15 Things Car Drivers Need to Know About Motorcycles
It happens two or three times a day. I’m riding around town and some asshole pulls right in front of me, almost running me off the road. I take evasive action, safety first , and then, yeah, I’m more likely to gun the motor, flip you off, and yell obscenities than hit the horn. For some reason, my thumb never finds that damn horn button when I actually need it.
I’ve had people jump out in front of me, turning right on red (when I had the right of way), then shaking their fists at the next light like I’m the asshole. Some even want to fight me because they think I’m following too closely. Trust me, I know what “too close” looks like.
Side note: bad idea to come at me with fists. I carry a .357. If you threaten my life, you’ll find yourself with a hole in your chest where your bravado used to be.
I know this will probably fall on deaf ears, but just in case one of you four-wheeled assholes can still read (and aren’t glued to your phones doing 65 in a 30), here are a few things you should know about bikers and why we ride the way we do.
Things Every Car Driver Should Know About Motorcycles
Lane positioning isn’t about you. If I’m to one side, I’m not trying to pass. I’m trying to see through your tinted-ass suburban so I don’t ride blind.
Taking off fast at a light? I’m not racing you. I’m creating space. And no, your Kia isn’t going to beat me if I decide to actually race.
Yes, we ride faster. It’s safer. Going your speed means we get boxed in. Going slower makes us the hazard. Faster gives us options. Deal with it.
At a hot light, we’re anxious because we’re cooking. Air-cooled engines + blacktop = hell. Our A/C is the throttle.
Following distance is different. Bikes can stop and move way faster than cars. Don’t judge us by car rules.
If you cut me off, you don’t get to be mad. I’ll get on your ass because you should’ve looked.
We see you texting, drifting. Stop it.
That weed cloud out your window? It hits me in the face. I ride clear-headed. Maybe try it.
In the rain, I’ll pass you. Less spray, more visibility. Let me.
At lights, don’t block me out of the empty lane. You’re slow. I’m not.
At a stop, I’ll slide to one side. Gives me an escape route if someone rear-ends us. Don’t like it? Change the damn laws to allow lane splitting.
Brake-checking a bike is assault. You’re playing with my life. Tread carefully.
Earbuds aren’t for music. They’re hearing protection. Don’t expect me to pull them out just to hear you at a light.
Weaving in traffic? Not dangerous for a bike. We fit where cars don’t. It’s safer up front.
When you drift onto the shoulder, you’re sandblasting me. I don’t care if you’re watching TV, rolling a joint, or stroking your girl — when your tires hit gravel, it sprays right into my face. Dirt, rocks, glass, whatever’s loose on the shoulder. You’re not just sloppy, you’re actively putting me at risk.
