Situation

I recently picked up a 2026 BMW S 1000 R, the detuned, more upright sibling of the S 1000 RR. Given my affection for unfaired, higher-handlebar bikes and familiarity with the platform, I was excited to learn if the single-R model could earn a place among my favorites.

I shook down the S 1000 R during a few “Riders Club” days at New Jersey Motorsports Park, hopping on it for a few sessions whenever I could. At the end of the last day, I finally had time for a proper time attack.

Despite the fact that I was still getting familiar with the bike, I met my goal of a sub-1:30 lap: 1:29.63, slightly less than 10 seconds off the overall motorcycle track record. Promising, but I felt more was available. I needed to figure out where the next improvement would come from.

I downloaded the data collected by my AIM Solo DL and started going through it at home in preparation for riding again the following week. Let’s pause here, because this is where “I think I can go even quicker” needs to become more focused and specific.

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Hang on, that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t use AI. It means you need to understand what information you provide, what references you use, and what you’re asking it to evaluate.

In fact, I use AI myself, specifically to help uncover patterns and explore specific “what ifs.” But the information you provide must support the conclusions you’re asking it to draw.

Uploading a lap and asking, “How do I go faster?” leaves a lot undefined.

Faster compared to whom? In what vehicle? Under what conditions? Will that uncover the fundamentals of your techniques that need attention?

Or, is it just another voice telling you to “go faster.”

Before asking AI what to change, give it the context to evaluate what’s happening. Broad questions tend to produce broad answers. Specific, deliberate questions—with the right information and references—give you a better foundation for useful analysis.

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That plan is built around two types of references:

1. Visual references define your location.

2. Feel references communicate what’s happening.

Used independently, both provide valuable information. But when connected, they create something far more powerful: a repeatable process for knowing where to act, what the action should feel like, and whether it produced the intended result.

That connection is how professional drivers and riders produce incredibly consistent laps, even as track conditions, grip, traffic, and other variables change in real time. That same process also allows them to get up to speed quickly.

They aren’t simply memorizing where to brake, turn in, or accelerate. They are building a continuous bridge between what they see, what they do, and what they feel. Let’s break down each one.

Visual references

Visual references are identifiable points around the track that help organize your actions. They might include a brake marker, a turn-in point, a brake-release point, an apex, or an exit reference.

They answer questions, such as:

• Where do I brake?

• Where do I turn in?

• Where is the slow point?

• Where should I accelerate?

• Where should I finish the corner?

Visual references create structure. Instead of braking somewhere near the end of the straightaway or turning when a corner “looks right,” you connect each action to a specific location on the track.

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Professional racers are faster because they know more, right? In reality, many factors make up speed on track. I’ve always looked at racing success through the lens of becoming a complete athlete, with technique, physical fitness, and mental preparation being the three major tenets. All are important, and all constantly feed and loop into one another.

When it comes to technique, working with a professional driver or rider isn’t all that different from working with a rank novice. Speed and nuance are the only real differences. Fundamentals are still the focus, regardless of the on-track experience or race wins. Only the degree of application changes.

Proper fundamentals should scale, from novice to professional, regardless of skill level or speed. It’s why a professional can jump into or onto your vehicle and almost immediately produce a cleaner, quicker lap time. They aren’t using some secret set of techniques reserved for professionals. They’re simply better at executing the fundamentals.

Recently, I was asked to take a look at MotoAmerica Twins Cup competitor Sonya Lloyd. Sonya, 24, is a former amateur flat-tracker and came to road racing through the Royal Enfield Build. Train. Race. program, where she finished second overall. She has also contested the FIM Women’s Circuit Racing World Championship.

Sonya had listened to my podcasts and read my Substack column, but she’d never received any formal in-person training. Everything she knew about my approach to motorcycle riding came from what I had published. For the most part, then, she was winging it. And while she is qualifying for professional grids, she hasn’t reached her goals.

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The data collected through those debriefs became the foundation for my fundamentals, “The Order of the Sport.” At some point during nearly every debrief, “turn-in point” and “turn-in rate” came up. As the students increased their pace, their turn-in point often became late.

They were using the same turn-in reference, but they were going faster, so they were arriving sooner. Suddenly, they were out of time, so they sped up their turn-in rate to compensate. The result? They were still holding steering angle or lean angle after the apex and ran wide.

Let’s define turn-in point and turn-in rate:

• Turn-in point is where you initiate the direction change

• Turn-in rate is how quickly you add steering angle or lean angle

Turn-in point and turn-in rate are two separate fundamentals, but they work together. Where you begin turning and how quickly you add steering angle or lean angle determines where the vehicle reaches its slow point, apex, and ultimately, exits the corner.

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How could two motorcycles with similar chassis design and engine architecture produce such close lap times yet feel completely different? Which one did I like more? Would my personal S 1000 RR (and current open-class favorite) be put out to pasture? Let’s get into it.

This summer, I held two schools at Rocky Mountain Motorsports in Calgary, Alberta. RMM is a diabolical track: tight, technical, and pool-table smooth, with high grip, blind corners, and late apexes. It’s the perfect place to put these two bikes through their paces.

Before we go too far, I want to clarify a few points. This wasn’t a controlled editorial-style shootout. That would have required me to ride both bikes on the same day, on the same tires, and with the same hot-lap opportunities.

I rode these bikes a couple of months apart, but on the same track and in nearly identical conditions. Both were also ridden during school sessions, so clear laps were few and far between. In fact, I never had a single completely clear lap on the YZF-R1M.

Motorcycles

Both bikes were demo models and mechanically 100% stock, the only addendum being the tires on the YZF-R1M. The R1M has almost no engine restrictions, while the BMW is nearly unrideable in its stock North America restricted tune, especially at the pace I was riding.

On the other hand, the Yamaha’s tires didn’t offer the grip of the rubber mounted on the BMW. A perfect, no caveats comparison? No, but the differences evened out and, if nothing else, the setups were close enough to make the results interesting.

2026 BMW S 1000 RR with M Package

• Pirelli Diablo Supercorsa TD/SC3

• OEM-restricted ECU

• Optimized engine electronics settings

• As-delivered suspension settings

2026 Yamaha YZF-R1M

• Bridgestone Battlax Hypersport S23

• Optimized engine and suspension electronics settings

In my hands around RMM’s standard-orientation, 16-turn, 3.5-kilometer circuit, the S 1000 RR and the YZF-M1 couldn’t have felt more different. Yet their lap times were incredibly close. That gap between feel and result is where the real comparison begins.

Ergonomics

The BMW has a much shorter seat-to-bar distance. It also has higher clip-ons. Both bikes have high footpegs, and the BMW’s pegs were surprisingly slippery. On the Yamaha, I found it difficult to get enough weight off my hands.

Neither motorcycle was designed for sport-touring, but the BMW fit me better. More importantly, at least for riding at pace, the angle and height of the bars made it easier for me to support myself properly and stay free on the controls.

Winner: BMW. It just felt right.

Engine

This is a tale of two completely different powerbands. The R1M is incredibly linear and smooth, almost lazy-feeling. The S 1000 RR is the opposite, pulling hard with great low-end torque and coming alive with a ripping ShiftCam top end. It feels fast.

The R1M’s crossplane engine can fool you into thinking it’s slow. It isn’t. The drive-throttle connection between your right hand and the rear tire is immediate and intoxicating. You have a clear sense of what you’re asking the rear tire to do, at any throttle opening.

Whereas the BMW has fantastic initial throttle response, the Yamaha is more abrupt. The S 1000 RR feels explosive, yet it lacks a direct throttle-to-rear-tire connection. The R1M, meanwhile, delivers an incredible connection to the tire.

Winner: Yamaha, for its confidence-inspiring power delivery and rear-tire connection.

Engine electronics

The Yamaha’s dash is complicated to navigate. The BMW’s dash is much simpler and easier to read at speed. Even using known settings with lower-grip tires, I rarely felt the R1M electronics working, with the exception of wheelie control.

The BMW electronics gave me more feedback, but the bike was still moving forward. Curiously, wheelie control comes in later, but when it does arrive, it is more intrusive. The Yamaha’s intervention is softer and less disruptive. Engine braking felt similar.

I wish I had access to the full data available from the BMW and Yamaha ECUs to better understand in greater detail the differences between the two bikes.

Winner: BMW, but this one was close. The S 1000 RR wins for its ease of use and clear feedback.

Brakes

Both motorcycles had a firm lever with zero fade. The R1M’s brakes felt more powerful, but they provided less feel. Some of that may have been related to the tires. I never experienced ABS intervention on the R1M, and I only felt it once on the S 1000 RR, even in its lowest setting.

The stock BMW rotors felt warped on brake initiation. I noticed the same thing on my personal S 1000 RR. Both bikes were held back in optimum braking performance by stock fork internals. More on that in the suspension section.

The BMW stood out with excellent feel while releasing the lever under load and lean angle. Maximum braking force gets a lot of attention, but being able to accurately manipulate final pressure approaching the slow point of the corner is just as important, if not more important.

Winner: BMW, for its superior brake feel at deep lean angles. Note: Brake feel is directly related to the fork internals and settings.

Suspension

This wasn’t even close. The R1M uses Öhlins 2.0 electronic suspension, and I’m not a fan. It felt overdamped and slow to react. The adjustment range is broad, but I still couldn’t get the feeling close to where I wanted it for quick, consistent, fast-paced track riding.

The R1M fork remained very stiff even after I made several counter adjustments. At the opposite end, the shock was too soft. Even after maximizing compression damping, the shock was still too soft and slow for what I needed at RMM.

The BMW? I made zero suspension adjustments, and it felt almost like a race bike. Firm where needed, compliant where required, and remarkably composed, especially considering I didn’t touch a single setting front or rear.

Both front ends exhibited hydraulic lock near the bottom of the stroke. That made it difficult to continue building brake force when I wanted to brake where my brain was telling me to do so. That became especially important when I was going for a quick lap time.

Winner: BMW. Hands down. That said, read my notes at the end about the standard YZF-R1.

Chassis

BMW nailed the chassis geometry with the stock-sized tires. The S 1000 RR reacts like a properly set-up race bike. Turn-in, brake release, trajectory on exits: The bike does everything well. It also transitions from side to side significantly quicker than the R1M, whose stiff fork and soft shock compromise its geometry on track.

There was very little I wanted from the BMW chassis that it didn’t already do. Again, read the notes at the end of this comparison for my thoughts on the standard YZF-R1 versus the YZF-M1 that I rode at RMM.

Winner: BMW. It feels almost like a race bike right off the showroom floor.

Transmission and gearing

Both bikes have tall OEM gearing, but how the two engines deal with that gearing is completely different. The characteristics of the R1M’s tune and crossplane engine allowed it to handle the tall gearing surprisingly well. I never had to use first gear.

The BMW was a different story. Due to the restricted tune, I had to use first gear for almost a quarter of the lap. At speed, this took most of my brain space. The BMW’s quickshifter and autoblip system, however, worked seamlessly, better than the system on the R1M.

The BMW’s traction control also intervened hard during wide-open, first-to-second-gear upshifts, even with TC at -4 in Pro Riding Mode. The BMW also has a more forgiving slipper clutch, which became noticeable with my many downshifts into first gear.

Winner: BMW, due to its more sophisticated and modern overall feel.

Stability

The R1M has an edgy feel. Not nervous. Not unstable. It just never feels completely settled. The S 1000 RR is a rock—completely planted. What’s interesting is that the R1M’s edginess didn’t necessarily prevent me from doing what I wanted to do.

But it made the experience feel busier, and I had to keep some brain space in reserve in case the Yamaha did something unexpected. The BMW made the same pace feel calmer, and I could use my brain space for other things.

Winner: BMW. It’s unflappable.

Lap times

This is where things got interesting, which is why it requires explanation. The BMW had some open laps, while all of my Yamaha laps were during school/student lapping sessions. As previously noted, I never got a completely clean lap on the R1M.

Because of that, I’m using theoretical best lap times, combining the best sectors for each bike.

BMW S 1000 RR: 1:45.48

Yamaha YZF-R1M: 1:45.19

Wait… What? The R1M was quicker? Yep. That surprised me, too. Looking at the AIM GPS speed graph begins to explain what happened. Note: Due to traffic, the R1M has a lower speed through turns 15 and 16. That’s another reason I chose theoretical best times.

A few things stand out: The Yamaha pulled just as well in second gear as the BMW did in first. The R1M carried more entry speed, helped by not having to use first gear, but also because I needed to put more force into the fork and stiff-sidewall Bridgestone in order to get them to compress.

That braking later and harder also produced a slightly later slow point. The BMW felt more precise, more composed, I assumed I was lapping a lot faster, but I wasn’t. I was expecting a BMW landslide. Somehow, quietly, the R1M clawed itself to the top.

Winner: R1M. I didn’t see that coming.

Special notes

Here’s where it gets interesting. After I finished testing the YZF-R1M, I had the opportunity to ride a standard YZF-R1 for a few laps. (Thanks Rob!) The R1 felt like a completely different brand of motorcycle than the R1M.

For me, it’s better, with none of the electronic Öhlins issues. Proper shock support and a front end that actually compresses and gives me what I want. In fact, after riding quite a few new-generation Ducati V4s, the R1 felt like 80% of that experience.

That’s a compliment, a big one. The chassis worked, the suspension worked, and that intoxicating connection between your right hand and the rear tire was still there. The YZF-R1 is a bike I would like to get to know even better.

Which bike wins overall?

When I was testing for national motorcycle publications, the bike of choice ultimately came down to one simple question: Which one, right here and right now, would you line up to race? For me, the BMW wins.

The S 1000 RR’s chassis, suspension, and braking feel outweigh the OEM flash and first-gear issues. Those are problems I know can be addressed. The fundamental platform underneath is incredibly good. I also feel the BMW is the best overall performance value.

For the price and with a few modifications, the S 1000 RR is capable of incredible lap times. That said, there is the standard YZF-R1. With its simpler analog suspension, intoxicating rear-tire feel, and crossplane engine, that particular Yamaha could be the dark horse.

I want to work with that motorcycle. Given the opportunity, then, I’d love to revisit this comparison, albeit on the same day and with the same tires: a YZF-R1 versus an unrestricted S 1000 RR. Hey, BMW and Yamaha, are you listening?

Special thanks

Being able to ride and compare these bikes wouldn’t have been possible without the support of exceptional people and organizations:

1. Rocky Mountain Motorsports Park Located north of Calgary, Alberta, RMM is a fantastic place to drive or ride. But it isn’t just the circuit that makes this venue special; it’s the people. They’re welcoming, passionate, and genuinely invested in motorsports and the people who participate in it.

2. Rob Darlington of HardNox Track Dayz Rob supplied both Yamahas, along with fresh Bridgestone tires, making this comparison possible. He runs a fantastic training program at RMM and is also one of my instructors for the RMM schools. Whether you’re brand-new to the track or a seasoned professional, Rob and HardNox have a program that can help you get more from your riding.

3. Justin Knapik of OnTrack Performance Justin, another one of my instructors, supplied the BMW S 1000 RR, fitted with fresh Pirelli tires from Perfect Lap. OnTrack Performance also runs an excellent program, based in Edmonton, with multiple training offerings to accommodate riders across a wide range of experience and skill levels.

Comparisons like this require far more than simply showing up and riding motorcycles. They require trust, time, equipment, tires, and people willing to support the process. I’m incredibly grateful to everyone who helped bring this unique experience together.

About Ken Hill

Ken Hill is considered the top motorcycle riding coach in the U.S. He bought his first motorcycle at age 30 and began road racing the very same year. Despite the late start, Ken went on to set track records and win class championships before making his professional debut in the AMA Superbike class, where he finished in the top 10 at age 41. Ken’s passion for learning and, ultimately, bettering the sport, led him to retire from racing in 2007 and devote himself full-time to coaching. Learn more at khcoaching.com.

During that conversation, I asked a pretty simple question: How many motorcycle crashes does Thunderhill have in a year? The answer? About 900. Nine hundred crashes. At one racetrack. In one year. I knew the number would be high, but I didn’t think it would be that high.

That conversation became the basis for a podcast published in 2017. Nearly a decade later, the subject is even more relevant. After all, nobody pulls through the gates of a racetrack planning to crash. I certainly don’t.

I’m not afraid of crashing, but I don’t want to crash. In fact, I’ve spent my entire career developing habits, processes, and techniques designed to make me faster while mitigating risk. But I also understand it can happen every time I roll onto the racing surface.

Cars. Motorcycles. Track days. Racing. Crashing has consequences. Acknowledging those consequences isn’t being negative. It isn’t driving or riding scared, either. And it doesn’t mean you’re expecting to crash. It just means you’re taking the sport seriously.

Are you taking the sport seriously?

This is one of the strange contradictions in motorsports. We spend thousands—sometimes tens of thousands—of dollars on motorcycles, cars, tires, suspension, entry fees, transportation, hotels, lap timers, and go-fast parts.

Then, we participate in a sport where a mistake can put us in an ambulance, and somehow planning for that possibility feels overly cautious. Let me tell you, and I’m speaking from experience here, it isn’t.

Years ago, I had a conversation with a few special forces operators who wanted to ride motorcycles. They asked me about training and were shocked by how little most people undertake for something with potentially enormous consequences.

To them, riding a motorcycle was riskier than their day job. That stuck with me. Most of us aren’t competing in a world championship. We’re normal people. We have jobs. Families. Mortgages. Businesses. People who depend on us.

We go to track days, club races, and schools because we love doing this. So if we’re going to participate in a sport with consequences, part of being serious about it is asking a question we would rather not ask: What happens if today goes wrong?

The conversation starts well before you get to the track. One of the biggest issues that came out of my original conversation with the Thunderhill crew had nothing to do with riding technique. It was logistics.

Do you come to the track alone? If you do, who is your pit buddy? Who knows where your truck keys are? What about your wallet and phone? Who has your emergency contact information? Who knows how to deal with your motorcycle or trailer?

Those questions seem ridiculously mundane when you’re setting tire pressures and getting suited up for the first session. They become incredibly important when you’re flat on your back in an ambulance.

You don’t need to travel with someone. But if you arrive alone, find somebody you trust and make them your pit buddy. “My keys are here. My wallet is here. My insurance information is here. My emergency contact is here.”

Done. And it only took 5 minutes. In that time, you’ve just eliminated a huge amount of unnecessary chaos if something happens. Consider the consequences. Don’t put yourself in a position to fail.

Know what your insurance actually covers

This was another point from the original podcast that caught me by surprise: Some riders don’t have insurance. Sometimes, even having insurance isn’t enough. Do you know exactly what your policy covers?

I’m not an insurance expert, so I’m not going to tell you what policy to buy. But I will tell you to ask questions. Am I covered while on the track? What about ambulance transportation? A helicopter? What if I am out of commission for an extended period?

Work the problem backward. What’s the worst-case scenario? Who could it affect? And what can you reasonably do to reduce those consequences? Again, this isn’t planning to crash. It’s planning for the consequences of participating in the sport. There’s a huge difference.

Don’t let logistics determine your medical care

Of everything I learned from that original conversation, this one may have surprised me the most. A rider crashes. Medical personnel recommend an ambulance. The response? “No, I’m good. I’ll drive myself.” Or, “I only live three hours away. I’ll just head home.”

Why? Because the truck is here. The trailer is here. Your vehicle needs to get loaded. The dog needs to be fed. You’ve got to get home. All perfectly legitimate problems. None of them, however, should determine the medical care you receive.

If something happens, take 10 seconds and ask: What’s the best course of action for this injury? Make that decision first. Then, figure out the logistics. Your truck can be retrieved and your vehicle loaded. Someone can bring your trailer home. Those are solvable problems.

What initially appeared to be a manageable injury can quickly and easily become a much bigger problem, potentially a life-changing experience, simply because getting appropriate care is seen as inconvenient.

Your gear isn’t a fashion statement

Helmet. Gloves. Boots. Suit. Airbag. I’m not going to turn this into a gear-buying guide, but there’s one incredibly simple standard: Your gear needs to fit, it needs to work, and it needs to be in good condition.

For years, I wore the wrong-size helmet. I didn’t know it until I was professionally fitted. I’ve seen gloves with holes. Boots with worn-out soles. Suits so tight the rider couldn’t move properly. Suits so loose the protection rotated from where it was needed most.

We all have our favorite gear. I do, too. But eventually it needs to be replaced. And airbags? I’m a huge fan. They’re expensive, but so is getting hurt. That said, you don’t have to run out today and replace everything you own.

When the time comes to replace your gear, make protection part of the decision, not just comfort, fancy looks, or discounted pricing. Give yourself every reasonable opportunity to walk away from even the worst crash.

Is your vehicle ready?

The same thinking applies to your motorcycle or car. Maintenance isn’t glamorous. Neither is preparation. But there are things that simply shouldn’t be negotiable when taking your vehicle onto a racetrack.

Is the vehicle mechanically sound? Are critical fasteners secure? Are the tires appropriate and in good condition? Is the engine leak-free? Are the brakes in satisfactory condition? Has someone competent looked over the entire machine?

I’ve crashed at more than 100 mph because another motorcycle dumped oil on a racetrack. That experience quickly changes your perspective. Preparation isn’t just about protecting you. It affects everyone sharing the track with you.

Are you willing to throw it down the road?

We love our vehicles. Beautiful paint. Carbon fiber. Trick suspension. Expensive wheels. Thousands of dollars in modifications. Then, we take them to the racetrack. Before making that step, you need to reconcile those two things.

I’m not saying you shouldn’t care about your equipment. Of course, you should. I’m saying you need to understand the environment. The same goes for letting someone else drive your car or ride your motorcycle.

If your buddy crashes, what happens? Who pays? If you’re handing the keys to a friend, assume the worst-case scenario before they leave pit lane, not after they’re standing next to you holding half a motorcycle. Have the conversation first.

Speed and safety aren’t opposing goals.

For a lot of people, safety means slowing down. I don’t see it that way. The same preparation that helps you become faster also helps you mitigate risk: Training. Technique. Fitness. Equipment. Vehicle preparation.

Decision-making. Knowing your limitations. Understanding the consequences. Developing a specific process. None of those things guarantees you won’t crash. There are absolutely no guarantees in motorsports.

If the goal is to remove all risk, don’t go to the racetrack. The goal is to understand the risk and make intelligent decisions about the elements you can control. That’s what professionals do. And you don’t need to be a professional racer to approach the sport professionally.

So, do you plan to crash today?

I don’t want to crash today, tomorrow, or during any of the thousands of laps I hope are still ahead of me, but I’ve planned for the possibility. There’s a difference. Know your equipment. Know your physical condition. Know your insurance.

Have your emergency information available. Have a pit buddy. Take your protective gear seriously. Prepare your vehicle. And if something does happen, make decisions based on what’s best for your health, not what’s most convenient for getting your truck home.

None of this makes for a glamorous Instagram post. It won’t drop two seconds from your lap time. It won’t move you from the B group to the A group. But it might make sure you’re able to return to ride another day.

Plan to go fast at the racetrack. Plan to improve. Plan to have fun. But don’t make the mistake of thinking that, just because you didn’t plan on crashing, you won’t and you don’t need to formulate a plan if the worst-case scenario actually does happen.

About Ken Hill

Ken Hill is considered the top motorcycle riding coach in the U.S. He bought his first motorcycle at age 30 and began road racing the very same year. Despite the late start, Ken went on to set track records and win class championships before making his professional debut in the AMA Superbike class, where he finished in the top 10 at age 41. Ken’s passion for learning and, ultimately, bettering the sport, led him to retire from racing in 2007 and devote himself full-time to coaching. Learn more at khcoaching.com.

To be clear, there isn’t a racetrack in the world where you spend less time accelerating than decelerating. Acceleration is the priority, but that doesn’t mean you can cruise your entries and just rely on strong exits to produce a fast lap.

You need both—a strong entry and a strong exit.

The problem

Making time on corner entry almost seems like a cheat code: “I’ll just brake later into the next corner.” That sounds like a great plan, until everyone else you’re on track with brakes well, too. Then, you find out the exit is the deciding factor.

I’ve been there. Late braking turns every straight into a drag race and every braking zone into a contest of who can go for the brakes at the last possible millisecond. It’s exhausting, inconsistent, and ultimately slower. So, let’s define what it means to rush a corner entry.

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Several times a week in the middle of the summer months, someone grabs me at a racetrack or sends me an urgent message. The conversation usually starts like this: “I’m stuck. I’m doing everything I can think of, but I’m just not getting any faster. Can you help?”

The actual wording might differ, but the problem is always the same. I empathize, because I’ve lived it, both as a competitor and as a coach helping other drivers and riders through the same struggle. Some break through. Others don’t. What’s the difference?

In my experience, the answer almost always comes down to one of three things:

1. You don’t really want to improve.

2. You’re working on the wrong thing.

3. You’re using the wrong references.

Each one of these can quietly, or not so quietly, stall your progress, even if you’re putting in hours at the track. Let’s break them down so you can identify where you’re losing ground and, more importantly, what you need to change to start moving forward again.

1. You don’t really want to improve

“Wait a minute. Yes, I do!” I know. That’s exactly what most people say to me. But wanting to improve isn’t the same as actually being willing to go through the process that creates real improvement.

Real improvement is uncomfortable. It requires humility, repetition, honest feedback, and letting go of habits that feel familiar. This takes time. Most people love the idea of getting better. Far fewer are willing to consistently do the things that getting better demands.

Over the years, through my coaching business, working with professional teams, and consulting in the motorsports industry, one thing has become clear: Drivers and riders who consistently improve share a handful of common traits.

Your coach isn’t your friend

A coach makes you better, not feel better. That means objective analysis, honest conversation, and recommendations that aren’t influenced by protecting your ego. Clear boundaries build trust, because the goal is to lap the track as quickly and safely as possible.

Humility

Improvement begins with humility. If you believe you have all the answers, you’ve already stopped learning. The best athletes maintain a curious mindset because they know there’s always a better way. The best will do anything to improve their lap time.

Feedback

Learn to receive feedback without taking it personally. Honest evaluations can sting and be humbling. But good feedback isn’t criticism; it’s a roadmap. Likewise, your own feedback should be objective and emotion-free. That’s how an effective coaching loop works.

Do what the best do

Study the best in the world and model their process. They’re not successful by accident. If there were a better way, they would be doing it. Your degree of application may differ, but the underlying habits, mindset, and techniques shouldn’t.

Put in your reps

“Amateurs practice until they get it right. Professionals practice until they can’t get it wrong.” The habits and techniques in motorsports aren’t natural. They need to be perfected through training and, because they’re perishable, practiced with appropriate report cards. You can do it, too.

2. You’re working on the wrong thing

My fundamentals and progression for learning the sport were developed by working with thousands of students, everyone from rank novices to championship-winning professionals, in virtually every environment.

Clear patterns emerged: There is a logical order to improve. Ignore that order, focusing on incremental improvements versus fundamental improvements, and you’ll spend your time polishing details while the fundamentals continue to hold you back.

Working on your brake-application point while consistently missing apexes or changing fork and shock springs when you’re still 10 seconds off the pace is the equivalent of trying to perfect your frosting recipe on a cake that you keep burning.

3. You’re using the wrong references

This point usually falls into two categories: lap times and comparing yourself with others. Both have developed as the gold standard in motorsports. While they have their place, they’re poor tools for improvement. They’re excellent scoreboards but terrible coaches.

Lap times

Let’s be clear: A lap time is the byproduct of the many decisions and inputs executed over the previous minute or two. Watching your timer, imagining a better number, or telling yourself to “push” isn’t technique; it’s simply hoping for a better outcome.

We’re obsessed with lap times, which is how it should be. After all, a quick lap time is the objective. But even if you’re half a second off your personal best and chasing a lap to beat it, the lap timer only describes your place in the moment—not how to better that lap.

Lap times don’t improve when you stare at your timer or try harder. You improve the outcome by bettering the hundreds or thousands of actions that make up that lap. The lap time simply spells out in black and white how well you executed everything.

Comparing yourself to others

There’s a time and a place to use another driver or rider’s pace as a reference point. Using it as the primary measurement of your personal improvement on that particular day, however, is a dangerous trap.

Someone else’s lap is another data point. It isn’t the data point. You likely don’t know their experience, equipment, coaching, confidence, risk tolerance, or even what they’re working on that day. All you see is the result.

Study it. Learn from it. Be curious about it. But don’t build your program around it. Build your program around the fundamentals and skills that produce speed. The lap time, and eventually the comparison, will take care of itself.

Conclusion

If you take one thing away from this post, let it be this: Stop chasing the outcome. Stop chasing lap times. Stop chasing other people. Instead, chase the fundamentals in the right order that ultimately produce a winning lap time.

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About Ken Hill

Ken Hill is considered the top motorcycle riding coach in the U.S. He bought his first motorcycle at age 30 and began road racing the very same year. Despite the late start, Ken went on to set track records and win class championships before making his professional debut in the AMA Superbike class, where he finished in the top 10 at age 41. Ken’s passion for learning and, ultimately, bettering the sport, led him to retire from racing in 2007 and devote himself full-time to coaching. Learn more at khcoaching.com.

In qualifying for June’s Grand Prix of The Netherlands, less than seven-tenths of a second covered the first 10 MotoGP riders. That same weekend, at the Austrian Grand Prix, the top 10 Formula 1 drivers qualified within nine-tenths of a second.

When the margins are that small, guessing isn’t an option.

After every session, professional teams evaluate performance, identify what is holding back the driver or rider, prioritize the greatest limitation, and build a plan for the next on-track opportunity. It’s a continuous evaluation loop all based on one goal: winning.

What does that have to do with your next track day or club race? Everything.

While you may not have a crew of engineers analyzing every lap, the process should be exactly the same. Without an individualized evaluation loop, you’re guessing. You’re hoping for a better outcome instead of deliberately creating one.

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Eyeball-flattening acceleration and top speeds deep into triple digits are certainly intoxicating and absolutely necessary for a quick lap, but to achieve that performance on a track, and I can’t stress this enough, braking determines how much acceleration you’re willing to use.

But what if you’re not good at braking? My S 1000 RR reached 171 mph on Summit Point Motorsports Park’s front straight, followed by a minimum slow-point speed of 41 mph for turn one. That required roughly 1.08g of deceleration on the bike and 1.3g in a car.

Without a plan to offset such speed, what would my top end have been on that track? Definitely not 171 mph. Acceleration comfort comes from one place: braking confidence. You can accelerate because you know you are going to slow down.

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I’ve crashed enough motorcycles during my lifetime to know that tipping over at speed sits near the very top of my personal list of things I never want to do again. Not because I’m afraid of falling off, but because doing so represents failure in multiple forms:

• Potential injury

• Destroyed equipment

• Lost track time

• Wasted money

• Embarrassment

Simply put, crashing sucks. Beyond that, chronic crashing isn’t sustainable for anyone who wants longevity in motorsports on either two or four wheels. Yet many drivers and riders have practically accepted that crashing is part of the racing or track-day culture.

I frequently hear the following comments at tracks I visit around the country. “There are two types of motorcyclists [or drivers]: Those who have crashed and those who are going to crash.” And, “Crashing is just part of finding the limit.”

Accidents happen. People make mistakes. Machinery fails. Sometimes, circumstances are outside our control. I’m not talking about those crashes. I’m talking about a rider slipping off on an “out” lap. Or a driver pushing for a personal best on overheated, heat-cycled rubber.

Most crashes in amateur racing or at track days have little in common with those seen at the highest levels of the sport. Formula 1 drivers and MotoGP riders extract hundredths of a second while operating at the absolute edge. How many crash on an out lap? Very few.

I originally published a version of this post six years ago as a podcast and more recently in written form. I’ve repurposed it here after overhearing a conversation last week between two riders. The crux of it was, “Sometimes, you just have to crash to find the limit.”

No, no you don’t. I found myself reflecting on an incredible statistic from the RiCKdiculous Racing School. In 2019, the instructors, of which I was one, students, and guest riders completed 16,900 combined laps. And there wasn’t a single crash. Not one. Zero.

At the same time, nearly everyone involved set PBs throughout the season. And to be clear, we didn’t put every bike in “rain mode.” From new riders to national-level winning professionals, all of us got after it. No speed limits, just carefully planned control limits.

So, how did all of those riders complete tens of thousands of laps without a single one of them ending up on the ground? The answer wasn’t luck. And it certainly wasn’t because people rode cautiously. The answer was deliberate focus.

Every session had a purpose. Every lap had objectives. Every segment had a plan. Every outing had a debrief. There weren’t any random laps. No “let’s see what happens.” No “I hope today is a good day.”

This is where drivers and riders become trapped. We often believe speed and safety sit at opposite ends of a spectrum. If safety goes up, speed goes down. If speed goes up, risk increases. But that hasn’t been my experience.

In fact, the exact same process that reduces crashes is often the process that creates speed. Read that again. Clear objectives. Defined focus. Understanding what should happen and when. Knowing where your attention belongs.

This is because we rarely crash from too much process. We crash because we stray from that process. Lap times replace technique. Emotion replaces objective evaluation. And that’s where the problems begin.

This is the ultimate dilemma of our sport. Nobody wants to crash, yet everyone wants to go faster. The good news? Those two goals are not mutually exclusive. The drivers and riders making the biggest gains usually aren’t pushing the hardest.

Rather, they’re the one operating with the clearest process. They have a deliberate focus. They employ purposeful fundamentals. They have a plan. It isn’t luck. It isn’t talent. And it certainly isn’t found through random laps and hope.

Speed comes from process. It’s the same process that creates consistency, confidence, and understanding. Because the goal is never simply to just go faster. The goal is to understand more, control more, to work the process. Speed is the byproduct.

About Ken Hill

Ken Hill is considered the top motorcycle riding coach in the U.S. He bought his first motorcycle at age 30 and began road racing the very same year. Despite the late start, Ken went on to set track records and win class championships before making his professional debut in the AMA Superbike class, where he finished in the top 10 at age 41. Ken’s passion for learning and, ultimately, bettering the sport, led him to retire from racing in 2007 and devote himself full-time to coaching. Learn more at khcoaching.com.

The plan

1. Track walk

2. First three laps

3. Post-session debriefs

4. Building from one session to the next

Track walk

If a track walk is available, take advantage of it. Whether it’s a track day or a race weekend, actual on-track time is extremely limited. Looking at the environment before turning a wheel at speed provides a massive advantage when you’re trying to get comfortable quickly.

Let’s pause for a second. We’ve all seen videos in which a professional driver or rider leads a track walk and dissects every inch of the circuit. The information may be incredible, but that level of detail, especially on your first visit to a new venue, can also be overwhelming.

Those details are often valuable. It’s just that they’re valuable later. Remembering every seam, line, shift point, and minute detail should not be a priority. First, you need to focus on orientation, structure, and references—fundamental, not incremental, improvements.

What should you be doing on an initial track walk?

1. Confirming corner types

2. Establishing an exit reference or track-out point

3. Identifying the location of the entry apex (hint: work backward from exit reference)

4. Earmarking turn-in references

5. Noting bridge references for elevation changes, blind sections, or places where the next reference disappears

Ultimately, the goal is to build a plan for every inch of the racetrack. At first, your internal map is mostly blank. The track walk begins building that map.

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Scott Russell, the 1993 Superbike World Champion and a Grand-Am Rolex Sports Car Series race-winner, had the opposite approach: pure chaos. Scott would tear out of pit lane like he was on the final lap of a GP battling for the victory, pushing brake markers to the edge of the precipice. Occasionally, he slipped over the edge and off the track.

Spencer and Russell took two very different paths to finding the limits on an unfamiliar track. So, which method is correct? And more importantly, will focusing on one or the other help you? I’ve spent a lot of time listening to both Spencer and Russell, asking them questions, and even sharing the track with them, studying both cases to fully understand what was happening.

With some time and serious reflection, the answer became clear to me: Both approaches are correct. They are very different, but at the end of the day, they deliver the same information. By decoding each one, I built a repeatable process that delivers clear, actionable objectives that anyone, from novice to pro, can execute immediately and safely.

The process begins with knowledge objectives and a paper track map. Let’s get after it.

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Learning a new racetrack is often a mixed bag of emotions. There’s the excitement of a fresh challenge, which is countered by the uncertainty of unraveling the subtle complexities of an unfamiliar ribbon of asphalt. “What if I’m slow? Will the track come to me? Maybe I just need another day or two…”

Over the past few decades, I’ve had countless conversations with champion drivers and riders about the different ways in which they approach unfamiliar circuits. More importantly, I’ve had the opportunity to be on track with many of them while learning a new layout, and that’s where I discovered the real insight.

It’s not what they said. Rather, it’s what they did. That’s the moment for me when the shift took place. When professionals arrive at a new track, their focus isn’t on learning the layout. It’s on placing their current fundamentals in a new environment. That’s how to approach mastering a track.

Professionals don’t wait for the track to “come to them.” They come to the track. They take what they already do well—what they know works—and apply it. The setting changes, but the process doesn’t. A good exit is a good exit. A good entry is a good entry, no matter where that corner is located anywhere in the world.

Through years of working within structured schools, coaching environments, and my own unique experiences, I’ve tested and validated this process over and over again. The result? I now expect to be within 5 to 7% of my target pace in less than 10 laps. Read that again: 10 laps. That’s right, 10 laps.

Are there caveats? Absolutely. You must be comfortable with your vehicle and you need to understand available grip. Even so, that goal is absolutely achievable. In fact, I recently proved it to myself at Michelin Raceway Road Atlanta, despite a 27-year on-track absence from the fast, rolling Georgia circuit.

I will break all of this down in a three-part series:

Part 1: What it takes to learn a track quickly

Part 2: Before you get to the track

Part 3: How to get up to speed fast

Part 1: What it takes to learn a track quickly

Open YouTube, watch a few racing videos, maybe even grab some laps in a simulator, and you’re good to go, right? Nope. Not even close, in fact. Bottom line, there are three critical elements that, if followed, will get you inside that 5-to-7% window almost immediately:

• Current state of your fundamentals

• Feel references

• Track dynamics

That’s it. Everything else—fine details, nuances, last percentage points—only begins to matter once those three elements are firmly in place. Worrying about where to short shift or debating minor changes in line selection will have little effect if you are incapable of the following:

• Demonstrating a working grasp of the fundamentals

• Understanding track dynamics, specifically the location of the slow point of each corner

• Building strong entries and exits through the correct application of braking and acceleration forces

• Using standardized references to build your internal track map

• Knowing when you did something correctly

Execute these points and speed will come quickly, safely, and repeatably. Miss them, and you’ll be left chasing laps instead of building pace, hoping the track eventually “comes to you” and telling yourself, “I just need another day or two.” Know this: Hope is not a technique.

Current state of your fundamentals

The current state of your fundamentals is about taking what you already know and placing it in a new environment. If your braking is good, it will be good elsewhere.
If your vision skills are solid, they will be solid elsewhere. Think of it like this: A skilled pilot can land at any airport. A trained quarterback can perform in any stadium. An experienced musician can play on any stage. Different environments, same fundamentals.

Feel references

I’ve written extensively on feel references, what they are and where they live on track. At the very core, that’s what this is all about. If you know what a good exit feels like, or what proper brake timing delivers, you can capture that feeling anywhere. That’s why the best are at speed almost immediately. They know what fast feels like, and they can place it anywhere. Here’s a collection of previously published articles that breaks down feel and feel references in detail.

Track dynamics

Vehicle placement is more than “learning the line.” It’s the first fundamental in the “Order of the Sport” because it demands a deeper understanding of what you should be doing on the track and when you should be doing it for each individual corner. Focus on these areas:

• Identify the type of corner

• Identify the slow point

• Know where to use the track

• Prioritize the correct control

• Identify the vital points

Part 1 wrap-up

Yeah, I know. We all want to get out there and haul ass. Me, too. But this first part is about clarity and what’s actually required to learn a track and get up to speed quickly. It deserves the space to understand what the best are doing and why it works. Part 2 is where everything comes to life. The actual how, with real examples and data.

About Ken Hill

Ken Hill is considered the top motorcycle riding coach in the U.S. He bought his first motorcycle at age 30 and began road racing the very same year. Despite the late start, Ken went on to set track records and win class championships before making his professional debut in the AMA Superbike class, where he finished in the top 10 at age 41. Ken’s passion for learning and, ultimately, bettering the sport, led him to retire from racing in 2007 and devote himself full-time to coaching. Learn more at khcoaching.com.

Everywhere you look, from internet forums to the know-it-all pitted next you, unsolicited advice is rampant. Everyone, me included, is eager to tell you what you need to do and how to do it.

And yet, many drivers and riders continue to plateau, unsure what to do next, second-guessing themselves, “What if I can’t improve? Is this as good as I get?”

More information doesn’t equal more progress. In fact, very little of it is designed specifically for you. Instead, it leans on universal truths and recycled catchphrases.

What if there were an approach that was far simpler to execute, cut through all the noise, and actually moved the needle?

Knowing when you did it right

I’ve worked with clients who believed they had no business being on track—they didn’t belong, they weren’t good enough.

Initially, some elements of that were true. But every one of them possessed a powerful tool that enabled them to overcome their lack of confidence: the desire to improve.

To break that mental block, we focused solely on what to do right. It cleared the path to execution and built the belief they did belong and were good enough.

Focusing on what you do right is simpler and far more effective than chasing the more common what you did wrong or what you think you can’t do.

The “what went wrong” path leads to an endless rabbit hole of negativity. But a few clear “Did I do it right?” objectives for each fundamental flip the script.

Your focus shifts from what you can’t do to what you can do. The result is report cards that confirm in real time if you did it right.

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“Less brakes, more gas.”

“The fast guys barely use the brakes.”

“Brakes just slow you down. It’s all about momentum and corner speed.”

These statements are repeated so frequently they are practically accepted as universal truths. Many apply them to any conditions, corner, track, or vehicle.

Taken literally, they are incorrect. The problem isn’t the expressions themselves so much as the dilution of their original meaning.

What do these phrases actually mean?

“Less brakes, more gas” means, “Accelerate longer, brake shorter.”

“The fast guys barely use the brakes” means, “The fastest drivers and riders use the brakes at exactly the right time and with exactly the right pressure—not less braking, better braking.”

“Brakes just slow you down” means, “Using the brakes improperly makes you slower. Proper braking is the tool that allows you to maximize momentum and speed on corner entry.”

Without effective braking, you can’t place the vehicle correctly, control the slow point, or accelerate early. If you don’t develop these skills, you can’t go fast. It’s that simple.

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I left New Jersey Motorsports Park at the end of the last year’s riding season genuinely impressed with my 2025 BMW S1000RR. What’s not to like? Solid lap times, 162 mph on the front straight, and, overall, very good handling. It’s a bike I enjoy riding, but… There’s always a but.

During the off-season, I have been training primarily in Florida. I was curious how the S 1000 RR would perform at Jennings GP, a 2-mile, 14-turn track that is notoriously hard on rear tires and a true test of rear grip. It didn’t take long to find out. The answer was, “Not well.”

The shock was near its limits at NJMP, but at Jennings, the BMW had very little rear grip. The harder I pushed, the worse the situation became. After the first day, I parked the bike until I could find a solution. I wasn’t going any faster without addressing the lack of control.

There are many aftermarket shock options for the S 1000 RR, but installing any one of them would likely require upgrading the fork cartridges to maintain chassis balance. I wanted a solution that was as close to stock as possible, while substantially improving rear control.

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I created this page to help you quickly source the information you need to address areas that are holding you back on the racetrack—right now. Rather than endlessly scrolling through my site, simply choose the topic that best matches whatever challenge you are currently facing.

Each section briefly explains why that particular topic is important, followed by links to relevant articles, podcasts, and videos. The six fundamentals are interconnected, but progress starts by addressing the right subject at the right time. This builds confidence.

This tab is conveniently located at the top right of the home page here:

My first love has always been cars, but my on-track journey began with motorcycles. When I finally got to spend time in a car on a racetrack, I assumed the learning curve would be steep. After all, the controls, sensations, and techniques are completely different, right?

I give full credit to my former Yamaha Champions Riding School colleague Nick Ienatsch for shattering that assumption in about five seconds. Nick, who is an incredibly accomplished racer, author, and instructor, and also happens to be wickedly fast in a car, made the transition simple.

When I asked him how to approach driving, his answer was immediate: “Everything is the same. Drive like you’re riding a bike; just trade lean angle for steering-wheel angle.” That was it. No complicated explanation, no long technical breakdown, just a clean translation.

Nick gave me confidence that I could do it, and since then, decades of car track time, decoding thousands of data files, interviews with top-level driving coaches, and tens of thousands of laps—both driving for myself and instructing—have only reinforced that belief.

Yes, there are differences, some of which are important, but they are far smaller than most people imagine. First and foremost, the fundamentals—the things you should be doing whenever you are driving a car or riding a motorcycle—don’t change.

• Vehicle placement is still king and determines outcomes

• Vision skills are vision skills; references and eye timing don’t change

• Motor controls create adjustability by managing weight transfer and contact patches

• Brake adjustability still shapes entry speed and steering

• Turn-in point and turn-in rate continue to dictate where you end up in a corner

• Body position and body timing matter, for both bikes and cars

• The slowest point of the corner still defines the sport

Handlebar or steering wheel, you are managing the same physics, grip budget, and human limitations. The tool has changed, but the degree of application and priorities haven’t. Once you realize this, bikes and cars stop feeling like separate worlds and become different dialects of the same language.

Let’s break down the following AIM speed graphs comparing cars to motorcycles to understand what aspects are similar and where the differences lie. First, let’s focus on a couple of car-versus-car GPS speed graphs to determine if the same fundamentals hold true for different cars running at a similar on-track pace.

The first graph represents a 2017 Chevrolet Corvette Grand Sport (red) vs. a 2019 Chevrolet Camaro ZL1 1LE (blue) at the 2-mile-long Nelson Ledges Road Course in Garrettsville, Ohio. Both cars were in near-stock configurations running under 1-minute, 11-second lap times, which puts them at the sharp end of the advanced group.

The second graph shows a 2016 Porsche GT3 RS (blue) vs. another Camaro, a 2021 SS 1LE (red), at the Ridge Motorsports Park near Shelton, Washington. Both vehicles were track-prepped and lapped the 16-turn, 2.47-mile road course in less than 1 minute and 46 seconds, which is also at the sharp end of the advanced group.

Highlights

• Overall shapes are near identical

• Slow-point position remains close to the same and only changes based on driver inputs and/or individual vehicle mechanical differences

• Main difference is how they get to and from the slow point, regardless of different acceleration and top speeds

Now, let’s introduce a bike at four tracks with wildly different characteristics. Let’s start with the same venues, Nelson Ledges and the Ridge, retaining the graphs for the cars. Note: Whereas bikes use the chicane at the Ridge, cars do not. The 2023 Suzuki GSX-R750 (black) was prepped to MotoAmerica Supersport Next Generation spec and ridden by a professional racer.

Highlights

• Right out of the gate, the acceleration of the bike is staggering

• Bike brakes earlier, partly due to its higher top speed

• Bike relies on a more vee-shaped slow point due to its smaller tire contact patches

• Slow-point positions are nearly the same, with the bike’s slow point coming slightly later

Finally, let’s look at two more tracks, again very different: 12-turn, 2.25-mile Thunderbolt Raceway at New Jersey Motorsports Park in Millville, New Jersey, using a 2025 BMW M4 CS and a 2023 Yamaha YZF-R1 (bikes utilize the Turn 3 chicane), and 10-turn, 2-mile Summit Point Motorsports Park located in Summit Point, West Virginia, again with the Camaro ZL1 1LE paired with a 2023 Suzuki GSX-R750.

Lap times at both tracks were at the sharp end of advanced pace, circulating under 1 minute, 30 seconds at NJMP and 1 minute, 20 seconds at Summit Point.

Highlights

• Acceleration and top speed of the mid-displacement bike compared to the high-powered cars are mind-blowing

• Slow-points positions and minimum speeds of the bike remain close to those of the cars

• In some corners with exits that open up, the slow point for comes earlier and the bike carries more speed

I referenced high-performance production vehicles, but what about less-powerful machines, open-wheel cars, and prototypes? Trends remain the same. Less-powerful bikes and cars produce nearly identical graph shapes, just at lower speeds. Open-wheel cars and prototypes can carry higher slow-point speeds and often reach them slightly earlier, but the margins are surprisingly small.

Major Differences Between Bikes and Cars on Track

1. Contact Patch and Weight: A car has a significantly larger total contact patch than a motorcycle—on the order of 500% greater—which gives it higher absolute-grip potential in both braking and cornering. A significant portion of that grip, however, is consumed simply supporting the overall mass of the car.

2. Power-to-Weight Ratio: A motorcycle’s power-to-weight ratio is massively superior to nearly all production cars. This dramatically changes how quickly inputs translate into acceleration and direction changes, as well as the precision those inputs require.

3. Coaching: Motorcycles generally are more difficult to coach and take longer to see improvements. Cars, by contrast, allow instructors to share space and time, experiencing the same feel references in real time through right-seat coaching, which accelerates learning.

4. Vehicle Placement: The most important reference for going fast safely is largely the same between bikes and cars, with nuances driven by corner radius and corner length. The intent—where the vehicle needs to be on track and why—does not fundamentally change.

5. Vision and Focus: Vision strategy is nearly identical. The primary difference is that motorcycles provide a much larger inventory of feel references and a heightened sense of speed, both of which influence perception and decision-making.

6. Motor Controls: These are conceptually the same, but motorcycles demand more deliberate and finer inputs due to higher power-to-weight ratios and smaller contact patches. Errors are magnified more quickly.

7. Brake Adjustability: This is a major difference. During braking, a motorcycle’s fork compresses, sharpening geometry and increasing steering response and feel. This dynamic geometry change plays a significant role in how a bike turns and communicates grip.

8. Turn-In Point and Turn-In Rate: These remain fundamentally the same. The timing and rate-of-direction change still dictate where the vehicle sets up the entry, slow point, and exit.

9. Body Position: Another major difference. On a motorcycle, rider mass has a profound effect on braking, turning, acceleration, and available lean angle. It’s common for the rider to account for 50% or more of the bike’s total weight. Imagine being able to move 50% of a car’s mass in real time, which would dramatically alter the dynamics everywhere on track.

10. Shared Similarity: One key similarity between bikes and cars is the importance of proper ergonomics, being positioned correctly to support effective motor-control use. Excess weight on the arms or hands is a problem in both bikes and cars, degrading feel, control, and consistency.

11. Taking Advantage of Extra Grip: A car’s larger contact patch is most apparent in the final 50 feet of deceleration. By this point in corner entry, the platform has settled and the tires are fully engaged. That extra grip allows a driver to finish establishing direction with steering-wheel angle while still carrying roll speed, something that is far easier to achieve in a car than on a motorcycle.

Conclusion

John Surtees, Jeff Ward, Scott Russell, and Valentino Rossi are just four examples of champion motorcycle racers who went on to have genuine success in cars. Not because bikes and cars are the same, but because the process is the same. I’ve spoken with Ward and Russell about their accomplishments, and the answer is always the same: The tool changed, but the fundamentals didn’t. Vehicle placement, vision, motor controls, and using the brakes still decide the result. Master those and the platform becomes secondary.

About Ken Hill

Ken Hill is considered the top motorcycle riding coach in the U.S. He bought his first motorcycle at age 30 and began road racing the very same year. Despite the late start, Ken went on to set track records and win class championships before making his professional debut in the AMA Superbike class, where he finished in the top 10 at age 41. Ken’s passion for learning and, ultimately, bettering the sport, led him to retire from racing in 2007 and devote himself full-time to coaching. Learn more at khcoaching.com.