FILTERING on a motorcycle is one of the very many perks of taking two wheels over four. It saves time, eases congestion, and means while everyone else is standing still you’re still making progress and getting on your way.
Filtering is not without its perils though. Some of these risks can be brought on by the rider’s own behaviour. To help you out with that take a look at our guide to filtering safely. The other perils of taking to the magical motorcycle lane, are the drivers you are sharing it with!
Here’s who they are and how to spot them, and what to do to get around them!
Drivers to watch out for when filtering!
The Pastor Maldonado – Danger rating – 10/10
This car is probably the easiest to spot in traffic. It’ll be a battered old saloon with at least one of the quarter panels being taken from a totally different car. Every other body panel will have a scrape, ding, hole or a dent on it.
At least one of the rear light clusters will be cracked, crudely gaffer taped up and at least two-thirds full of rainwater.
Three of the four tyres will be bald, and the fourth will be a space-saver spare that was fitted to the car in 2014 and never removed.
The rear parcel shelf hasn’t been seen since the late 1990s and the boot contents include a blood-stained carpet, half a roadside warning triangle, a road map of East Anglia, and an empty bottle of Morrisons own-brand engine oil.
Oh, and the original fourth wheel and tyre that the space saver is standing in for.
What to do?
Get off your bike, wait for the danger to pass and if it doesn’t, consider retiring from the two-wheeled world.
The ‘Powered by fairy dust’ muppet – Danger rating – 7/10
This car is extremely easy to spot, as its arse-end will be plastered with lurid pink stickers exclaiming they have a ‘little dude onboard’, or ‘I’m only speeding because I need a poo’.
The fact of the matter is that sticker wasn’t funny when it was released. It’s certainly no funnier 15-years down the line. All you’re doing is advertising to the rest of the world how much you enjoy watching Mrs Brown’s Boys and Hollyoaks.
The driver of this car will likely be more interested in their social media updates than what’s going on around them, and because the dashboard of their car will be caked in those vile little trolls with goggle eyes, they’ll barely be able to see out of the windscreen, let alone glance in their mirrors.
What to do?
Give a very wide berth.
The rental Luton van driver – Danger rating – 8/10
I don’t know what it is about Luton vans that give me the heebie-jeebies, but they just do. Maybe its that the box section of the van overhanging the chassis so much that you can’t see the mirrors. It could be the primaeval fear that at any point the tail lift will drop down and end my days, Final Destination stylee.
But it’s probably just because there is a strong possibility that the absolute helmet that’s driving it has only just rented the thing, having never driven anything that big, heavy or prone to catching a crosswind ever before.
What to do?
Change lanes and get around it!
The London-based Deliveroo rider – Danger rating – 3/10
These are the guys and girls that rag around London on PCX125s that are more gaffer tape and good hope than physical machines. There must be an MOT tester in the big smoke who only does tickets on this type of bike, and I bet they are making a killing!
They filter through traffic like smoke, ghost up beside you at the lights and then leave you hanging in a cloud of two-stroke haze as they launch from traffic lights a good second and a half before the amber light has even illuminated. I’m guessing it’s some Jedi magic they get taught in Delivery Rider Training School - Filtering 101.
The danger level is low with this one, in fact, I think they are only on the list because they make navigating the capital look so chuffing easy!
Jealousy is a terrible thing!
What to do?
Just hang on to their back wheel as best can mate.
The mobile cannabis emporium – Danger rating – 5/10
You can smell it before you can see it. That fragrant scent will take you back to Glastonbury 1999 when Grooverider headlined in the dance tent.
The chances are the driver's seat will be so far reclined, the driver's head will be where the rear-seat passenger's lap should be. And the interior of the car will be bathed in a thick coating of Mary Jane’s perfume.
You’ll pull up alongside and be greeted by two of the most bloodshot eyes this side of a bare-knuckle boxing match, followed by that well-known phrase: “Wanna buy some weed blud??”
What to do?
Don’t hang around in the slipstream too long, and if you do get the munchies, you’re statistically only a mile from a KFC or McDonalds.
