Motocross was never just a sport for us, it was a heartbeat, a rhythm, a season of life that shaped who we are as a family.

I’m ready to get back to the gate.

There was something special about those long days when everything was dirty, when the bikes always seemed to need just one more tweak, when it was freezing in the winter and blazing in the summer. The early mornings, the late nights, the busted knuckles, the gas-stained gloves, it was all part of the grind. And even though we spent a lot of time and even more money, none of it ever felt wasted.

Because in the middle of all that chaos, we grew.

Motocross bonded us. It challenged us. It made us communicate, sacrifice, and come together like only families in the trenches understand. Every setback made us tighter. Every breakthrough made us louder. And the laughter? It carried us all the way to the line, every single weekend.

I miss motocross, the sound, the smell, the competition, the adrenaline.

But the truth is…

What I miss the most is the people.

The parents running around like pit crew warriors.

The kids ripping the track with fearless hearts.

The conversations in the pits.

The families grinding beside us, weekend after weekend.

The community that showed up in the rain, the heat, and the cold because this sport teaches you resilience, passion, and connection like nothing else.

Motocross gave us memories, lessons, and relationships that go way beyond lap times. And now, feeling that pull again, I’m reminded that sometimes the things that wore you out the most are the same things that made you feel the most alive.

I’m ready to bring that energy back.

Ready to load up, line up, and look around at the people who made the journey worth it.

Ready to get back to the dirt, the noise, the chaos, and the family that comes with it.

Because at the end of the day…

Motocross isn’t just a sport.

It’s a tribe.

And I’m ready to come home.