Veteran MX isn’t about the forgotten C class weekend warrior. It’s something way deeper. It’s a family, a bond, a band of brothers and sisters who’ve chosen a life most of us only catch a glimpse of during preboarding on a crowded flight. It’s that 3 a.m. phone call: “I’m not doing good.” But this time, there’s community. There’s help. There’s Veteran MX.
Started nearly a decade ago, Veteran Motocross Foundation—affectionately known as Vet MX—has grown into a 501(c)(3) nonprofit with more than 1,500 members coast to coast made up of veterans and active duty alike, all drawn together by dirt, throttle therapy, and purpose.
As the son of a 101st Airborne Army veteran who taught me how to twist a throttle, I wanted to go deeper, so I sat down with Veteran MX President, former U.S. Army Sergeant Mark Coday, to learn more of his story as well as what Veteran MX truly means.

From Waves to Whoops
Coday grew up in Southern California. His father, a District 37 desert racer, Coday’s holidays were traded for desert life. Surfboards and scrambles, sun-baked tracks and salty swells, they were his world. When his father passed away during high school, he lost more than a riding partner, he lost a connection. Surfing replaced dirt bikes for a while, the ocean’s lull balancing grief.
Eventually, the military called, his dad had been USMC after all, and Coday enlisted too. But duty often pins you somewhere landlocked, and surfing faded. Motocross tracks? They were everywhere. And soon, old thrills returned. Waxing boards turned into cleaning air filters and lubing chains.
One night, watching Supercross, he saw a Where I Watch SX From photo of Dustin and Cody Blankinship, Vet MX’s founders, posting from a hotel room. He quickly gave them a follow on social media. A couple weeks later he saw they were auctioning off a signed Ricky Carmichael jersey. Coday, a jersey collector since childhood races with his dad, jumped in and won. When the box arrived, he not only opened it up to find the signed icon, but also a membership card. He was now a member of Veteran MX.
Perplexed because he was in SoCal and Vet MX seemed small and local at the time based in Virginia, he reached out. Dustin and Cody explained it wasn’t a club anchored to one area; it was a foundation of ownership. Wherever a veteran showed up, that was Veteran MX territory.
Skeptical at first, his wife nudged him to pursue it. Soon, the canopy went up at local SoCal tracks, and membership swelled to over 150 riders strong. With that community behind him he was quickly asked to become a regional director and shortly after that joined the board. Within a few short years the board voted him to become President driven entirely by passion, alongside other board members who all keep full-time jobs.

A Real-Deal Healing Community
Sure, motocross is fun but for Vet MX, it’s rooted in necessity. With an average of 22 veterans lost to suicide every day, a number many believe might be significantly undercounted, this community is more than horsepower therapy. It’s a lifeline.
The foundation’s mission is crystal clear: use motocross to heal, recover, re-assimilate. They pair veterans with tracks, coaches, clinics—and each other.
At riding clinics like one in SoCal which hosted 71 veterans, standout coaches (Jeff Emig, Vicki Golden, among them), Elevate Action Sports support, and donated tracks make it all possible. Riders learn starts, turns, body position… and most importantly, rediscover connection.
Most telling? Some vets say there are often times they don’t even unload their bike, they end up talking for hours. The bike is a conduit to camaraderie, to healing.
This year’s centerpiece: the 5th Annual AMA Veteran MX Championship which runs September 19–21 in Maize, Kansas, alongside the Kansas AMA State Championship and Adaptive Motocross Championship. This isn’t just a race, it’s a seven-day retreat, with open practice, family camping, MRE challenges, pit bike races, and a Holeshot competition. Branch-of-service team classes, championship rings instead of trophies, and accessibility support race fees, gate fees, etc. all covered for veterans. Over 100 riders just this year, all free.

Why This Matters
Throttle therapy, yeah, that’s real. When you’re full throttle, nothing else breaks through. Pain, stress, trauma disappear in the whoops. You either scrape the wall or hit your line but the ride demands focus, and in focus comes healing.
But even that is secondary. What matters is that no veteran rides alone. Vet MX gives veterans roots, forever speaking to purpose, belonging, and a sense that they—like their bikes—are still in motion.

How You Can Help
Want in? Whether you’re a vet or someone who wants to back these heroes, membership starts at just $20 per year, unlocking Warrior Class races, discounts, and community access Veteran MX. You can donate, sponsor a rider (as little as $150), or support riding clinics and championships. Organizations like MotoSport back the cause matching donations and supplying gear. Visit www.veteranmx.com for more information.
The Real Vet Class
Veteran MX isn’t waving a faded vet flag. This is real, rooted, raw, uplifting. A chosen pack that picks each other up with bikes, grit, and shared scars. And when that group lines up at the gate, there’s nothing washed-up about it. It’s healing at full throttle, and that’s a race worth joining.
Images: JVL.Photo



Too bad they don’t practice what they preach. Can’t even get them to return official emails or requests for phone calls that were known to go through . Never happened in any type of organization I have dealt with before. There is no official path to correspondence. They will put all kinds of effort into being on TV , podcasts, interviews or doing stuff for themselves as a board. There non profit information on their website hasn’t even been updated since 2021. A lot of good old boy operations that’s not run like a real non profit whatsoever . No paperwork trail and nothing formally reported to members in any form or fashion. Extremely unusual. It’s pretty sad when people were actually willing to help them. With so much effort. They just wanted to cover everything up and not welcome anything.