Just saw this on Facebook. It was worth passing along as a refresher since spring has sprung.
Drü ShearsMotorcyclist Map
Drü Shears ·ooerdtsnpS9gf015fc5625mt7c812c09h8l3512ghfg5fa71u3t6af6u668u ·
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.
Drü ShearsMotorcyclist Map
Drü Shears ·ooerdtsnpS9gf015fc5625mt7c812c09h8l3512ghfg5fa71u3t6af6u668u ·
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.