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How to Steer a Motorcycle (?!)
How to Steer a Motorcycle (?!)
It's funny, the first bicycle was invented in the 1800's or
before, and with it, the first person to be able to operate
it. Yet it is far from obvious why you can ride, balance or
control a bicycle. To prove this to yourself, you only have
to listen to people try to explain it. There are at least
three theories, and each is typically presented as the way
it works. Discussions get heated, minds get closed.
Physicists have made pretty good attempts, but anything approaching
a complete explanation is so math-heavy that we cannot use it to
inform our riding.
Even the physicists find it too difficult to be worth it to
model the entire chassis/motor/suspension/aerodynamic/rider matrix
which is the real-world operation of a motorcycle. They
typically break it down into individual systems, with simpler
models, knowing full well that the dynamic state of each system
affects the others in certain ways, and ignoring that fact so they
can get their job done in a reasonable amount of time.
We have argued with each other back and forth, and the lay
public has not yet been graced with a clear, obviously correct
explanation that everyone can agree on.
I'm here to take my shot.
There are three basic theories:
-You lean in the direction you want to go, and the bike
follows.
-You turn the handlebars and the gyroscopic action of the front
wheel leans the bike over.
-You steer the bars the opposite way from your intended
direction of travel for a moment, to get the bike leaned, then you
steer the right way, to go around the corner. This is called,
"countersteering."
In this article I will:
-Acknowledge the role and use of each technique, the role of
each explanation as you ride, and the reason why it won't do to
think about it just one way.
-Do away with the fixation on countersteering as a concept, not
because it is wrong, but because it confuses people
-Offer a new way of thinking about it, which involves the
physics behind all three theories in one tidy package.
The simple explanation of, "Lean and the bike will follow," and
other explanations involving shifting one's weight to control the
bike, are often promoted by skilled, competitive riders, especially
those from long ago. Bicyclists also find that explanation
credible. It's hard to say to a guy who can beat you in a
race that he doesn't have a correct understanding of how to control
his vehicle, so I won't. The fact is, at some level they know
very well how to operate their vehicle. Problem is, the doing
of the riding is managed by the Cerebellum and brain stem, parts of
the brain that we have in common with reptiles, and which have
nothing to do with language or theory. The understanding in
the lower parts of the brain is not immediately accessible to the
parts of the brain that can explain things. So the knowledge
they have, in its usable form, is private and non-transferrable,
and there are few who can fit such understanding into language that
we can read and understand correctly.
This is how I think it is best to look at steering. By the
way, here I am making an assumption, that the vehicle is not
sliding. If the vehicle were sliding, the situation would
become much more complicated. More on that later.
When you steer any vehicle with wheels, it is most precise to
say that you steer the places where the rubber meets the road, the
contact patches. Since no vehicle is without height, the
contact patches are always below the center of gravity of the
vehicle, so the top of the vehicle tends to go straight, even
though you steered the contact patches to the side. Thus the
vehicle tends to lean out of the turn. What happens next depends on
how the vehicle is constructed.
When you turn a car, you point the wheels in the direction of
intended travel, and, to be precise, the contact patches go in the
direction that the front wheels are pointed. The fact that
the places where the rubber meets the road define a plane rather
than a straight line means that the car is resistant to leaning,
because most of the car, and thus the center of gravity, would have
to lift up for it to lean. The effect is the same as if the
car were motionless, and you pushed it from the side. It
would lean away from you, but unless you were a bison or something,
the wheels would remain planted. Thus it is easy to get away
with saying you are steering the car, rather than the contact
patches, because it follows the contact patches, almost
always.
On a bike, you also steer the contact patches. As with a
car, the top of the bike tends to go straight, while the contact
patches move to the side. But a bike, whose contact patches
are in a line, responds differently. When a bike leans, every
part above the contact patch gets lower to the ground, so the
center of gravity falls. This is just as
self-perpetuating as it is when the bike is standing still.
Push it to the side at rest, and it falls and rotates on its
contact patches, till it hits the ground. A bike has a small
tendency to lean into a turn on its own so it won't fall over,
based on the rake and trail of the front suspension, but it is a
gentle force that cannot be counted on to cancel the lean
exactly. So you can steer the contact patches, but you cannot
really steer the bike, because only the contact patches themselves
answer to the directional control of the bars. The rest
of the bike just tries to go straight, every time.
So how do you make a bike corner? Using the above
explanation as a model, you use a strategy to "fool" the bike into
cornering. You want to turn right. Turning the bars to
the right will make the contact patches go right, but the rest of
the bike will go straight. In a second, you'll fall on your
left side. That won't do. So instead, you steer the
contact patches to the left, but only a little. The contact
patches go left, the rest of the bike goes straight. You
start falling to the right, and the center of gravity is now to the
right of your contact patches, because you are leaning. Your
contact patches need to follow your center of gravity to the right,
to keep your lean under control. So you steer the contact
patches to the right. Voilá, you and the bike and your
contact patches are now turning.
What you are doing is reminiscent of balancing a baseball bat
vertically on your hand. Making the bat lean in one direction
always requires moving its bottom in the opposite direction for
just long enough to initiate a fall in the direction you
want. That is followed by an aggressive move to catch the bat
before it falls too far, by moving the bottom faster than the top
is going, in the direction of the lean.
Likewise, you need to steer the contact patches of a bike out
from under it, so it falls, then arrest the fall by steering the
contact patches to follow the top of the bike around the corner,
then steer them even harder in the direction of travel than the top
of the bike is going, in order to make the bike stand up
again. It is often said that you recover from the lean by
accelerating. Accelerating does widen your corner, thus
making you go straighter. It does this by increasing the
distance over which the sideways force of your lean acts. The
physics adds up to the rule that a certain degree of lean, if you
stay still on the bike, will result in a certain angular velocity
(rate of directional change) at a certain forward speed. If
you increase that speed by accelerating, it will not automatically
change your degree of lean, but it will spread the force of the
lean over a longer distance, thus diluting your ability to change
direction, and you will go straighter. This is a natural and
sensible thing to do when coming out of turns, but it is not
sufficient to stand the bike up completely. It won't get the
job done. You still need to finally steer the contact patch
back under the bike.
Here's what acceleration in a corner does for you. It
shifts weight to the rear, extending the fork, thus increasing rake
and trail, which increases the self-correcting tendency of the
steering. To the degree that you are leaning, this makes the
bike stand up more. But it won't take you all the way,
because that self-correcting force goes to zero as your lean goes
to zero. Also, the faster you go, the more effective are your
inputs to the handlebars, so it takes less and less motion of the
bars to bring the contact patches under the bike the more you
accelerate out of the turn. That reduces the trouble you need
to go to in order to cancel the lean, but once again, you have to
deliver that last nudge, to get the contact patches back under the
center of gravity. Unfortunately, the contact
patch takes more and more handlebar motion to steer, as speed
approaches zero.
It is understandable why they wanted to call it countersteering,
but get that out of your head. You just need to remember that
you are only steering the contact patch, and you have to use that
direct control to indirectly influence the direction of the
bike.
So what about just leaning into the corner?
Strangely enough, just as steering the contact patch has two
different effects depending on if your wheels are in line or in a
plane, so throwing our weight around has two different effects
depending on how long you do it.
Just as you throw your body to the side, the bike leans
(or moves, if you turn the bars at the same time) in the opposite
direction. This is a great way to avoid really nasty road
features suddenly, and is the quickest way to make the path of your
contact patch move to the side, without changing your direction of
travel. Offroad riders learn this one quickly, as a way of
avoiding rocks and ruts without using any traction.
But of course, you have to pay the piper. You just leaned
way off the bike, and although it moved in the opposite direction
momentarily, it is going to follow you now, by leaning toward
you. If you are quick, you can steer the contact patch back
under you, and let your weight counterbalance the bike, till you
and the bike line up again. If you are less quick, you will
have to use the handlebars to steer the contact patch to balance
your lean, and you will turn. If you persist in leaning off
the bike as you turn, the chassis will balance to a less
leaned-over attitude than it would have done if you stayed in your
seat. This effect is used to great advantage on the road,
where a low chassis stance helps maneuverability and stability, and
is practical because the road is smooth. It allows you to
corner much harder than the ground clearance of a bike would
otherwise allow. It also lowers the overall center of gravity
between you and the bike, further enhancing stability.
Leaning off also loosens the connection between rider and bike,
allowing the bike to bounce around a little, and even drift,
without upsetting the bike/rider system. That is why
roadracers do it so much.
So leaning or throwing your body around has its place. You
can push your contact patch quickly and briefly to the side, to
fine-tune your line, on a sub-1-second time scale, and take the
move back without changing direction, if you do it fast. On
the 3+-second time scale, you can initiate a turn. If you
lean your body into a turn, you bias your bike to turn more readily
in the direction of your lean, enhancing control by reducing the
inputs necessary to make the bike lean over. This is
the centerpiece of Lee Parks' Total Control Riding
curriculum. In summary, throwing your weight around is both
the quickest and the slowest way to relocate your bike to the
side. And it works at any speed. Problem is, the quick
moves don't change direction, they just move the bike sideways
briefly. And the slow move is great to optimize the
bike/rider system for a turn, but it doesn't act fast enough for
you to precisely control the initiation of the turn.
And what about gyroscopic forces? They increase with wheel
and engine speed. They are almost nil at walking speed, but
if you have heavy wheels, like the cast aluminum mags on late-'70's
Yamahas, they have a significant effect at 60MPH. Their
overall effect, if you don't turn the handlebars, is to resist
changing the lean of the motorcycle. Keep in mind, though,
that only the front wheel's gyroscopic forces will make the
motorcycle lean, since that is the one that you can turn to the
side. There are also gyroscopic forces present in more
parts of the motorcycle than just the front wheel. I just
went out to my garage and took a motorcycle wheel, spun it on its
axle, held it, and turned it different directions. Here are
the results:
Regarding front wheel motion I have these observations. If
you steer it left, it leans right. If you steer it right, it
leans left. But it only leans farther as long as you steer
farther. If you hold your steering angle, it holds its
lean. If you steer straight again, it goes vertical. So
the gyroscopic force has the same effect on lean as
countersteering, but that force disappears as soon as you stop
moving the handlebars, and reverses as you bring them back to
center. This means that in that initial stage when you get
the bike leaned over, gyroscopic force works for you in the front
wheel, but as soon as you try to steer around the corner, it works
against you, tending to stand the bike up. Obviously, we
overcome that standing up force, because we can stay leaned.
Regarding rear wheel motion, I have these observations. If
you lean it over to the right, as would happen to the rear wheel,
it steers left. If you lean it over to the left, it steers
right. This works against directional change of the chassis
in the turn. This means that the gyroscopic force in the rear
wheel fights us as we try to balance a lean by pushing the chassis
to steer straight, and it fights us as we try to straighten up, by
trying to steer us the opposite way. The rear fights us all
the way, and we overcome the gyroscopic force of the rear wheel
every time we change lean or direction.
Obviously, gyroscopic force has very limited utility in steering
the motorcycle- it is working for another master, not us.
That is where steering the contact patch comes in. It can
get you leaned over faster than anything, unless you are going very
slowly.
So what about sliding? Offroad bikers have noticed that
you can save a front wheel slide by sliding the rear wheel.
And you can learn to maneuver in deep sand, where the idea of
contact patch doesn't really seem appropriate. And that the
fastest, most secure way around a corner is with the rear wheel
walking to the outside of your line, just a little. What's
with that?
First, how can you change direction by sliding?
Basically, in the case of a rear-wheel slide, we are talking
about a form of rear-wheel steering. In rear wheel steering,
the rear wheel initiates motion of the contact patches. You
can get a feel for rear-wheel steering by sitting on a bicycle
backwards and going down a mild hill, and trying not to fall.
If you do this, you will quickly learn that when you use the
rear wheel to change direction, it leans the bike over
automatically. There is no need to countersteer to initiate a
lean. However, you will find that to hold a line, you need to
back way off your initial steering input, once you are changing
direction. Strangely enough, holding the bars behind you, the
resulting handlebar motion is roughly the same as with front wheel
steering. To turn right, you twitch the bars briefly to the
left, then back off and turn them more to the right. The
difference is, with rear steer the bars never cross the centerline
during the turn- you are still steering slightly to the left, till
you want to stand up again. With front steer, the bars cross
the line from left initially, to right during the turn. But
the sequence of motions is the same.
Second, why is it ever better than not sliding?
Many road bikers and car drivers have learned firsthand that
once you are sliding, you have a great deal less traction, and it
is a challenge not to go off the road or fall over. So how
can it ever be helpful?
It can be helpful in cases where there is enough dynamic
friction between the tires and the road surface to be useful to
control the vehicle. What is dynamic friction? It is
the force one thing can exert on a thing it is sliding against, to
resist the slide. This is not to be confused with static
friction or traction, which is the force one thing can exert
against another because they are pressed together, but not
sliding. For most things, static friction is much greater
than dynamic friction, so if you want to maneuver your vehicle, the
best bet is usually, but not always, not to slide.
In motor vehicles, there are two cases where dynamic friction is
greater than or equal to static friction, so sliding with control
is possible.
The first is with tire compounds that are specially designed to
mold themselves quickly to the microscopic details of the road
surface. They are typically very gummy and short-lived.
They include racing tires, and especially qualifying tires.
You can see footage on the web of GP racers like Valentino Rossi,
Casey Stoner and others, taking turns at triple-digit speeds with
both the front and rear tires sliding, and making blue smoke.
This works because those tires mold themselves to the road
constantly, even as they creep outward in the turn.
The second is on loose surfaces with tires that are designed to
penetrate the road surface continually. This is the case of
knobby tires. Loose road surfaces are constantly nudging
tires back and forth as the tires bounce off of rocks and
things. But as the tires slide, they also dig into the
surface, with their knobs. The more they slide, the more they
dig, up to a point. The digging makes it so they are always
braced against the next piece of dirt to resist further
sliding. This generates fairly consistent force in a
slide, so you can still make it around the corner and balance the
bike.
Ok, so sliding with control is possible. When is it
helpful?
It is helpful when you cannot count on sufficient traction from
the front wheel. This happens on loose or unreliable road
surfaces. Steering the contact patch with the front wheel
depends on the front wheel being able to exert a reliable level of
sideways force on the ground. If that force fluctuates
enough, it becomes hazardous to rely exclusively on steering the
contact patch with the front wheel.
I would point out that steering the contact patch with the front
wheel is still the main way to operate a motorcycle, even
offroad. You can see on YouTube various helmet-cam videos of
people riding in the desert or on straight trails. If you
watch the handlebar angle change, it is clear that they are
constantly using the handlebars to keep the contact patches under
them as the front wheel darts this way and that on the uneven
surface. It is also clear, due to the duration of some of
their corrections, that the front wheel is sliding at times.
But at an upright angle, the control is still sufficient, as long
as you loosen up your reflexes enough to allow the intermittent
sliding.
The problem develops if you are trying to turn. Once a
lean angle is introduced, and you are counting on a reliable
sideways force to balance it, the normal way of riding is way too
invested in tight control over the sideways force exerted by the
front wheel.
Enter rear-steer by sliding the rear wheel. As I
discussed, rear-steer initiates lean on its own. However,
unlike on a backwards bicycle, the rear-steer of a motorcycle is
done by sliding the rear wheel. The great gift of rear steer
by sliding is that it depends on loose rather than tight engagement
between the contact patch and the ground. Therefore, it is
not important if your front wheel is sliding or not, to maintain
both lean angle and your chosen line through a turn. Just as
long as your chassis is leaned into the turn, giving it more gas
will tighten your line, and letting off the gas will straighten you
out. If your front wheel is sliding, your line straightens
out, but your lean angle does not, resulting in a fall. If
you respond by sliding the rear wheel more, it tightens your line
back up, keeping the lean angle under control, and you go around
the turn looking like Ricky.
It's kind of like diversifying your investments. On the
road, there is enough general order to things that you can throw
all your eggs in the steer-the-contact-patch-with-front-wheel
basket. You can spice it up a little with a sprinkle of body
English at low speeds and extreme lean angles, for fine tuning at
no expense to traction.
Offroad, the order of things is patchy and unreliable. The
on-road method is still the easiest to use, so you use it when you
can. But you have to put some eggs in the
rear-steer-by-sliding basket. That way you have the way of
steering that works upright and when you are not sliding, and also
the way of steering that works when you are cornering and sliding,
since you can't avoid it sometimes. And an even healthier
dollop of body English will be needed to help you through or around
ruts and rocks and over logs, and to help slide the bike right, and
to keep you up in the super-slow sections.
The fact is, offroad riders do all these things at once.
For the ultimate example, watch dirt-trackers. This is the
most orderly possible loose-traction environment. They are
walking the rear wheel whenever they are turning, which is most of
the time. But you will see that they are still operating the
handlebars, constantly nudging the front wheel this way and that,
in the front-steer mode.
Traction environments and cornering strategies
Speaking of order, the dirt-track situation illuminates another
factor of steering a motorcycle. On an orderly surface, it is
a good strategy to spread the turn over the longest distance, to
maintain speed through the corner and minimize peak traction
requirements. This is what they tell you to do on the road
with cornering lines. It is also true in dirt-track, and
occasionally in desert or deep sand, where the traction situation
is consistent through the turn. But in less orderly
environments, like woods, trails, and motocross, spreading your
turn over the longest distance increases your risk that your
traction will change as you go through the turn, requiring very
quick thinking from you, to get out the other end
wheels-down. So you will see the best offroad riders
surveying their options for cornering environments, and picking
just one.
These are the basic options that might present themselves. I
discuss them assuming inconsistent traction:
The flat surface. Here, the best riders slow down to a
speed where they can slide the rear wheel and navigate the corner
in the flat space available to them. They tend to select a
small site for their corner, sliding the rear wheel with the brakes
on the way in to slow and initiate rear steer, then power-sliding
the rear wheel to exit. Gary Semics, in his instructional
materials, calls this, "Squaring the corner," because there is a
point where you slide the rear wheel to make the bike almost stop
as it rotates about 90 degrees, as the main part of a turn.
By selecting a small site to execute the turn they minimize the
chances of the traction situation changing during their turn, thus
can execute more simply and smoothly.
The rut. Here, the best riders have to carefully
calibrate their entry speed and direction, because mid-corner
correction is impossible. However, insane lean angles and
cornering speeds are possible. Ricky Carmichael and James
Stewart are masters of this.
The berm. This is like a flat surface, but with the
advantage of the surface itself leaning into the turn. It is
handled sort of like a real flat surface, but faster. The
disadvantage is that it is typically the longest line through the
corner.
The sand. This is a flat surface, but very loose, where
rear-steer is paramount. Its disadvantage is that it is
slower than most turning environments. You don't choose it
unless the rest of the track is really chaotic.
The mud. This is like sand, but with horrible levels of
resistance to forward motion. People don't typically choose
this, if they can help it. Mud in a race tends to equalize
things- The best racers don't handle it much better than the more
casual ones.
Switching traction environments in mid-corner is very difficult
and risky, because, as I have discussed, the rules change. So
you will see people adjust their speed and line to stay in a single
traction environment through the turn. This tends to make
offroad riding more of a point-and-shoot affair, because sometimes
a traction environment is very small. You will see this the
most in MX racing, where there are many tight, technical turns,
which typically have at least a rut or two, a berm, and a flat
surface. You will see the likes of Ricky and Bubba doing
normal front steer coming into a corner, as they aim for the
cornering environment they like best. But the moment when
they are changing direction the most is usually very brief, as they
arrive at their chosen cornering environment, and change direction
within that environment, then shoot out of it in a more-or-less
straight line.
So there you have it. My attempt to explain the
unexplainable. Hope you like it.