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There’s a bond forged between motos with the children of the clay and the sand. These friendships, crafted in a language of “Braps” and hand whoops will go from the days of digging in the dirt with tiny toy dirt bikes - the cheap ones that break every time - to the rippin’ of the pits as a posse of pals where MotoDad yells out “Slow down!,” knowing good and well he will hear the shift of the bike and crackle of laughter as soon as MotoKid turns the corner.

This brotherhood, one that takes boyhood into the ages of men will help craft who these children are, and eventually who THEIR children will become. They learn to be fiercely competitive with each other on the track, identifying one another by the sounds of the revs and bumps of elbows. Then, they come off and sit in the cheaply bought and overly used pit chairs, pull off their sweaty helmets and cheer each other for that day’s battle wounds and prizes won.

These moto friendships will teach them to love their rival racers, to want them to succeed as badly as they want their own successes, and to find a come up together.

When they’re past their primes, likely after they’ve left the sport to return again decades long after, they will relive these moments. Many of them together, and with their own little Moto Dudes.


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