There is an old proverb that states, "What you don't know can't hurt you." I disagree. In this Information Age, not knowing is unforgivable. When no one knew there was anything to know about riding, perhaps errors could have been forgiven. But things have changed; now what you don't know can hurt you.
What changed is riding techniques and technology are now openly discussed in books, magazines and website forums. Riders know about this: They know to rely mainly on the front brake and not the rear. They know an accident can be avoided by counter-steering. There's more evidence on how hard we can brake; how far we can lean the bike; how much traction the tires can offer. Much more is known about rider ergonomics and body positioning. A wealth of knowledge exists about visual skills. So much is now known about riding that ignoring it could prove fatal.
But it isn't just investing in slick technique that solves riders' uncertainties. Problems begin when we sense we are at or near our own or the bike's limits. The moment we shy away, we lose control. That is the instant when every rider error that has ever been made has started.
This seems like a no-brainer. Design a training program that allows riders to approach their limits and still maintain some control while gaining raw-edge experience with those limits and you'd have the problem licked, right? In light of that, the oft-repeated good advice "ride within your limits" actually becomes bad if taken literally. Reducing riders' desires to experiment--to find their own and the bike's limits--is committing them to riding on a ragged knife's edge of uncertainty.
What should you do to find those limits? Ride harder and more aggressively until you crash? Retreat from them? Ignore them? Obviously not: What is needed at this moment in time is a statistical analysis of what riders are doing to remain accident-free. Has the track-day phenomena produced safer riders? I bet it has because it is easier to approach limits on the racetrack and beat the limits-demons. Recall that the famous Hurt Report showed racers were significantly under-represented in accident statistics.
Riders tend to fear--and subsequently focus on--the apparent limits of their bikes. These limits are looked upon as the barriers with which they must deal. Take another look: These are the resources a rider must use to correctly and safely negotiate a corner, miss a pothole or avoid a car.
Once these limits are understood and practiced, no longer are they liabilities; no longer are they limits. They become assets--the resources of riding. Yes we are on a budget, and you can overspend. There is no lean angle or traction credit card; what you spend on each is what you spend. If you are spending traction on cornering, adding the thrill of acceleration to the purchase can buy you trouble. If you are braking while turning into a corner, you can blow your budget. If you target-fixate on something, you cannot purchase an escape route. It's all simple economics.
In a recession, confidence in the system goes down, stock markets crash and people are careful with their money. When panic looms in riding, riders do what investors do: They pull back, try to slow or stop the losses, chop the gas or grab a handful of brakes. Fear of crashing brings those on.
In the economy of riding, the only bail-out is realizing your limits. Track riding and training is like having good investment management or a second job. You'll have resources to spend once the bills come due.