Behavior Correction Plan

When I’m out riding, I constantly find myself wishing I could capture some of the things I see.

Not just the gorgeous parts either, though New Mexico absolutely delivers on those. The mountain views. The endless desert light. Thunderstorms rolling across distant mesas. Empty highways stretching toward the horizon while the bike hums beneath you at speeds that make your soul briefly leave your body.

The Southwest is stunning on two wheels.

But then there are the drivers.

Holy FUCK are there the drivers.

If non-riders understood the sheer volume of stupidity motorcycle riders navigate every single day, they’d never casually say things like: “I just didn’t see the motorcycle.”

Yeah. No shit.

Because apparently nobody sees anything anymore.

People drift across lane lines constantly now like they’re steering cruise ships instead of two-ton vehicles. They turn right on red without even glancing left first. They run red lights. They stare into glowing rectangles while piloting steel missiles through intersections.

And then there’s the weed.

Jesus Christ, the fucking weed.

I can’t even count how many times I’ve rolled up behind a car at a stoplight only to get hit with a cloud of marijuana smoke pouring out the window.

What the actual fuck are we doing as a society? You seriously can’t drive to Target for diapers without first getting chemically recalibrated?

And before somebody gets all worked up: yes, alcohol is worse. That’s not the point.

The point is: maybe operating heavy machinery in public traffic shouldn’t involve voluntarily impairing your reaction time.

Crazy concept, I know.

Honestly, part of me wants to buy one of those little airline whiskey shooters, dump the alcohol out, refill it with colored water, and keep a couple in my saddlebag.

Then the next time I see someone ripping a joint at a stoplight, I can roll down my visor and go: “Good idea, one sec.” Then just crack the fake whiskey bottle and slam it dramatically in front of them.

Honestly? That might be the funniest thing I’ve ever done.

But my larger point is this: Riding a motorcycle means existing in a constant state of awareness because so many drivers are mentally absent.

After my accident, that awareness turned into hypervigilance.

And honestly? I’m angry now. I have zero tolerance left for inattentive drivers.

None.

People love to frame bad driving as: “Oops!”

No. Not when motorcycles are involved.

There is no harmless “oops” when a distracted driver drifts six inches into your lane at highway speeds. That “oops” can kill someone instantly.

So now, whenever I see a driver doing dumb shit, I immediately start running what I jokingly refer to as my Behavior Correction Plan.

BCP.

Step One: Always have an escape route planned.

Step Two: Crack the throttle and let the pipes wake the dead.

Step Three: Deploy the bird.

Step Four: Begin screaming.

And yes, I absolutely scream at drivers.

Loudly.

Because if I hadn’t already seen them drifting, texting, merging blindly, or otherwise behaving like a confused Roomba with a license plate, I might not make it home.

That changes a person.

Which brings me to the fun part.

I finally pulled the trigger on a full camera setup for the bike. And when I say “camera setup,” I apparently mean: “financially irresponsible rolling production studio.”

I bought:

• an Insta360 X5

• multiple mounting systems

• a giant memory card

• upgraded batteries

• lens guards

• a motorcycle clamp system

• enough accessories to probably document the fall of civilization from six different camera angles

Total damage: just over a thousand bucks.

Worth it.

Because I want to capture all of it now.

The beautiful rides.
The landscapes.
The storms.
The little roadside moments.

And yes: the idiots.

Partly for entertainment.
Partly for liability.
Partly because maybe people need to SEE how bad distracted driving has become.

Maybe if enough people watch near misses from a rider’s perspective, they’ll finally understand that motorcycles aren’t abstract little NPCs floating through traffic.

We’re human fucking beings.

Fragile ones.

And honestly? Maybe some drivers will see themselves in the footage and realize they need to do better.

Or maybe I’ll just end up with hours of footage of me screaming profanity into the New Mexico wind while Aurora devours asphalt at irresponsible speeds.

Either way: mediocre content coming soon.