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The Mirror Doesn't Lie: 10 Hard Truths We Refuse to Own

Daboo

Member
Member
Just saw this on Facebook. It was worth passing along as a refresher since spring has sprung.


The Mirror Doesn’t Lie: 10 Hard Truths We Refuse to Own

We’ve all been there. We come home, adrenaline still spiked, cursing the "idiot" in the silver SUV who merged without looking. We take to the forums, we post the GoPro footage, and we soak up the validation of our peers. We play the victim because it’s a comfortable role to inhabit.​

But if we are being honest—brutally, uncomfortably honest—most of us are walking contradictions. We demand 100% perfection from every distracted teenager and tired commuter on the road, yet we rarely hold ourselves to that same standard. We are selfish with the asphalt, we are "spirited" when it suits us, and we are far from blameless.​

It is time to stop the collective gaslighting. If we want to stay alive and improve the safety of the roads we claim to love, we have to stop telling ourselves these ten lies.​

1. "They Came Out of Nowhere"​

Unless that car teleported from a different dimension, they didn't come out of nowhere. We simply weren't looking far enough ahead, or we were traveling at a velocity that made us invisible to the human eye's ability to process depth. When we ride 30 km/h over the flow of traffic, we forfeit the right to be surprised when someone pulls out. We are small, we are fast, and that is a "us" problem, not a "them" problem.​

2. "Loud Pipes Save Lives"​

This is the ultimate security blanket. We tell ourselves that the roar of our exhaust is a safety feature, but physics says otherwise. Sound travels backward, and modern cars are rolling soundproof booths. If you want to be seen, wear high-visibility gear or improve your lane positioning. If you want a loud bike, just admit you like the noise. Don't wrap your vanity in the flag of "safety."​

3. "I Had to Lay Her Down"​

No, you didn't. "Laying it down" is an admission that you panicked and gave up on your brakes and tires—the two things most likely to save you. Sliding on plastic and chrome is significantly less effective at shedding speed than rubber on pavement. If you ended up on the ground before the impact, you crashed twice. We need to stop romanticizing a lack of braking skill.​

4. "It’s Always the Driver’s Fault"​

We love the "Look Twice" stickers, and they aren't wrong. But we often put ourselves in positions where a driver couldn't see us even if they looked three times. Lingering in blind spots, weaving through traffic with zero predictability, and assuming the right-of-way is an iron shield are choices we make. If a driver makes a mistake and we are there to be hit, we shared in the preparation of that accident.​

5. "I Can Handle My Bike at This Speed"​

Maybe you can—on a closed track with run-off zones and no oncoming traffic. On a public road, "handling it" is a delusion. You cannot account for the patch of gravel, the deer, or the spilled diesel in the mid-corner. Riding at 9/10ths on a public road isn't skill; it’s a statistical gamble where the house eventually wins.​

6. "The Road Is My Personal Playground"​

We get "spirited." We treat the twisties like a private circuit. But the road is a shared utility. When we treat every apex like a qualifying lap, we are being inherently selfish. We expect other road users to be predictable while we are intentionally being the most unpredictable element in the environment.​

7. "My Gear Makes Me Invincible"​

Top-tier armor and the best boots on the market are incredible tools, but they aren't magic. We use our gear as a justification to take higher risks. This "risk compensation" is a silent killer. Gear is there to mitigate the consequences of a mistake, not to provide a license to make them.​

8. "I’m a Better Driver Because I’m a Rider"​

We like to think riding makes us more aware. For some, it does. For others, it just makes us more arrogant. We become "road vigilantes," Rev-bombing people for minor infractions or kicking mirrors because we felt slighted. Being a rider doesn't give us a moral high ground; it gives us a higher stakes responsibility.​

9. "I Don't Need Regular Training"​

Most riders take one course to get their license and never receive professional instruction again. We "learn" through years of repeating the same bad habits. If you haven't practiced an emergency swerve or a full-pressure threshold brake in the last month, you aren't an "experienced" rider—you're just a lucky one.​

10. "The Victim Card Is My Right"​

This is the hardest one to swallow. We love the narrative of the "vulnerable road user." And while we are physically vulnerable, we often use that as a shield to deflect criticism of our own reckless behavior. We cannot demand respect while acting disrespectfully.​

We cannot demand safety while riding dangerously.​

The Call to Action​

We need to stop the "us vs. them" mentality. It isn't working. If we want to change the culture of road safety, it starts with the person in the helmet.​

Own your mistakes. Improve your lane filtering etiquette. Practice your low-speed maneuvers. Slow down in the blind spots. Most importantly, stop lying to yourself. The road doesn't care about your ego, and it certainly doesn't care about your excuses.​

Ride like you are invisible, act like you are responsible for everyone’s safety—not just your own—and let’s stop being the victims of the risks we chose to take.​

 
Here's what my reply was:

Good words. Some thoughts...
1. Nobody comes out of nowhere. I'm amazed that I don't seem to get cut-off, or have people pull out in front of me. I attribute that to two things. First, doing all I can to make myself visible. Second, by avoiding the situation through things like lane positioning to "protect" my space. That doesn't mean being aggressive. It's more like not making the space seem open to pulling into.
2. Loud pipes. I won't ride with you. Not my loss at all...but yours.
3. Laying it down. I came on an accident in South Dakota. LEO came over to explain what happened. Said the rider laid it down. I replied by saying he did "lay" the bike down at all. If he had the skill to lay it down...he had the skill to avoid the accident altogether.
4. Whose fault? Mine. Always. No excuses. Horns???...nah. The scenario goes like this:
--- I see the potential accident ahead.
--- I hit the horn.
--- I wait for the other driver to hear the horn, and to realize it was me honking.
--- I wait for them to respond, and then wait again to see how they responded.
--- If they don't respond the way I want, then I repeat the horn honking.
--- And if they don't respond and it becomes a problem, I panic and then blame the other guy.

Meanwhile, I could've just taken evasive action in the beginning and saved a lot of grief.
 
Here's what my reply was:

Good words. Some thoughts...
1. Nobody comes out of nowhere. I'm amazed that I don't seem to get cut-off, or have people pull out in front of me. I attribute that to two things. First, doing all I can to make myself visible. Second, by avoiding the situation through things like lane positioning to "protect" my space. That doesn't mean being aggressive. It's more like not making the space seem open to pulling into.
2. Loud pipes. I won't ride with you. Not my loss at all...but yours.
3. Laying it down. I came on an accident in South Dakota. LEO came over to explain what happened. Said the rider laid it down. I replied by saying he did "lay" the bike down at all. If he had the skill to lay it down...he had the skill to avoid the accident altogether.
4. Whose fault? Mine. Always. No excuses. Horns???...nah. The scenario goes like this:
--- I see the potential accident ahead.
--- I hit the horn.
--- I wait for the other driver to hear the horn, and to realize it was me honking.
--- I wait for them to respond, and then wait again to see how they responded.
--- If they don't respond the way I want, then I repeat the horn honking.
--- And if they don't respond and it becomes a problem, I panic and then blame the other guy.

Meanwhile, I could've just taken evasive action in the beginning and saved a lot of grief.
RIGHT ON!!! Im right there with you. I also give some of my conspicuousity to the fact I'm riding a bright orange bike, that has headlight modulator running, AND annoying auxiliary lights, i.where a.red helmet with either a silver or red textile jacket and have been told my bikes rear end has enough lights to rival the starship Enterprise.

The term aggressively defensive is part of my mentality..
 
#1 is the reason I felt so compelled to write what happened in my fairly bad incident.

My fault for not assessing that situation well enough. Sure, she was to blame for running the red light, but I could have, should have, but didn't anticipate something where I could not see clearly.

Agree w the rest. Watch out for oneself 1st. Usually reduces many, many potential situations. Then, head on a swivel. Overall, we're not alone on the road. So watch it all and participate in your ride by being aware. As in the recent AMA mag, two of the top 10 biggest threats are Autonomous Vehicles and Distracted Driving. Being prepared for it is key. And we have to be amongst those threats, Every Single Ride.

1778004208416.png

Mike
 
Last fall, I quit riding the bike as much as normal. Normal riding for me is year around as long as there's not ice or snow on the road. 35F and rain is just fine for riding. The reason for not riding, was we were packing and moving. The new house was in the same area, so the Subaru got used a lot to haul stuff to the new place at every opportunity.

Long way to say that this spring I noticed my skills are not what they were before. Driving a car is not the same as riding a motorcycle. We all know it...but I'm not sure we really know it. I'm finding I need to use a lot more focus and attention to details that driving my car didn't require. It's not a huge deal, but something I noticed and addressed.


When I read @bugnut's post above, I thought back to all the years as a teenager when I would step out onto a crosswalk, totally oblivious to what would happen if the car driver didn't see me. (I think my guardian angle was working hard, even back then!) Sure, I was in the right. Legally, the car driver is supposed to stop when someone is in the crosswalk. But...that's not much consolation when you're in the hospital after they hit you at 35...or in the morgue.

Chris
 
#1 is the reason I felt so compelled to write what happened in my fairly bad incident.

My fault for not assessing that situation well enough. Sure, she was to blame for running the red light, but I could have, should have, but didn't anticipate something where I could not see clearly.

Agree w the rest. Watch out for oneself 1st. Usually reduces many, many potential situations. Then, head on a swivel. Overall, we're not alone on the road. So watch it all and participate in your ride by being aware. As in the recent AMA mag, two of the top 10 biggest threats are Autonomous Vehicles and Distracted Driving. Being prepared for it is key. And we have to be amongst those threats, Every Single Ride.

View attachment 43636

Mike

I didn’t see the actual collision but I was there about a minute later. That other driver was screened out of your view in the curb lane by a truck in the left travel lane. Might you have seen it? Maybe. Maybe not. I was almost creamed by an oncoming car turning left in front of me in the exact opposite way a few months ago. She was turning left and I was easing up the curb lane beside a truck in the left lane going in the same direction as me. Fortunately I was able to stop and yield to the left turning car before she hit me. Scared the crap out of me and I was lucky.

The guy riding behind me said “you sure stopped quick.” We always need to be ready to avoid, stop, or yield. Take it one moment at a time.
 
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