Two-wheeler drivers have specific codes to communicate with each other or with other vehicles on the road. Here is what these gestures mean.
When they drive on the road, bikers communicate with each other by all gestures of everyone, as a kind of coded signs. Most of the time, it is to prevent other users from their presence, signify them an oversight of the lighthouse for example, or even signify an imminent danger. It also happens that they hold out to thank the motorist for letting him pass. When they exceed a car which rolls a little too fast or which is too close to the white line, they then reach out to encourage the driver to fall back a little more on the side or to slow down his speed. But a particular gesture is intended to prevent another danger on the road.
Most of the time, it is also an imminent danger to warn other drivers. This can be a hen nest, an object on the road, or more broadly, a way to alert the presence of the police, a radar or a road control. This gesture somehow means “Be careful, be careful, slow down!” Indeed, if most motorists have gotten into the habit of consulting applications such as Waze, which indicate the dangers in real time, there is nothing more effective sometimes than a gesture that makes sense. But you still have to know him.
So, if you come across a biker who carries the left hand on his helmet, you will be warned! It is a bit as if the hand on the helmet became a silent siren. She doesn’t make any noise, but she alerts. She protects. Of course, the horn has the function of preventing an imminent danger and it is possible to report a problem by headlight calls.
Remember, however, that it is better to keep both hands on the steering wheel. Anyway, it is necessary to keep your eyes well open by driving, and to remain attentive to all the signs allowing us to alert us in the event of danger, in order to adapt your speed on the road. Because each gesture has its meaning and for bikers, this way of communicating is sometimes essential, and then, it can be used for everyone.
