What I Wish I Knew As A Motorcyclist Before I Put A Crash Helmet On

Straight‑talking, heartfelt advice for every new and returning motorcyclist. Because confidence is a muscle, not a miracle

I can still remember the exact second the visor clicked shut on my very first motorcycle helmet.

Silence. Deathly silence.

It sounded like a door slamming shut on a mediocre life I’d been living up until that point. Now, there was a bright, golden gate swinging wide on the life I’d been too scared to imagine I could be capable of having. What I didn’t realise was how much that gate was going to let into my life.

That very first day, my knees shook so hard I worried the bike might fall over. But when I bunny hopped the clutch and rolled into some sort of forward motion, something lit up inside. Every mile since has rewritten the story I tell myself about fear, freedom, and what I “ought” to do.

If you’re hovering over the “Buy Now” button on your first set of leathers — or if you’ve booked the overwhelming CBT and can’t unclench your stomach muscles— the following is the very letter I wish someone had slid under my door. It’s for dreamers; anyone who’s ever thought Could I really do that?

What you will read below is a straight‑talk; the soul‑deep truth I needed before I straddled my first bike.

May this land in your feed exactly when you need it.

1. Confidence Is a Muscle, Not a Miracle

Every glossy, fast paced Instagram reel skips the shaky starts — have you noticed that? The stalled engines, the car park tantrums. Confidence isn’t something “natural‑born riders” are handed at birth, oh no; it’s a muscle you train and it takes time. Your first wobbly U‑turn is a warm‑up set. Your first rain ride is a full blown leg day.

So flex it. Practice slow‑speed drills in an empty car park. Take the extra training day even if your ego howls into the wind. Celebrate the inches, not the miles — because inch by inch, your brain rewires itself hard.

Pro tip: Keep a “tiny victories” journal. Write down every smooth gear change and graceful stop. On the days your inner critic revs up, flip back through the pages and remember how far you’ve already ridden — even if it’s only a few baby steps.

2. Gear Is Your Second Skin

Forget fashion first, who cares what you look like? I can never say this enough — the right kit is the difference between brushing off a irritating spill and ending a dream before it even begins. So, think again and seriously invest in:

• A helmet that hugs you, not hurts your head. It should feel like a firm handshake — snug all around without pressure points and it should move with your head when you shake it.

• Armour yourself in the elbows, shoulders, back, hips, knees. Yes, all of them and don’t miss any of them out. The future‑you will thank the present‑you.

• Gloves you can wiggle your fingers in. If you can’t feel the indicators, the brake and the clutch, you can’t control your survival.

• Boots that cover the ankle and armours your bones. Trust me, gravel, tarmac and concrete finds ankles and once they shatter, that’s your riding life over.

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Budget tight? Buy used bike, but always, ALWAYS buy a new helmet — its non‑negotiable. Everything else can graduate up as your skill (and bank balance) grows.

3. The Surprisingly Loud Quiet

The first time I hit an open stretch of 70 mph tarmac, the noise inside my lid was biblical — wind and engine all coming at me like a violent storm. Yet beneath the deafening decibels there was some sort of hush I’d never heard before, It was the calm silence of being in the moment.

On a motorcycle, your senses level up so high there’s no bandwidth left for yesterday’s sorrowful guilt or tomorrow’s work agenda. The road and all its surroundings give you the gift of right now. Riders talk about “throttle therapy” because it’s damn sight cheaper than a quack and twice as honest. Lean into it. Let the miles rinse your mind free of stress and anxiety.

4. The Road Rewrites Your World Map

You will find that you’ll start measuring distance not by miles but by songs on your playlist. There is no A to B in motorbiking — it’s not the destination, because you’ll take turns, corners and ‘short cut’s that will make a 10 mile journey to a café into a 2 hour long scenic tour. You’ll get to understand intimately the texture of morning light on back roads most other road users never see. You’ll become the person who spots storm clouds and feel the temperature change before any good BBC weatherman.

And off the bike? You’ll park closer to an exit, sit facing a door, calculate room to lean before a corner takes shape — because your head is now hard wired to seek out safe spaces and escape routes. You’ll crave the scent of unleaded or two stroke the way other road users crave a good coffee. You’ll realise that the traffic around you are chess pieces on a board forcing you to think three moves ahead.

5. Fear and Freedom Ride Pillion — Invite Them Both Into Your Life

If you wait until you’re “not scared,” you’ll never turn the key. Fear is data — it’s information your brain and body needs. It reminds you to leather up, scan ahead, keep learning. Freedom is the very counterweight that balances fear. When the it whispers in your ear This is dangerous, freedom replies, Yep, so what? It’s worth everything.

You see, the goal isn’t to actually kill fear; it’s to ride with it in complete harmony. Adjust your mirrors, relax and let both feelings share your saddle. They’ll teach you when to roll on — and when to roll off.

6. Community Is Your Octane Boost

Motorcycling can feel solitary and it is if you think about it. You’re inside your helmet but then a fellow biker at a petrol station nods at you and sticks a gloved thumb up in the air at your bike. Suddenly, you’re not alone. What you have just received is a secret handshake of pride.

Remember this: That patch‑wearing veteran at the café you see once stalled at the lights too. I’m not joking. We’re all linked by the same invisible thread of first‑day missed gears and wind‑blown gratitude.

7. Let the Ride Change You

I started riding to outrun a post mid‑life crisis and a gnawing imposter syndrome that has lived with me since my teens. What happened is that I ended up outrunning nothing — because my bike turned me around to face it all head on. On two wheels I learned to trust myself, calibrate my fear, and rewrite a tired old story that said adventure had an expiration date.

So, whatever brings you to the saddle — heartbreak, loss, curiosity, or just a bucket‑list dare from a mate — honour it. Then let your increasing miles sand down what no longer serves you and polish up what was waiting to shine in the first place. You’ll step off taller, wilder, and truer.

Ready to Click Your Visor Down?

Maybe your hands are sweating over your phone right now. Maybe you’re older than “they” say a beginner or a returner should be, or shorter, or louder, or quieter. But you see, none of that truly matters as much as the spark flickering in your knees. Feed it. Go for it.

Book the training.

Buy the helmet.

Write the first line of your next life chapter.

So, when the engine catches and the world tilts into motion, know this: somewhere out there I’ll be riding too.

And when you get back, tell me everything.

Drop your own ride story in the comments and let’s build the most welcoming corner of motorcycling on Medium — one biker at a time.

A Note from the Saddle: Full Throttle, Full Heart — the ultimate guidebook for men and women everywhere learning to ride — is now available on Amazon for download.

Download the Book now on Amazon https://amzn.eu/d/1m51MBQ

It’s filled with encouragement, wisdom, and stories to inspire your own two-wheeled journey. And because motorcycling is about more than just the road — it’s about connection, courage and community — £1 from every copy sold will go directly to the mental health and wellbeing charity, Make Your MARK, supporting bikers through acts of kindness, wellbeing hubs, and life-saving initiatives like Dave’s Defib.

Ride with purpose.

Ride with heart.

https://makeyourmark.charity