Last weekend Lady Luck and I were running errands in the Mustang. Since it was a nice day, we had the top down. If you've got to be in a cage, after all, a convertible isn't a bad way to go.
At the top of an off-ramp, some less-intelligent silly person tried to make a left turn from the far right turn lane. As those of us who understand rudimentary physics know, two objects can not occupy the same space at the same time.
I think brakes were invented because of people who don't understand that concept.
Our silly friend was fortunate, and the driver whose space was rudely invaded managed to stop in time to avoid being part of a fascinating scientific demonstration. Behind us was a semi. The trucker felt it was necessary to blast his horn.
If you've never been directly in front of a truck when it's horn blows, well, you don't know what loud is. My involuntary reaction was to put my hands behind my head and curl up in the passenger seat.
As we drove on, I slowly uncurled and took my hands away from my head.
Lady Luck commented that it's funny that I'm terrified of traffic in cars and feel perfectly safe on my bike, when most other people feel the other way around.
What can I say? Most other people are freakin' nuts.
Motorcycles have a "dangerous" reputation, but most of the people who get killed on them are drunk and/or untrained riders. In other words, dumbasses. There are always the unfortunate few, but there are always the unfortunate few who get killed in cages, as well.
On my bike, the only blind spots I have are those built into my head. I take up less space than a car, and as such need less space to dodge dangerous obstacles like remedial physics students in cages. Furthermore, I know how to look for, identify and evaluate dangerous situations. As my MSF instructor said, not all crashes are avoidable, but they are all preventable. I'm not terrified in traffic because I identified the danger and took action a quarter mile beforehand.
In a car, on the other hand, I've got blind spots, a huge footprint and sluggish handling to contend with. Plus, there are a variety of distractions available to me in a car. There's the radio to fiddle with, climate control settings to adjust, coffee-like beverages to drink, rapidly prepared hamburgers to eat, cell-phones to answer, and the list goes on. Who's really in control of where that thing is headed?
So, cagers, I ask you - Aren't you afraid to drive that thing in traffic?