Supercross Denver 2025: Tiny Bikes, Big Dreams

Photography and writing
By Kenedy Rae | May 2025

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A Moment That Stole the Show

In the middle of a stadium built for legends, something quieter — but no less electric — unfolded.

They were tiny. Their helmets bobbled slightly under the weight. But when the gate dropped for the KTM Juniors at Supercross Denver, the energy in the air was massive.

These kids weren’t racing for championships. They weren’t chasing factory contracts. They were racing for something purer: the thrill of the track, the chance to ride in the same dirt as their heroes, and the memory of a lifetime.

A spark. A memory. A moment that will live far beyond the night.

One by one, the kids rolled out from the tunnel at Supercross Denver 2025, with help from their parents pushing them along, the crowd erupting with a cheer that didn’t care about age, points, or podiums. The crowd cheered just as loud for a 7-year-old on a 50cc as they did for a main event holeshot. Whether they came from across the ocean or right here in Colorado, they were met with the same thunderous welcome — as if the entire stadium understood the weight of this moment for a 7-year-old in an orange jersey. There was a nervous calm on their little faces — you could feel it from the sidelines. You could feel their parents holding their breath behind the gates, trying to act cool but vibrating with pride.

I watched one rider’s mom wipe his visor and adjust his chest protector, trying to hold back tears while telling him to have fun out there. Another kid sat quietly in staging, eyes locked on the tunnel ahead, gripping his bars with a focus that belonged on a pro circuit race. The nerves, the joy, the pride—it was all out in the open, raw and unfiltered.

And then the bikes fired up.

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The Gate Drops, and Pure Chaos Follows

That signature buzz of the KTM electric mini-bikes echoed off the stadium walls. The whole scene shifted: a line of tiny warriors focused and ready. Flags waved. The gate dropped.

Beautiful, unforgettable chaos.

Tiny bikes stormed into turn one with more commitment than some seasoned racers. A blur of orange jerseys and wobbly turns and one or two little riders who got stuck, then unstuck, then roared on like nothing happened. There were high fives from track workers, arms raised in triumph at the finish line, and parents rushing in like pit crews made of love and adrenaline.

As they ripped across the dirt, navigating the same track as their heroes, the grandstands roared in support. These kids weren’t just participating — they were performing.

You could feel the crowd shift from polite interest to full-blown investment, cheering on every overtake, every tiny jump, every rider who got up and kept going.

This is what Supercross is built on.

Not just the veterans and the champions. But the kids who show up wide-eyed and leave with a spark in their chest. The ones who might hang that jersey on their wall forever — or better yet, show up again in ten years, lining up in the 250 class, still chasing that same feeling.

It was a race, yes — but it was more than that. It was a glimpse into the soul of motocross.

I’m grateful I was there to witness it and to remind myself why I fell in love with this sport in the first place.

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Personalities as Big as the Stadium

This year’s KTM Juniors lineup brought personalities as big as the stadium itself. They were introduced one by one — little riders from all over the world. New Zealand. Arizona. Right here in Colorado. They weren’t just mini racers in gear; they were characters, stealing the show before the gate even dropped. As their names were announced, they sprinted out, hitting the griddy as fast as their little arms and legs could go. One kid did the worm in the middle of the stadium floor while the crowd went absolutely wild, igniting laughter and cheers from the crowd. I could see their parents bringing a palm to their reddening face, shaking their head and laughing — equal parts embarrassment, happiness, and pride. It was hilarious. It was adorable. And honestly? Chase Sexton might want to take notes.

But amid the fun was a moment that hit deeper.

It was a moment of levity and charm that reminded everyone in the stadium what Supercross is really about: community, fun, and a fearless passion.

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A Hometown Hero: Kynlee Paulsen

But then, something emotional happened — Kynlee Paulsen, running the 11 plate, was introduced. A hometown rider from Colorado. When her name echoed through the stadium speakers, the cheer was unmistakable — louder, longer, full of pride. As she lapped the track during the race, that support followed her like a tailwind. You could feel the whole stadium pulling for her. It wasn’t just about winning. It was about being seen. Celebrated. As she crossed the finish line, you would’ve thought the Nuggets had won the Playoffs (even though they definitely did not.) It was beautiful.

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More Than a Race

From my spot on the sidelines, I felt something shift. Between the lens clicks and the cheers, I wasn’t just documenting a race. I was witnessing memories being made. Moms wiping visors with teary eyes. Young spectators inspired, jumping, and waving signs from the stands. Tiny boots kicking through the dirt like they were built for it. KTM Juniors got two chances to practice during qualifying, then their race ran just before the night’s main events. But they weren’t just a warm-up act.

They’re the future of the sport.

Some of these kids traveled across the country. A few crossed oceans. They missed school, packed up their tiny gear bags, and flew into Denver not for trophies or TV time, but for something much bigger: the chance to ride on the same dirt as those they look up to. They came to chase a feeling — the feeling that maybe, just maybe, they belong here. And judging by the crowd’s reaction, they absolutely do.

These were moments that won’t show up on a results sheet, but they’ll live forever in family photo albums, in stories told around dinner tables, and maybe, in the future interviews of a rider who remembers this as the day it all became real.

And for a few precious laps, we all remembered why we fell in love with Supercross in the first place — because once upon a time, all the big names out there today were just kids, hoping to hear the roar of a crowd with their name in the spotlight.

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The Future Is in Good Hands

KTM Juniors aren’t just the opening act. They’re the heart of the show.

They remind us that Supercross isn’t only about lap times or contracts. It’s about the kid who hangs a muddy jersey on their bedroom wall and dreams a little bigger because of it. It’s about families that sacrifice for a few laps under stadium lights. And it’s about a sport that, at its core, is built on courage, community, and the belief that even the smallest riders deserve the biggest stage.

And a promise — that the future of Supercross is in good hands.

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By Kenedy Rae
Founder & Photographer, KRX Media

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Previous Post

← Qualifying at Supercross Denver 2025
Behind-the-scenes access, factory teams rolling in, first looks at the track, and the calm before the race day storm. [Read the full recap →]