. This can also happen as we pass the ‘on ramp’ on a motorway or dual carriageway. And drivers also move up into, then sit in the blind spot so we can’t see them either in the mirror or peripheral vision. The only way to see is via a blind spot check. In either case, all that’s needed is a quick ‘chin-to-shoulder’ glance into the blind spot before we commit ourselves.

So if looking into the blind spot can only have positive effects on our situational awareness, what’s the objection?

“It’s potentially dangerous if the car ahead suddenly slows down.”

That’s easily answered. If the car ahead slowing down instantly puts us at risk, we’re too close. No arguments. No “if’s”, “but’s” or “maybe’s”. If the car ahead slows and we are instantly put at risk, it doesn’t matter where we’re looking – it could have been in the mirror. We should have been further back, no matter we’re looking to be in the ‘overtaking’ position. If we can’t look away from the car’s brake lights, we are too close. And what’s less obvious is that if we’re in the least bit worried about running into the car ahead, we’re not going to be giving our overtaking planning full attention! It’s a form of target fixation.

“A lifesaver takes too long.”

Someone once quoted two seconds as “the time it takes to look behind”. That shows a bit of a misunderstanding about WHERE we’re looking. There’s more about this in another tip, but we’re only looking into the blind area, not ‘behind’. If we combine our final mirror check (and you ARE going to make one, aren’t you?) with the over-the-shoulder lifesaver, it doesn’t actually take all that much longer than the mirror check alone – try it.

You may see it as a ‘belt and braces’ approach, and you might argue that if we’ve got a good belt, we don’t need braces. Maybe, but belts do slip and then we might be very glad to have the braces to hold our trousers up.

One of my least favourite expressions is “if I didn’t overtake, I might as well be driving a car”, as if a motorcycle is an automatic licence to overtake.

It’s hard to Personally, I believe that there’s nothing more dangerous that we do on a bike than overtaking.

So I tend to think that everything we do that decreases risk when overtaking is a good idea. And one of those good ideas is knowing what’s behind you, which is probably the area that most riders forget to check! “After all”, they reason – “if you are overtaking you’re going faster so the hazard must be in front of you, no?”

Well, actually, no! If you’re thinking about an overtake, so will someone else be. The most obvious candidate is another bike but there are plenty of cars out there these days with stunning acceleration – ask Jeremy Clarkson!

Given the ever-more crowded state of the roads, the chances of an overtake being completely free of oncoming traffic is going down every day – you need more attention AHEAD of the vehicle you’re planning to pass and behind you too, not less by worrying about running into it.

It’s been claimed that looking behind takes too long. Some quoted two seconds

Half the reason for this argument on the issue is that many riders still think that a lifesaver is a long look behind. That was what riders were supposed to do until fairly recently, thanks to the DSA’s reluctance to acknowledge bikes had mirrors till the late 90s, but it’s really not necessary. A lifesaver is simply a chin-to-shoulder blind spot check timed before an important change of position, into a potentially dangerous position. In other words, it’s the timing rather than the action.

It’s simple enough to combine a mirror check and follow through straight into a blind spot glance. Your head check has now filled in the entire picture alongside and behind. I really cannot see why people are so against the idea of doing them. If it’s timed correctly it’s no more dangerous than looking in the mirror.

Whilst I’m on overtakes, I’ll comment on the habit of moving up to a very close “overtaking” position behind the vehicle ahead when looking for an overtake. It’s recommended by police instructors and can be seen demonstrated on the Bikesafe 2000 video. For my liking, that position is far too close – at one point on that otherwise excellent video, there is barely a single hazard line between the bike and the car ahead. Even their safer “following” position is about half the distance I’d like to keep between me and another vehicle.

So, I’d double the distances shown in that video – my following position would be around the 2 second minimum safe distance, and my closer up overtaking position around 1 second back.

Whilst it’s true that the holding a more distant 1 second “overtaking” position means you are accelerating from a greater distance, with good timing you don’t need to twist the throttle so hard because you can get something of a “run” at the overtake. Hanging back further allows you to catch up in the final part of the corner, and often makes it easier to pass without excessive speed or any wasted time. If you are too close, it’s hard to accelerate before you are wide and clear, which tends to lead to big throttle openings.

In reality, if you overtake from further back, what you have to avoid is carrying too much speed into the overtake. If a situation starts to develop that looks awkward, you may have to pull back in. If you can’t pull back in, you are passing with too much speed. You should pass slowly enough that you can bail out if you need to. I can’t begin to say how many times I’ve been in the middle of a pass and something goes wrong that I’ve had to brake to avoid, and I don’t just mean misjudgements on my part – but brain out manoeuvres by the other driver.

If you yo-yo between the close “overtaking” position and the more laid back “following” position, you need to think how incredibly distracting that can be to the driver you are trying to pass, particularly if you have lights on. And something else that’s rarely mentioned is that as soon as you move up, the car behind YOU maintains their own “is that a fly on that bike’s numberplate?” following position, so dropping back becomes problematic, if not potentially dangerous – another reason for not getting too close in the “overtaking position” and finding yourself the meat in a sandwich.

Following too close through a bend is a mistake too, as most drivers decelerate until they can see their way out of a corner – if you’re too close, that means you decelerate too and end up at lower revs than you meant to.

Slow + high gear = longer time to make the pass when you finally go.

Another factor which is frequently ignored is that cars are massively more powerful than they were even 10 years ago. Even something that looks like it ought to trundle out of a corner like a massive 4×4 can often accelerate pretty quickly. Yes bikes are faster too, so we end up using ever higher speeds to make up the pass.

Even a good overtake is potentially dangerous – so it makes sense to make them as safe as we can, not to risk all on a hurried and botched pass.

There are two problems, if you discount the obvious one of failing to look often enough. Working out speed and distance – and then deciding when that vehicle will arrive along side you. to do this

You’ll need to look into the blind spot to see the bike or car that comes up so quickly that you don’t spot it between regular checks. Do some sums. At 60mph you’re travelling around 27 metres per second. Say you check your mirrors every 5 seconds (and that’s pretty enthusiastic mirror checking, too) – in that distance you’ve travelled around 130m.

Now, what if there is a bike (or possibly even a police car) doing 120mph coming up behind you? If you check your mirrors four times at 5 second intervals, with the final check when it’s along side you, the first time you check it’ll be over 500m back – more than a quarter of a mile. There’s not that much chance you’ll spot it – think about how mirrors make things look further away!

Second check and it’s now 270m back – that’s still more than the length of two football pitches – there’s a pretty good chance you still won’t see it if there is a lot of other traffic in the lane.

Next check will be when it’s 135m behind you. Sounds easy enough to spot, but if it’s in the same lane, and there is another vehicle close behind you, will you see it? And even if you do, if you didn’t see it in either of the two earlier checks then what you don’t know is how fast it’s going.

On your fourth check, the car/bike is alongside you. Scary.

Another problem with mirror history that you may find on a

So, things can change very fast indeed on motorways. Even if you think you know what’s there and it’s going to stay there, you might be wrong. Read this:

“The dangers of the assumption above were brought home to me when I was being observed a few years ago. We were on our way back and it was getting dark; my observer was riding a Pan and another Pan had caught up with us which I hadn’t seen; this second Pan had gone past the observer who had moved over accordingly, so the lights I saw in my mirror weren’t his at all; thus there was very nearly a meeting of fairings when I pulled out to overtake, thinking that my observer had anticipated the overtake and was ready to follow me through, when, in fact, it was the “foreign” Pan overtaking me.”

So, given the safety benefits, why are some riders and instructors so dead-set against them?

 

59. Straight line -vs- trail braking

The next article was written well over twenty years ago, well before the current influencer-fuelled fad for trail braking as the ‘right way’ to enter corners became popularised on social media, usually without any cautions as to what happens if the level of grip under the tyres changes whilst the rider is braking and leaning simultaneously. Traction is not just finite, it’s unpredictably variable. There lies the risk on the road.

What I could have made clearer is that I believed then (and still do now) that trail braking is an entirely valid ‘get out of trouble’ technique. When we realise we’re running into a corner too rapidly, and leaning the bike alone is not going to avoid an off-road excursion, then using both front and rear brakes to bleed off some speed and tighten the radius of the turn is likely to be our way out of trouble. I taught it on my first Performance: BENDS courses in the late ’90s and I still cover it now, so I’m not ‘anti-trail braking’ as I have sometimes been labelled. To my mind, it’s a technique to be used when needed and not as a default approach to slowing for corners..


Straight line -vs- trail braking

One of the questions that I seem to get fairly frequently is what do I think about trail braking into bends. And when I do discuss it, it’s often a bit of a biking hot potato, with supporters on the one hand and others who say it’s a dangerous race track technique with no place on the road. First of all, it’s important that we understand the difference beween the two techniques, but also how they are linked. And we also need to be aware of what is sometimes called the ‘Traction Pie’. Essentially, is explains how it’s possible that we can divide up the grip that’s needed BETWEEN braking AND cornering at the same time.

The classic braking technique on the approach to a corner is to complete all braking before we start to steer the bike. The big advantage of this technique is that it separates traction management into two phases, FIRST braking THEN cornering. By keeping them apart we allow the tyres to use ALL their grip for one task OR the other. As a result, we significantly reduce the risk of losing traction at either end of the bike.

By contrast, when using the trail-braking technique the rider carries the brakes from the upright approach into the corner, gradually reducing the pressure on the brakes while adding lean angle until the brakes are off and the bike is at the chosen lean angle.

So what’s the problem?

Essentially, because the braking forces are using up traction AT THE SAME TIME AS the leaning forces, it’s possible to exceed the total amount of traction they tyres can deliver. And if that happens, we’re in trouble.

It’s that potential for loss of grip that’s always been used to promote the traditional upright braking approach to bends – if a wheel does lock under braking, upright it’s controllable even on a bike without ABS.

Separating braking and steering is by far and away the simplest way of dealing with a bend, and there’s far less to go wrong. Not least, if we’re off the brakes, we free ourselves up mentally to look around the corner to see what comes next. If we’re on the brakes, we’re actually mentally focused on the road surface itself (think about it) and what we might hit if it all goes wrong – cars, walls and other hard objects – and that in turn leads us in the direction of target fixation.

So why bother with trail braking at all? Two reasons.

The first is simply ‘advantage’ – since we carry the brakes into the first part of the corner, it’s possible to brake a little later, which means we carry speed a little further down the preceding straight. You’ve probably realised where this would be an advantage – on the track.

You may also have heard that “the bike steers better with the forks compressed”. It’s actually written on Freddie Spencer’s site and it’s hard to argue with a racer as talented as Freddie. But I can honestly say that every road bike I’ve ridden has, to a greater or a less extent, sat up and headed for the ditch on the brakes. Maybe a race bike set up on race tyres and race geometry does steer OK on the brakes, but my thinking is that this is a misunderstanding of what’s happening – as the bike slows on the brakes, it turns on a progressively tighter line simply because the speed is dropping.

Anyway, we’re not riding on the track, we’re on the road. We’re not out-braking other riders, nor trying to squeeze half a second off our point-to-point time. In fact, attempting trail braking as a regular approach to getting round bends risks all the things that goes wrong in bends:

  • running in too fast
  • turning in too early
  • running wide later in the corner

But with an added problem – because we’re braking and steering at the same time, we’ll be edging closer to the limit of traction. And of course, we’re assuming that the surface can deliver the grip we’re asking for – but surface grip can very from metre to metre. When we deliberately trail brake into a bend and get it wrong or the surface fails to deliver, the bend will bite back – hard! Which brings us right back to the benefits of braking upright to sort out speed before we reach the bend itself. On the road, braking hard and late is rarely the key to riding quickly – it just unsettles the bike and unsettles the rider!

As it happens, Nick Ienatsch – another US racer and writer for the US mag Sport Rider who is a big fan of trail braking on the track – says in his ‘The Pace’ articles that trail braking makes steering more difficult and is out of place on the road.

So if we’re not simply trying to use trail braking to ride faster, what’s the other potential benefit?

The simple answer is that we’re not on a track, and that means the road ahead is essentially unpredictable. Not only do we misjudge corners – the bend that looked easy a moment ago suddenly starts tightening up – or we may find the road blocked just out of sight. Even if we approach the bend ‘at a speed that allows us to stop in the distance we can see to be clear’, if our forward progress reveals a couple of cows wandering around mid-corner, we’re going to have to lose some speed. We cannot throw our hands up and say “but I can only brake in a straight line”, we are almost certainly going to have to carry those brakes into the corner itself.

So now we really are talking about a technique that is of genuine use on the road. So long as we weren’t planning on enter the corner at knee-down speeds, then our modest lean angle allows for those brakes to be carried into turn.

And then we have two further options. We can keep the brakes on, and maintain our lean angle – and then, as I just mentioned, our reduction in speed will automatically make the bike turn tighter. That will deal with decreasing radius corner. Or we can use the reduction in speed to reduce our lean angle, and now as the lean angle comes up we can use the second option – brake progressively harder until the bike is upright and we’re braking at emergency levels. That will get us stopped if the road is blocked.

But in both cases we have to understand that if we haven’t already locked up the front wheel by braking in a straight line, there is ALWAYS grip to begin to steer and add some lean. It may not be much if we’re braking hard, but it’s there all the same.

We just have to lean the machine gently to start with, and remember that as we feed lean in, we feed the brakes out.

Mix and match. Slice that pie between the leaning and braking.

One final tip. Having got the speed where we want it, release the brakes smoothly and progressively – don’t suddenly ping them off. If we do, that will unload the front suspension equally suddenly, and that will give us a very nasty surprise indeed. Because we’ve added a little extra counter-steering input to fight the bike’s ‘sit-up on the brakes’ tendency, removing the braking force means that extra steering input makes it fall into the corner rather abruptly.

58. Euphoria – when our riding is just too good to be true

Looking back, I think a good subtitle might have been — “when we are having too much fun!” It conveys the psychological angle to the reader and hints at the subtle danger: it’s not anger, panic, or incompetence, but a state of overconfidence. It signals that the article is about a mental state as much as a riding technique and touches on a psychological state that is increasingly recognised in traffic psychology: a subtle form of overconfidence or “flow-induced risk” rather than outright anger or recklessness. Skill and routine mask the creeping erosion of safety margins — a state that can be more dangerous than obvious adrenaline-fuelled risk-taking because the rider believes everything is under control. The danger is that we don’t notice the shrinking safety margin until something jolts us out of the flow. Awareness of this state, deliberate self-checks, and the willingness to slow down or take a break remain crucial safeguards — even for the most experienced riders.


Euphoria – when our riding is just too good to be true

I got thinking after I got an email from one of my regular correspondents:

“Riding home after work, I felt in the mood for ‘pushing on’ a bit. I was congratulating myself on the swift progress I was making through the traffic, some drivers seemed a bit more aggressive than usual, but, what the hell, that was all part of the fun. The prat who pushed in too close to me and got a stare in return was just that, a prat. The close-ish encounters with traffic islands were just good timing, as was the manoeuvre to avoid the cyclist I spotted a bit late as I filtered rather wide and swiftly along the road.

“However, when I went through the red light I realised maybe I wasn’t riding quite as well as I thought. Didn’t realise, in fact, that the light was against me until half way across the junction. Luckily it was clear, because if it hadn’t been I’m not at all sure I’d have realised.”

He went on to say that perhaps after a stressful day at work he was a bit wound up.

Anyone recognise the symptoms? I have to admit to having days like that when I was a courier, and occasionally on other rides too.

It used to hit me towards the end of a long day. Partly tiredness, partly boredom with doing what became as routine as any other job. I’d get into a groove. In town I’d find myself slicing through rush hour traffic, filtering at high speed, overtaking through small gaps, running amber lights. Out of town I’d be zooming through bends, using big lean angles and engaging in heavy braking. It wasn’t as if I was in a rush to get somewhere either, in fact I’d feel more relaxed than normal. As the risky manoeuvre came off, I’d try them again for fun. It felt all so easy.

All TOO easy.

This state of euphoria is a close cousin to, but not the same as, red mist. The problem is that what’s happening to us usually only becomes evident after something scary or an obvious mistake snaps us out of it. Whilst red mist is characterised by obviously irrational behaviour – usually massive risk taking – in this euphoric state, we really believe we’re doing our normal thing, but in reality we are eating much deeper into our safety margin – maybe even exceeding it.

The bad news is that it’s almost addictive. And there’s a massive temptation to push towards the limits and enjoy the buzz as nothing seems to go wrong whilst we ride quicker and quicker, closer and closer to the edge. But sooner or later we WILL push too hard and cross the line. So riding in this way and waiting for the big mistake to tell us that we were actually in over our heads isn’t such a great idea.

Personally, I got to recognise the symptoms on those despatch jobs, and have been able to rein myself in before things get too out of control. I’d make a conscious decision to slow down, take a break or even turn off the radio and go home early!

One of the questions I ask myself as I ride is: “did that look dangerous to other road users?” If I have to say to myself: “yes, it probably did” then it’s time to dial down the fun and head, rather more slowly, for home.

56. Wide lines, tight lines, right lines – the law of Diminishing Returns

This article challenges the idea that “positioning for view” is ‘necessary’ to be seen as an advanced rider. Whilst it’s accepted that “positioning for safety” should always be first in the hierarchy of ‘safety — stability — view’, as an absolute rather than a trade-off. As I’ve said elsewhere, “safety” is an abstract goal, as in “more view must be safer”, but risk is a trade-off between exposure and benefit. Riders often accept a large increase in exposure (to oncoming traffic or hidden hazards) in exchange for a very small gain in information (measured in metres or fractions of a second), without consciously evaluating whether that trade is favourable. The extra metres of visibility only have real value we intend to act on them, and in practice that usually means carrying more speed through the bend, which magnifies the consequences of any mistake. That’s the paradox; more view doesn’t automatically make us safer if we simply use it to ride faster — and that’s where risk creeps back in. The safest line is not the widest or the tightest, but the one that leaves the greatest margin for error when something goes wrong — including our mistakes as well as the mistakes of others.

Wide lines, tight lines, right lines – the law of Diminishing Returns

Years ago, I went along to one of the very first BikeSafe courses run by the Met Police, and had a good day, picking up a couple of useful tips and generally being impressed with the comments. One of my few negative observations on the day was the way the police rider taking us out held a wide line, right out on the white line, around left-hand bends even when there was traffic coming the other way*. I felt the position was too extreme, and when writing up my day out, I made this comment on my regular bike forum. The ensuing discussion surprised me.

One forum member, a former bike cop himself, took me to task and insisted that if the rider gained an extra half-second view ahead, then the wide position was worth it.

I thought about the cornering crash stats, and just how many riders are killed on left-hand corners. It’s pretty obvious that seeing the spiky thing on the front of the tractor half a second sooner if it’s about to impale us doesn’t really help much. A second trainer :

“There are times when position for view is the last thing (but not ‘final’) to be considered. Narrow lanes, tight blind corners? Forget ‘progress’, hug the left verge.”

Then up popped a third instructor with:

“Seeing something half a second earlier CAN make a difference. What is important is that your speed is right such that you are able to deal with any situations as they occur.

“Very often people are simply carrying too much speed as opposed to being in the wrong position. The two combined are a lethal combination, 2 mph can be too much, just lose it and manage the problem.”

So which is it? Should we hold that wider line and get a slightly better view around a left-hander? Or should we tuck in a little closer to the nearside and sacrifice a bit of view for some extra clearance to oncoming vehicles?

The answer, to my mind, usually lies with the simpler option.

If we hold the wide line out alongside the centre line, and we DO see something we need to avoid, then we need to move – and pretty rapidly too – to the left to get out of the way.

If on the same corner we hold a slightly tighter line, we have slightly less view around the corner, but the chances of meeting a vehicle cutting the corner and requiring some evasive action are lessened. And we’ll probably not have to move so far for that evasive manoeuvre.

But there’s another consideration. The only real reason for holding a wide line around a corner is to carry more speed. Think about it – we need to be able to ‘stop in the distance we can see to be clear on our side of the road’ etc. That’s the instruction from ‘Motorcycle Roadcraft’, the police manual. If we move left, we can still apply the rule, just at a slightly slower speed because we can see a little less far.

How much is our view restricted? Well, mid-corner it’s not nearly as much as is generally believed. The diagrams in Roadcraft are massively exaggerated in terms of width of the road, simply to make the point clear. But on real roads which are much narrower, the extra distances we can see by taking up wide positions is just a few metres. If you’re sceptical, you can easily see for yourself. Stop near a left-hand bend, and walk to the centre of the lane – look up the road and see where the limit point is. Now walk out to the centre line, and have a second look. You won’t be seeing much further around the corner. If you don’t fancy getting round down, you can achieve much the same result by using the satellite view on Googlemaps and zooming in on a bend. Lay a straight edge over the screen and move it around to simulate the different lines of sight. I think you’ll be surprised how little extra the view moves forward as you shift from a centre-of-the-lane position to the extreme right.

The real benefit of the wide-right position on a left-hander is not what we can see of the the road ahead, it’s actually an earlier view – and more separation from – the other big threat on any twisty road; blind driveways, entrances to fields, and side turnings on the inside of the corner…

…and if we DO find something pulling out from the left or turning into the entrance across our path, we better be able to stop in short order.

Suddenly, the benefits of carrying more speed around the bend don’t look quite so important as the ability to stop when we find the road blocked.

  • I repeated BikeSafe in 2018 and am happy to report that the police rider was taking up rather less extreme positions!

54. Overtaking – Questions and Answers

Nothing’s changed about overtaking. The central thesis — that overtaking is a risk management problem, not a technical skill exercise — aligns closely with modern advanced riding doctrine and collision analysis. Arguably, the risks surrounding overtaking have not diminished. Traffic density has increased, vehicles are quicker, and the fundamental problem remains unchanged: overtaking is one of the few manoeuvres where we commit ourselves to a manoeuvre which relies on predictable behaviour of other road users, all at high relative speeds. Modern motorcycles may accelerate harder and stop better, but so do cars either ahead of us or coming the other way. If anything, improved motorcycle performance is a trap into thinking it makes overtaking “easier” but actually making poor decisions unfold faster. The principles that follow are therefore not dated cautions, but enduring risk-management tools for one of riding’s highest-consequence manoeuvres.


Overtaking – Questions and Answers

I originally put this particular article together for two reasons. It was partly because of the volume of emails directed to my old ‘Doctor’s Surgery’ page, and an even larger number of questions posted on the bike forum I was moderating. And it was partly because of the crash statistics and the shocking rate of fatalities resulting from overtaking errors. Just one study from Cheshire (see ‘Accident Statistics – dispelling some myths’) showed that just under 10% of all crashes in the study resulted from overtaking errors, including overtaking a car that turned right and head-on collisions. As I wrote at the time I penned the original, that particular study is a few years old now, but from what I can see, nothing much has changed. Give riders a chance to overtake, and a significant proportion of us still manage to get it wrong – badly. So rather than write yet another “here’s the right way to overtake”, let’s look at the cautions we should build into our planning; cautions to be applied whether we’re new to biking or experienced.

There are two kinds of overtaking crash. Those made by riders who don’t understand how to perform an overtake in the first place – I was certainly in that category for my first few years of riding and was lucky to survive some serious errors. But there are a second kind too – what I’ve come to realise over the years is that experienced riders, and especially those with a post-test riding qualification, become rather blase about the risks of overtaking. The more we carry out the overtaking manoeuvre, the more it becomes routine. Riders who started with cautious overtakes and wide margins for error begin to get increasingly confident. And then they begin to cut back on those margins.

Whever the source of the error, the trouble is that when we get an overtake badly wrong there’s a fair chance it’ll be both the first, the last and the ONLY time it goes badly wrong – the consequences are often fatal. When overtaking goes wrong, we may not get a chance to learn from our mistake.

Q What are the legal aspects of overtaking?

A Off to the Highway Code. All overtaking must be made to the RIGHT or offside of the vehicle except:

  • when the driver in front is turning right and there is sufficient room, it is safe and legal to overtake to the left
  • when the rider is turning left and there is sufficient room to do so
  • in one way streets where traffic in the right hand lane(s) is travelling slower
  • in slow moving traffic where traffic is moving slower in the outside lane, provided the rider does not change lanes to gain advantage

YOU MUST NOT OVERTAKE :

  • where it would mean crossing double or single solid white lines. (The exception to this rule is when it’s safe to pass an obstruction such as a road maintenance vehicle, a cyclist or a horse. They must be either stationary or travelling at less than 10mph)
  • within the zigzag area on approach to a pedestrian crossing (i)
  • where signs indicate a prohibition

i) The actual traffic regulation is that you must not pass the car nearest the crossing within the zigzag markings – so you could legally filter up next to it, but not overtake until clear of the crossing.

YOU SHOULD NOT OVERTAKE where forward vision is restricted to such an extent that there is insufficient room to complete the manoeuvre in the area visible, such as on the approach to:

  • a corner or bend
  • dead ground
  • a brow of a hill or bridge

Q I often see bikes overtaking and squeezing by cars just inside a solid line on the rider’s side. Is that legal?

A The law says that no part of the bike (and that includes your body and your panniers – likely to be the widest part of your machine) should cross the solid white line. Just keeping the wheels inside isn’t enough. And crossing it, no matter how tempting, is illegal – points and a fine. But, technically, if there is room then it is legal to pass inside the solid line.

However… drivers will NOT expect to be overtaken on a road with a solid line, will not be expecting it and may react aggressively as most road users think a solid line means no overtaking.

Q What about cross-hatched areas?

A If there are no legal restrictions, there are no specific rules to say no. With cross-hatched areas bounded by a broken line, the problem is a matter of interpretation of the law, which says we can enter if “safe and necessary to do so”. We can – and I have – argued what constitutes ‘necessary’ many times. The problem is that your interpretation of necessary as “necessary to get ahead of a slower vehicle” may not be a non-biking magistrate’s interpretation. Cross-hatched areas are there to create empty space by keeping traffic flows apart, often to protect vehicles turning right, on bends where there is a lot of heavy traffic, or perhaps where lanes are about to diverge or merge together; they are not handy motorcycle overtaking lanes. Using them to ‘make progress’ may not be illegal per se, but it could be risky. I will use them, but I’ll have a good look to try to work out why they are there before I do.

Q OK, so how about up the middle of wide roads with a broken line? Can I pass between lanes of traffic where the road is wide enough? That’s legal, surely?

Legal perhaps, but no-one expects to encounter a bike overtaking down the middle of opposing streams of traffic. What if someone ahead moves out for a better view ahead? What if an oncoming driver reacts aggressively? What if we meet someone doing the same thing from the opposite direction? Although they’ve become very rare, three-lane roads which allowed overtaking from opposite directions were notorious for head-on collisions.

Q OK, so if I avoid those traps, all I have to worry about when overtaking is if it is safe and legal?

A Ask yourself: why you are overtaking? Is there any point in overtaking one vehicle in a long queue on a twisty road where you know there are no other overtakes possible for miles? Is there any point in overtaking just before a roundabout? Is there any point overtaking a car travelling at much the same speed as you? Is there any point making a difficult overtake on a single carriageway when there is a sign saying “DUAL CARRIAGEWAY 1 MILE”?

Q Of course – I make more progress. Isn’t that good?

A ‘Making progress’ has become a byword for ‘advanced motorcyclist’. After a decade and a half of working as a courier, I knew a little about getting from A to B without hanging around too much. Even so, when I put myself through the IAM system back in the late 90s, I rather surprised to be pulled up on an observed ride by my observer for failing to overtake a pickup truck travelling at around 40 in a 60 limit on a dead straight road, since we were just approaching a short stretch of 30 limit through a village, and I could see the national limit resumed on the other side. The conversation that followed was along these lines:

Obs – “you had an opportunity to make a safe pass before the village”
Me – “but what happened to the speed limit 300m past the point I would have completed the overtake?”
Obs – “It went from 60 to a 30”
Me – “but how long did it last? You could see the national limit sign at the other end of the village.”
Obs – “yes, but you could have made a safe overtake before the village.”
Me – “did you notice if the pickup slowed down for the speed limit?”
Obs – “No it didn’t.”

Now, about this point our planning diverged. Mine was based on the reasonable assumption that a driver ambling along a dead straight bit of 60 limit at 40 would probably continue ambling along at 40 in the dead straight bit of 30 limit. His was based on the letter of the law.

Me – “So, I would have overtaken the truck, then slowed for the limit, only to have it stuck to my number plate for the next half mile”.
Obs – “That’s the driver’s problem, not yours.”

I disagreed then and I disagree now. It’s very much my problem. By overtaking, I’ve converted a hazard that was ahead of me, where I can see it easily and can choose my own following distance, into one that’s behind me where I cannot control the gap and one which I can only see in the mirrors. I actually lose control of the situation.

Me – “did I lose the opportunity to make any useful progress?”
Obs – “yes, you could have overtaken before the village.”

Once again, I disagree. The gain was one vehicle on a lightly-trafficked road. Given the short stretch of 30 limit, it was perfectly reasonable to defer the overtake until I was out the other side, and back in the national limit.

So, here’s the first question we ask, and it’s not “is it safe?”. It’s “is it sensible and does it make USEFUL progress?” Getting one vehicle further up the road is neither here nor there, and having to slow down right in front of the vehicle we’ve just passed isn’t sensible.

And here’s the kicker. Overtaking is ALWAYS risky. So if we can defer a riskier manoeuvre – like that overtake on a single carriageway – until there’s less risk on the dual carriageway, that has to be a good thing.

Q Surely if an overtake is done properly, there’s no risk?

A Years ago, an ex-police instructor told me quite categorically that “done well, an overtake is perfectly safe”. He was wrong. As a moment’s thought would have told him, we can NEVER completely eliminate risk. From the moment we ride away from the kerb, there are always things that can go wrong and so our job is risk management. The biggest problem with overtaking is that we’re not facing what the DVSA have called a ‘static hazard’. A bend is a static hazard. The bend cannot change its mind about which way it’s going – what we see is what we’re going to get, and so long as our observation skills and ridiing technique are reasonably proficient, we should get round it. The only person who can get it wrong is the rider.

But an overtake involves at least one other human, quite possibly several humans. And however carefully we plan ahead, we CANNOT control what another human does. And if there’s one thing we should have learned almost as soon as we hit the road, it’s that humans make mistakes. Mid-overtake, however carefully we plan ahead, we’re relying on other drivers to do what we expected them to do. It’s when they behave in a way we were NOT expecting that things go wrong.

Q What are the big dangers whilst overtaking?

A Apart from making such a foul-up of the overtake that we hit a car coming the other way, the biggest dangers are colliding with the vehicle we’re passing as it pulls out itself to overtake, hitting a car as it turns right, being hit by a car emerging from the right, or running into a car emerging from the left and turning into our path!

Q But no-one can miss seeing a car coming towards them!

A Sometimes riders don’t miss the oncoming vehicle, but deliberately choose to pull out into its path. What we have to look at is not just the distance we need to get past a slower vehicle, but to allow AT LEAST the same distance ahead to deal with an oncoming vehicle appearing just as we commit to the overtake. Think about it.

The big problem is that our ability to judge the speed and distance of oncoming vehicles is sketchy at best at the kind of speeds and distances we need for overtakes on the open road. And the quicker the traffic we’re passing, the easier it is to misjudge the gap ahead. Don’t rely on just one glance to judge speed and distance – it’s easy to miss the Ferrari being driven enthusiastically and closing from the other direction at high speed. That’ll fill the gap we were planning on using. We’d better not be in it.

But sometimes we cannot see the oncoming vehicle when we commit to overtaking, because we’re approaching a blind corner or maybe a blind crest. Legally, we have to be back to our side of the road where the line on our side turns solid, so most riders aim to return to the nearside as they pass the two ‘toeing-in’ arrows. But what if that Ferrari appears around the bend going like the clappers? That point-of-return will be far too late. So we need to build in a much bigger margin – essentially, if we cannot return to the left WELL BEFORE the arrows, we really shouldn’t commit ourselves. Likewise, we shouldn’t be cutting back in right in front of the vehicle we’ve just past. A ‘well-judged’ overtake that returns just before the solid line is actually an overtake with no margin for error. And with no margin, they have a habit of going wrong.

The final reason for hitting something head-on is because we attempt a multi-vehicle pass, aiming for a gap somewhere ahead, and the gap closes leaving us hung out to dry. Firstly, the old pilot’s adage – never take-off without knowing where to land. We need to be absolutely certain of a gap to return to on the nearside. I’m highly cautious overtaking towards oncoming traffic, even when there appears to be a gap, because it may close up. I’ve had drivers try to help me out by braking just as I’m planning on pulling back behind them, and I’ve also been caught out passing vehicles that are themselves catching a slower-moving HGV. So we need to be really sure that the gap will still be there when we need it. Really, we should have TWO gaps to aim for – our intended landing zone and a back-up. And of course, if the car we’re intending to pull in behind suddenly brakes to ‘help out’, it’s possible to run into the back of it. That’s a sign the landing zone was too short!

Q But what about the collision with the car turning right? If I’m overtaking and someone turns right, it’s not my fault is it? He’s supposed to check his mirror, isn’t he?

A Unfortunately, riders think they have a ‘right to overtake’ and that it’s the driver’s responsibility to keep them safe. Motorcycle News went as far as putting a “Think bike before turning right” sticker on an issue years back, telling riders to put them on petrol pumps. I’m not even going to go into all the reasons drivers miss bikes in the mirrors. I’m simply going to ask you, if a car COULD turn right, what on earth is the biker doing overtaking just there?

That campaign was another excuse for riders not thinking for themselves. On a quiet bit of road, take a look at all the places a vehicle COULD turn right – side turnings, access roads, petrol stations… they’re all obvious. What about driveways? Is it always easy to see the drive of a cottage on a country road? Where can a tractor turn right? Anywhere it likes. Knowing how difficult some of these places are to spot detunes me compared with less-cautious riders.

Because it’s hard to spot a lot of the places where a vehicle COULD turn, we need to be really on the ball. We can watch the vehicle itself for clues. If it’s just slowed down, that’s not an invitation to overtake, but a warning sign. Watch the driver to see where they’re looking – if it’s not ahead, it could be where they are about to turn. We need to be particularly careful when we’ve just caught a slower vehicle up, particularly on a twisty road or if we’ve just overtaken from behind – the driver may not have seen us. If we do decide to pass, there’s the horn? A short note just before we fully commit will warn him we’re are there!

Q So if I’m sure the driver won’t turn right, I’m safe to overtake, right?

A Wrong. What goes in must come out. If a vehicle can turn right, another can pull out. Most of us – bikers included – look right before turning out to the left. Expecting a motorcycle on the wrong side of the centre line is not in most road users’ minds when they prepare to emerge. Watch out for lay-bys too – drivers are usually searching for traffic in their mirrors.

Q OK, so I’ll take care to look for junctions on the right, but what’s the problem overtaking a car turning left?

A Simple. Here’s one issue. The slowing vehicle swings out wide to make the turn easy and sideswipes the bike into the undergrowth. Surprisingly common. Another is that a second vehicle pulls out ahead of us because our bike is in the blind spot behind the turning vehicle, and the driver’s not expecting anything to be overtaking. If the driver turns right, they’ll be looking left too, and we’ll have a head-on. If the driver turns left, that may be the gap we were planning on moving back into. And of course, the driver may cancel the signal and carry on, hanging us out to dry on the wrong side of the centre line.

And here’s one that nearly caught me out as a courier. I went to pass a car that was turning left on a wide road, but the driver flashed another driver of a car that was waiting to turn right in the same road, intending for him to cross first into the side road. The second driver started to turn, then spotted me bearing down on him and stopped! The road ahead of me was now almost completely blocked. Fortunately I’d long since learned to keep the speed down when overtaking, and was able to stop.

Q So, I’ve finally decided it’s safe to pass – with my powerful bike I should be able to get past as quickly as possible, right?

A Wrong. The performance of modern bikes is a trap, not an advantage, partly because modern cars and trucks are a lot quicker too and partly because the straights on our roads haven’t got any longer. And once we’ve gained speed, we have to lose it again. Especially when we’re passing more than one vehicle, if we simply aim to pass “as quickly as possible” (and I winced when I heard another instructor say that) sooner rather than later we’ll end up regretting all that speed as things don’t go as we expected ahead. It may be tempting to blast past a line of slower vehicles, but we need to treat each individually as a separate overtake and be able to bail out at each stage – if we’re thinking of overtaking, what’s to stop one of those drivers doing exactly the same? So if the only way to pull off the overtake is in one hit at high speed, then don’t.

Q So what’s so risky about overtaking on dual carriageways?

A One of the biggest dangers are junctions where vehicles can turn through the central reservation. These junctions are relatively rare (most have been blocked up) but the crash risk is high. Even when there is no crossing the lanes, slip roads are often very short with emerging drivers struggling to gain speed to match the traffic bearing down. The result can be hard braking or sudden lane changes ahead. In either case, I usually defer overtaking till I’m clear of the junction, unless I can see that the junction’s clear.

Most of the other issues are down to speed differentials. Slow-moving vehicles including cycles and tractors are allowed on dual carriageways and we can come up on them quickly, so we need to look and plan well ahead so we can move out in good time. If we’re already passing slower traffic, look for cars in the inside lane catching HGVs that will probably want to pull out to overtake themselves. Don’t hover alongside in mirror blindspots and don’t approach at excessive speed – you may need to slow down if they pull out. suddenly in front of you, so don’t sit in their blind spots. On three lane stretches, watch out for someone moving from the inside lane as we move back into the middle lane from the outside lane. A signal helps enormously.

And before we move out to make a pass, a series of mirror checks is best followed by a final blind spot shoulder check. However good our mirror checks, there’s always the risk of finding a vehicle lurking right in the OUR blind spot.

Q So I just sit behind the vehicle ahead and wait for a big gap.

A Sort of. The simplest way to overtake is if we can simply move out wide early to get a view past the slower vehicle – if the road ahead looks clear, we simply carry on and our speed differential carries us past the slower vehicle. And if it’s not clear, we simply move back in, then match speed.

But once we have to wait for a gap, then our first decision is how far behind the slower vehicle we should ride. If you’ve read ‘Motorcycle Roadcraft’ (or taken Roadcraft-based training) you’ve probably heard of the ‘following’ and ‘overtaking’ positions.

Essentially, the ‘following’ position is the normal distance behind the vehicle ahead, which allows us to stop if the vehicle ahead comes to an unexpected halt. That’s where we should be when there’s no prospect of overtaking. But if we think we may have an opportunity to pass, then it’s suggested we move up into a much closer ‘overtaking’ position from where we make the final Go/Stay decision.

Now, the big problem is that we’ve compromised our following distance. In theory, we only move up when we think we might be able to pass and if it turns out we can’t, we should drop back again and reinstate a safe distance. On a lightly-trafficked road, we should be able to make the overtake without too much delay and just a couple of forwards / backwards iterations, and that was likely the case on most roads when Roadcraft was first written to deal with 50s and 60s traffic.

Unfortunately, real life and heavy 21st century traffic intrudes on the theory.

The first observation I’ll make (and one that I have never heard anyone else explicitly admit) is that the only reason we NEED to use the closer ‘overtaking’ position is because we’re looking for to overtake in less distance – either a shorter straight between bends, or a smaller gap between oncoming vehicles. That restricted distance is why we need to be closer up in the first place. If that weren’t the case, we could overtake from the more distant position.

The second issue (also rarely mentioned) is that we’re often being followed by other vehicles. The drivers will of course maintain THEIR OWN following distance behind us. As we move up, they stay the same distance behind us. So when we try to drop back, we drop back into THEIR following space. And they are now too close behind. Put that together with a busy 21st century road and this moving up / dropping back means we’re ping-ponging back and forth from the tailgate of the car ahead to the bonnet of the car behind. If we make this forwards/backwards movement too exaggerated or too often, it can and will confuse and irritate the driver ahead (who is watching you in the mirrors) and the driver behind (who wonders why you can’t ride at a constant speed).

On a busy road, the temptation is to sit permanently in the close-up overtaking position waiting for the next opportunity because we don’t have so far to travel, but the lack of following distance not only increases the risk if the car ahead slows suddenly, it actually interferes with our observation – if we’re worried about running into the back of the car, then that’s what we focus on – and we end up watching its brake lights rather than the road ahead or even our mirrors. Riders who say “I don’t have time to take my eyes of the road and make a shoulder check before overtaking” are admitting they’re too close. We also have to move out first THEN accelerate if we’re too close behind – overtakes often become ‘swoops’ ending with excessive speed making it difficult to pull promptly back to the left.

You might read something like “moving up to the overtaking position is a difficult skill to learn – timing it right requires excellent observation and planning and anticipation too”. I actually wrote that in the previous version of this article, but being totally honest, this forwards / backwards business quickly becomes exhausting. If it was needed for one overtake, the chances are it’ll be needed for the next… and the next… and so on. And my old courier instinct to make life simple kicks in. If overtakes are that tricky, I probably won’t bother – at least, not till a simple opportunity comes along and I am pretty sure I DO will have an opportunity to pass. I may miss a few overtakes, but I am reducing my exposure to risk significantly.

Q So how do YOU plan an overtake from the following position?

A Typically, I’ll be looking for a straight after a right-hand bend where my following position behind the vehicle ahead will actually give me a good, clear view of both sides of the road – remember, I’m not just looking to see if something is coming the other way, but searching for junctions ahead which could be on either side of the road. If clear, I’ll turn from the final part of the corner straight onto the other side of the road and accelerate whilst the vehicle I’m passing is just exiting the curve. This means getting my rear observations and gear changing done in advance. Done right, the acceleration from the following position to the overtaking position and into the overtake is one smooth movement. We shouldn’t have to accelerate hard or brake hard to dip back in.

Q I find that by the time I’ve moved up to the following position to the overtaking position, the opportunity has gone

A This is why forward planning is so important.

Q I get impatient waiting for cars to overtake. I signalled, so why do they always pull out in front of me just as I want to go?

A Remember other vehicles (most cars and all trucks) have much less acceleration than we do, and will need a much bigger gap to pass, so as soon as such a gap appears it’s a good idea to be ready for the driver to go for the overtake. The average car driver has a lot less practice at overtaking, and will be focusing all his / her attention on the road ahead, so don’t expect your signal to be spotted. And if the car ahead has already signalled, don’t attempt to bully your way through by accelerating more rapidly. Collisions with vehicles ahead moving out to pass out are not uncommon, so be cautious.

Drivers are far more likely to make a mistake and do something dangerous for both of you if you are right on the back bumper. In particular do not harass learner drivers. In any case, hanging back and giving the driver ahead ‘first go’ is polite – dropping back makes it clear that we’re not intending to pass there and then, and that may help the driver ahead make a prompt decision. We may be able to follow through in the same gap, or even pass the overtaking car a moment later. And if the driver does have second thoughts and decide not to use the big gap after all, we can probably still pass ourselves – don’t forget rear observations in case someone behind has seen the big gap, and be ready with a horn warning in case of a last-second change-of-mind by the driver ahead.

Q On my RoSPA test, the things I was marked down for were:
1) changing gear mid overtake
2) following position too aggressive
3) overtook next to a left hand junction

A Hopefully by now you’ll have seen that because most overtaking takes place in a brief window of opportunity, we have to be absolutely prepared to go when that opportunity arises. If we are having to change gear mid-overtake, we clearly weren’t in the right gear to start with, and so we weren’t planning far enough ahead. We may have got away with it on that occasion, but on another overtake which doesn’t turn out as we might rue that missed acceleration. And we’ve already seen the problems of sitting too close to a slower vehicle, and the risks arising from overtaking near a junction.

Q So is any overtake necessary?

A If not overtaking means becoming part of a mobile road block, then the answer is a guarded yes. For example, if we cannot overtake a slow-moving tractor, then we’re adding the the hazard it’s creating, because other drivers will now have to overtake two vehicles, rather than just the tractor. And that puts us at additional risk. But once we are riding along in the general flow, then overtakes are ‘nice’ rather than ‘necessary’.

Q Anything else?

A However quick you are, there will be someone quicker. Mirrors and blind spot checks are essential. Riders DO get taken out by vehicles they haven’t seen catching them from behind. And if you’ve not got time for a blind spot check? You’re rushing the overtake.

Q So what’s a good system for overtaking?

A If we want to make a safe overtake, it’s all about doing it methodically. SEARCH, EVALUATE, EXECUTE. There are plenty of guides to safe [sic] overtaking out there, so this article focuses on understanding the risks. Here are four simple rules to remember:

ONE – just because you COULD, doesn’t mean you SHOULD. If our attitude is “if I didn’t overtake I might as well be in a car” then it’s the wrong attitude. Although ‘progress’ is often talked about as the result of advanced training, what we really should be doing is performing better risk assessments and making better risk management decisions.

TWO – overtaking is NICE, rarely NECESSARY. We should be looking at overtaking as a high risk activity, not somewhere to show off our technical skill. Skills should be used to build margins for error by asking “how could this go wrong?”

THREE – if we’re thinking of an overtake, then so is someone else. And that someone might be ahead or behind. We need to be able to change our plan on an instant.

FOUR – if we don’t KNOW, we don’t GO! A lot of overtakes that go wrong fail because the rider’s taken a chance. And it didn’t work out.

Q Aren’t we being too cautious? Everyone knows bikes overtake cars.

A But bikes are also ‘out of sight, out of mind’. Because we can use smaller gaps, most drivers won’t be considering an overtake, so the possibility that a bike will be passing won’t occur to them – we have to get into the habit of doing the other driver’s thinking for them.

Riding a bike is great fun, but there are few manoeuvres where speeds of vehicles are so high and the risks so high. It’s no consolation that the words on our tombstone read “I had right of way”.

50. A time to live…

Not long ago, I heard a rider raving about his new bike. His LED lights enabled him to ride faster at night, his high-tech semi-active suspension allowed him to corner faster, and his cornering ABS would sort out the problems… at least, that’s what he believed. The problem he hadn’t spotted is that no-one had upgraded the ‘wetware’ behind the bars. Despite these undoubted advances, a major cause of serious motorcycle crashes remains late perception — by the rider, by other road users, or both. This article’s central thesis is that time is a fundamental survival currency, and the more of it we have, the better-off we are. It’s just is as valid today as it ever was. Nothing here has yet been invalidated by technology.


A time to live…

Have you ever been floored by an unexpected question? I have. I’m not a quick thinker on my feet. It’s why I’m not great at interviews – I like to have someone give me a question and then have time to think about the answer. The same applies out on the road. Putting ourselves in a position where we need to come up with a quick response to an unexpected question, a riding problem that requires a rapid solution causes many of us difficulties. Not surprisingly, what happens unexpectedly is a prime cause of crashes.

So let’s take some time to think about a question for you. What do:

  1. “See and be seen”
  2. “Only a fool breaks the two second rule”
  3. “Position wide for view in a bend”

…all have in common?

The first is straight from basic training, the second is from a road safety campaign, and the third is a general axiom any advanced rider will recognise.

Answer – they all give us time on the road.

What is so important about time? It’s a window of opportunity to see potential danger, and offers time to think what to do. The earlier we spot danger and the more time we have, the more likely we are to make the right decision.

Given enough time, we’d never over-cook it in bends, never be surprised when someone pulls out in front of us, never be caught out by a poor surface.

So gaining space and time is not a luxury, it’s a necessity.

But it doesn’t just work for the rider. We have to be in the right place to seen by other road users so that they too have time to understand what they are seeing, and how they can respond to our presence.

And that’s where ‘See and Be Seen’ must be applied. It’s something we try to hammer into new riders on basic training courses, but so often experienced riders – even those with post-test credentials – seem to have forgotten the basic lessons, and ride as if they are unaware of the risks posed by blind areas and ‘Surprise Horizons’ which may conceal a vehicle. Unless we put ourselves in a place where we CAN be seen, then there’s little chance that driver will consider the possibility that there might be a motorcycle approaching. And when we appear and SURPRISE! other drivers and they are unlikely to react predictably!

An awful lot of “Sorry Mate, I didn’t see you” SMIDSY collisions happen when the biker is hidden in traffic or behind road furniture, or behind the car’s own bodywork. Some studies have estimated it’s around one in five of all ‘Looked But Failed To See’ collisions.

Our lack of width on two wheel is both a disadvantage (it makes us harder to spot) and an advantage (it allows us to change position).

Use the one to compensate for the other. See and be seen. Find some time and use it to live.

49. The ‘Point and Squirt’ approach to corners

This particular article has its origins in some heated debates that took place online on my regular bike forum. The core problem it addresses — riders committing to a corner before they can see their way out — is still one of the most common precursors to serious road crashes. The debates concerned the difference between what some called ‘conventional’ cornering lines, and what I have been teaching since 1997 as the ‘Point and Squirt’ technique. Point and Squirt has its origins in a series of articles published in the 1980s in the old Motorcycle Sport and Leisure magazine, one of which showed some cornering diagrams which featured a ‘late apex’ line. I’d long since realised that running wide on the exit to bend was best avoided and the late apex line got me thinking, and also experimenting – not just with late apex, but with a quicker steering input to make the best use of it. That was something that went pretty much against the grain at the time. It was usually stated that machine inputs should be smooth. The trouble was, smooth was usually interpreted as ‘slow’. But the fact is that quick steering inputs can be also smooth. It’s all in the timing. I developed over many despatching miles, and when I started training it was a natural way to cover cornering. Point and Squirt remains relevant precisely because it is based on vision, timing, and options. The fact that modern bikes accelerate harder, steer faster, and forgive more errors only increases the importance of when riders choose to turn and apply throttle.


The ‘Point and Squirt’ approach to corners

Let’s go back to basics. Riding a bike requires us to be able to:

  • change speed
  • change direction

That’s all that the machine itself can do. Of course, there are other issues:

  • managing stability
  • managing risk

But it’s our ability to change speed and direction first and foremost that allows us to manage stability and risk in a bend. So what I teach on my Survival Skills Performance cornering courses is all about getting these basics right.

Here’s the first point to consider. It’s easy to get a motorcycle to either change direction OR change speed. We can mix-and-match, but it’s not so easy. So whenever we can, it makes sense to separate the braking and acceleration forces from cornering forces. On the approach to a corner we can achieve that quite simply – we get all deceleration, whether by closing the throttle or braking, completed upright before the corner. Once we’ve finished steering – which is the moment the bike is clear of the curve and upright again – we accelerate positively. So it’s this late turn-in and the upright acceleration which gives the technique the ‘Point and Squirt’ name.

What we don’t try to do is ‘chase the Limit Point’ by accelerating whilst still leaned over in the curve, as it says in ‘Motorcycle Roadcraft’. With Point and Squirt, when the machine is leaned over, it’s ONLY having to deal with the cornering forces.

Now, here’s the second point. To minimise risk, we need to respond to hazards, whether that’s the shape of the corner itself, the presence of other vehicles and places they could turn, the state of the road surface and possible stability problems, or other issues such pedestrians and animals. To manage the risks posed by those hazards, we have to SEE them – or at least realise that we CANNOT see them! So until a mid-corner hazard forces a change of position on us, our line around the bend is dictated by what we can see. The line that gives us the best view of the road ahead is what I call the ‘Vision Line’, and we follow it from the moment we enter the corner to the point at which we can clearly see where the road goes next. To maintain the view, we usually position ourselves towards the outer edge of our lane, just so long as we don’t put ourselves at risk from oncoming vehicles (on a left-hander in the UK) or blind entrances or debris at the edge of the road (on a right-hander).

And thirdly. We need to know where we are in a bend – we need some kind of road map. And this is where I borrow from track technique – we can define ANY corner in terms of:

  1. the ‘entry’ – where the bend forces us to steer or run off the road
  2. the ‘turn-in point’ – where we can see the exit
  3. the ‘exit’ – where we’re upright again and pointed to where we want to go next.

Once we realise that committing ourselves to turning-in to a corner when we can’t see our way out of the bend is liable to lead to us running wide later in the corner, then it’s fairly obvious that we should only turn-in and attempt to widen the line around the final part of the corner when the view opens up for good. It’s this view of the way out – the exit – that locates the ‘turn-in point’. Using a late ‘turn-in point’ minimises the risk of turning in too early, and running wide later in the bend.

Why the controversy? Firstly, I was told “it’s in Roadcraft already”. It isn’t, although there are common elements such as the wide ‘vision line’. But the Point and Squirt approach emphasises the advantage of separating from the steering the inputs that make the bike do a ‘rocking horse’ on the brakes or under power. It also emphasises the late turn-in, late apex line. And it requires a moderately quick steering to make the direction change when the view opens up. Whilst it’s always possible to interpret ‘Roadcraft’ that way by reading between the lines, none of these elements are made explicitly clear as they are in Point and Squirt.

A more negative view was that Point and Squirt is a racing technique. Because I was talking about braking rather than simply rolling off the throttle, it was assumed that it must be all about dashing up to the corner before braking late and hard, and that the late ‘turn-in’ would result in the rider banging the bike over on its side before firing it out with a handful of throttle and wheelspin. Clearly that’s NOT what I’m suggesting. Of course, if we want to, we could brake later and harder, then maximise acceleration out of the turn, but getting through the corner quicker isn’t the raison d’etre. A moment’s thought will show that because Point and Squirt is about views and lines, it works just as well with a police-style ‘acceleration sense’ approach to riding.

What else? “Point and Squirt line’s ‘late apex’ requires a big steering input which could destabilise the bike.” It’s true that Point and Squirt gets the bike turned over a shorter distance, but if we’re travelling a little more slowly, it’s not a problem – in any case, there’s nearly always plenty of grip available to steer the machine, mid-corner it’s braking and accelerating grip that’s in short supply. We also get the bike upright sooner which is a benefit.

And “by taking a very late apex and making a more rapid change of direction, a rider is prevented from reducing the severity of a bend by ‘maximising the radius of the corner’.” Whilst in theory, this wider line ‘works the tyres less hard’ – that’s the very explanation given in a West Midlands BikeSafe video, the reality of what riders do with a wider line is very different. We all use it to carry more speed, not lean over less. The benefits are non-existant! What was really ironic in the West Midlands video was that having explained the benefits of the maximum radius line, the police rider then demonstrated a sequence of perfect Point and Squirt lines!

A more reasonable response was that it doesn’t apply to all corners. I’d totally agree, but I’d point out that it all comes back to the view. If we can see clearly right through the corner from one end to the other, then there’s no need to delay our ‘turn-in’, and we can indeed open out our line to ‘maximise the radius’ but in the UK at least, it’s rare to find a corner where there is nothing blocking our line of sight. Turning in too early means we’re relying on guesswork to figure out where the road goes. Even then, the wide exit means our steering must be spot on. If we get it wrong, we’ll run wide. What defines Point and Squirt is that delayed ‘turn-in’ which is controlled entirely by our view of the way out of the bend. That means it applies to any corner where we can’t see the exit on the way in, which happens to be most bends in the UK. And it’s also an excellent way to negotiate mountain hairpins where running wide could be catastrophic.

Nothing about Point and Squirt is particularly unique – you can find elements of it in various different books. What is unique is that way it’s all put together, and how it pulls all aspects of cornering – assessment of the bend, managing risk along the way, choosing a line and timing machine inputs – into one neat and self-contained system.

Funnily enough, right in the middle of the big online debate Andy Ibbott used his MCN column to explain how to “Separate throttle and steering and never run wide again”. Covering precisely the theory behind Point and Squirt, he stated:

“We need to get the bike pointing in the right direction before applying the throttle”.

My point exactly!