I play a sort of game in my head while riding...keeps my mind occupied and my senses alert.
That the guy talking on his cell phone in the Jag I'm about to pass, that truck on the horizon, that bitch about to pull out of a side street in her minivan, the kid parked on the shoulder in his pizza delivery car and even that oncoming motorcyclist who seems to be doing nothing out of the ordinary... I imagine they are on a mission to kill me.
I use up as much real estate as is physically possible to keep them WAY OUT OF
MY SPACE as our paths cross; extreme edges of the road, gravel shoulders, anywhere that makes it pretty much impossible for them to hit me, even if they were deliberately trying to.
99.999% of the time, it's just a game, and my evasive maneuvers would undoubtedly be perceived as an overreaction by an unbiased onlooker...BUT ... .001% of the time, when they actually do try to kill me, my preventative action pays off in spades. That's why I'm still alive.
WHO is thy enemy?? you ask...Beware of strangers wearing helmets...
My buds nephew had a bad crash last week on his sportbike.
He over-braked and flipped his bike (stoppie gone wild) when
another motorcyclist turned left across his path. The two bikes never actually collided.
He's sort of recovering now, but will probably live the rest of his life with no right nipple. coulda been worse.