Motorcycles Aren't the Problem

I'm pissed.

Not because I got a citation.

Not because I have to stand in front of a judge.

I'm pissed because I'm tired of living in a world where the people trying the hardest not to die are the ones who keep getting lectured about safety.

Last year, a woman turned left in front of my motorcycle.

I wasn't speeding. I wasn't riding recklessly.

I was wearing a DOT-approved helmet. I had bright LED lighting. I had thousands of miles under my belt. I was simply riding home from work when another driver looked directly at me and never actually saw me. The result was multiple facial fractures, broken ribs, a collapsed lung, a broken arm, broken bones in my foot, a TBI, a ripped fucking face, months of rehabilitation, and a helicopter ride I don't remember.

She didn't get a ticket.

Not one.

Fast forward to this week.

I was riding home through wet monsoon traffic on Aurora, my Harley Breakout.

No windshield.

Every car in front of me was throwing water, grit, and sand into my face and onto my goggles. Every passing tire was turning the road into a pressure washer aimed directly at my face.

Visibility matters on a motorcycle.

Getting out in front wasn't about getting somewhere faster. It was about getting somewhere where I could actually fucking see again.

But apparently that's dangerous.

A young police officer pulled me over and informed me that I'd been weaving through traffic and that, by definition, what I was doing was unsafe.

I told him no, it wasn't.

Because it wasn't.

Here's what frustrates me.

I've spent months writing about motorcycle safety.

I've written about why riders change lane position. It isn't weaving. It's about seeing farther ahead, being seen by other drivers, avoiding debris, and maintaining an escape route.

I've written about why we accelerate away from traffic. Not because we're racing, but because open space is one of the safest places a motorcycle can be.

I've written about why experienced riders assume they're invisible, because too many drivers honestly believe they looked when they never actually saw us.

I've written about drivers drifting onto the shoulder and launching sand and gravel into a rider's face. About debris flying off vehicles. About distracted driving. About maintaining escape routes because motorcycles don't have airbags or crumple zones.

Every one of those articles came back to the same idea: What looks strange from inside a car often makes perfect sense from the saddle.

Apparently that message hasn't reached everyone.

Including some of the people enforcing traffic laws.

While I sat on the shoulder listening to a lecture about motorcycle safety, I watched four more cars drift over their lane lines.

Four.

Not because they were moving over for the traffic stop.

Not because they were changing lanes.

After they'd already passed us.

They simply drifted.

Exactly the kind of distracted driving that kills motorcyclists every single day.

The officer never even noticed. He was too busy running my information to make sure I wasn't a convicted felon.

That's what scares me.

Because if the people writing citations don't understand why riders ride the way they do, then we're not enforcing safety. We're enforcing appearances.

We're punishing behavior because it looks unusual to someone sitting inside a steel cage with airbags, windshield wipers, climate control, and a five-star crash rating.

Then it got even better.

When it was time for me to leave, his patrol car was parked in a way that completely blocked my view of oncoming traffic.

Instead of moving his vehicle, he instructed me to cross a patch of wet grass and use the entrance lane to merge back onto the highway.

Grass. On a motorcycle.

Then merge into traffic I couldn't even see because his patrol car was blocking my view.

The man who had just spent fifteen minutes explaining motorcycle safety to me had created one of the most dangerous situations I'd encountered all day.

Every decision I make on a motorcycle starts with one question: "If this driver does something stupid in the next three seconds, where do I go?"

That's how riders think.

Because we have to.

And then there's the question every rider eventually gets asked after someone gets hurt: "Were they wearing a helmet?"

Think about that for a second.

Imagine someone dies in a head-on collision between two cars. Does the first question become, "Well... were they wearing their seatbelt?"

Of course not.

The first question is usually, "Who caused the crash?"

With motorcycles, we flip that around.

We immediately start auditing the victim.

Were they wearing a helmet?

A jacket?

Gloves?

Boots?

Reflective gear?

Were they trained?

Were they visible?

Were they speeding?

Did they have ABS?

It's amazing how often we interrogate the rider before we examine the person who created the danger in the first place.

Yes, wear the gear.

Yes, get the training.

Yes, ride defensively.

Every rider I know believes those things.

But let's stop pretending the helmet is the reason we need helmets.

The helmet exists because cars are dangerous.

Motorcycle jackets exist because cars are dangerous.

Airbag vests exist because cars are dangerous.

Defensive riding courses exist because cars are dangerous.

The techniques we use to stay visible, create space, and maintain escape routes exist because cars and their shitty drivers are fucking dangerous.

Nearly every piece of motorcycle safety equipment and nearly every riding habit non-riders think looks "aggressive" exists to compensate for the mistakes of someone else.

And yet, when those mistakes happen, we still find ourselves asking what the motorcyclist could have done differently.

I'm tired of hearing that motorcycles are dangerous.

No. They’re not. People are dangerous.

Motorcycles just make the consequences impossible to ignore.

Maybe it's time we stopped treating riders as the problem and started holding accountable the people who create the dangers we're forced to ride around every single day.