While I sit here, wishing that I’d been out on two wheels this evening, instead of at the local Girl Guides meeting, I’ve been motorcycling vicariously.
There’s a lot of that going on in this house, right now.
For example, I’m currently reading Jeremy Kroeker’s ‘Motorcycle Therapy’ (which I am enjoying far more than his somewhat self-indulgent religio-fest, ‘Through Dust and Darkness’).
I don’t just miss the motorbiking experience.
I miss filtering.
Oh God, I love filtering.
Even though some non-biking motorists don’t get that they are committing an offence if they block or impede the progress of a motorcyclist.
I’ve done my Enhanced Training.
That doesn’t make me a ‘better’ rider.
It just makes me more aware (which, I suppose, you might argue does make me a better-equipped rider, but that’s not necessarily a ‘better’ rider).
I’ve ridden with the rozzers (and been trained by serving and retired rozzers), and I’ve seen how they legitimately, and routinely, use the road in ways that ‘ordinary’ motorcyclists wouldn’t.
All of those training courses were great (and great fun).
And yes, as a result of a number of those courses I filter with confidence, even though I am being more observant than a number of my two-wheeled colleagues (and probably 100% more observant than a significant number of four-, eight-, and sixteen-wheeled road users).
I bloody love filtering.
Filtering is a great method of making progress, and the whole rationale behind the need to ‘make progress’ is adequately and often explained by the rozzers themselves through the Police System of Motorcycle Control (Roadcraft).
And by RoSPA.
And by the IAM.
And by the Highway Code.
The thinking behind filtering is that it is safer for motorcyclists to be moving forward than to be static targets.
It’s also exhilarating.
And it gives me a real buzz.
But even more than that.
Filtering keeps me safe.