It had been expected, but it is now official. Austin Forkner will not return to racing this season and has decided to retire from professional racing at just 27 years of age. It marks the end of a chapter for a rider who, ultimately, never managed to fully realise the immense potential he undoubtedly possessed.
After spending nine years with the Pro Circuit Kawasaki team—a partnership that brought multiple victories but was also plagued by an endless string of injuries and setbacks—Forkner eventually lost the confidence of Mitch Payton in 2024, the year he suffered his horrific crash at Arlington while leading the AMA Supercross East Coast championship.
What followed was an extremely difficult period, both physically and mentally. In addition to recovering from the injuries sustained in that crash, Forkner underwent brain surgery and later eye surgery. In 2025, he attempted to revive his career with Triumph. It was something of a partial comeback, as he managed to contest eight rounds of the East Coast Supercross championship—his longest uninterrupted run in the series in five years. However, the results fell well below his usual standards, with just three top-ten finishes in Supercross and a best outdoor finish of fifth at Washougal.
Retained by Triumph for the 2026 season, Forkner was originally due to contest the 250SX championship before being moved up to the 450 class to replace the injured Jordon Smith. Unfortunately, the same pattern repeated itself: crashes, injuries, missed races… before returning to the 250 class for the Pro Motocross Championship. He finished only 36th at Fox Raceway and 22nd at Hangtown before suffering another injury at Thunder Valley—the one that proved to be the final straw.
This time, Austin Forkner has decided to close the chapter on his racing career for good. He retires with 14 AMA championship race victories to his name.
In a lengthy video shared on his social media channels—transcribed below—Forkner explained why he made the decision to retire.
On his decision to retire
“I’ve decided to retire from racing. I actually made that decision about a week and a half ago. I know some of you were wondering why I wasn’t at RedBud. I’m done.
I wanted to explain the main reasons behind my decision, give you some insight into where my head is at and how I’ve thought through everything. It’s a huge decision, and I definitely didn’t make it lightly. I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about it. Honestly, it’s been on my mind for quite a while.
After my crash in Colorado, I just felt like the time had finally come for me to walk away.”
On his arm problems
“One of the biggest reasons is my arm. I hardly ever talk about it, but I’ve lost almost all of the muscle from the back of my shoulder all the way down to my hand. The problem started about four or five years ago. I’ve already had three surgeries. I’ve seen some of the best neurologists in the country. The most recent surgery was performed by the same surgeon who worked on Ken Roczen’s arm. But nothing has really improved.
At this point, I simply can’t hold onto the handlebars anymore. I don’t have the strength. I can’t even properly use my fingers. If I raise my arm, I can’t even move my fingers normally anymore. There’s just nothing left. And the worst part is that the doctors don’t even know what caused it.
I’ve seen the best neurologists in the country. Their answer was simple: ‘We don’t know.’ They don’t know what caused the problem. They don’t really know what’s wrong. Most importantly, they’ve told me it isn’t going to get better. I’m just going to continue losing muscle. Once a muscle has atrophied to a certain point, it either never comes back or it’s incredibly difficult to regain.
For the past five years I’ve undergone every possible scan and test to try and figure out what was happening and fix it. Nothing has changed. It’s now become so limiting that I simply can’t ride properly anymore. I can’t hit a whoop section with a finger on the clutch. I can’t keep a finger on the lever. Any sudden movement, any mistake or any handlebar deflection and my hand gets ripped off the bars.
That’s what happened in my crash at Dallas. It also happened this year at Houston. My hand simply came off the bars. Several of my crashes have happened because I literally can’t hold on tightly enough. In motocross, you’re constantly reacting to what’s happening. If you enter a corner and hit a bump, a rut changes, or another rider cuts across you, you have to react instantly. My arm no longer allows me to do that.
Every sharp movement of the bars, my body or the bike causes my hand to let go because I just don’t have enough strength anymore. It’s frustrating, but it’s reality. I’ve had to accept that over the last few years, especially after my latest surgery didn’t improve anything.
I’ve simply had to accept it and move on. But now it’s become serious enough that I’m making silly mistakes and crashing unnecessarily, with much bigger consequences than there should be, simply because I no longer have enough strength in that arm. That’s one of the biggest reasons behind my decision.”
On his Arlington crash in 2024
“I think it’s obvious to everyone that I’ve never been the same rider since my crash at Dallas. That crash absolutely broke my heart.
When you dedicate literally your entire life, your whole heart and all your energy to something, it’s incredibly hard to deal with. That’s exactly what racing has been for me. Yes, it’s a job—but it’s far more than just a job. It’s been my entire life since I was a little kid, and I’ve given it absolutely everything.
During the 2024 off-season I changed so many things. I’d come through several difficult seasons with a lot of injuries, and even when I was healthy, the results weren’t where I wanted them to be. At that time I was living full-time in California. I changed my strength coach, changed my riding coach and followed a completely different training programme than most riders. We stopped riding road bikes and abandoned many of the methods most professional riders use.
It was different. It was a gamble. But I felt like I had to change my habits if I wanted to improve. And it worked. I felt amazing going into the 2024 season. I was riding the best I’ve ever ridden. My level was incredible. I won Detroit—even though there was the first-turn pile-up—but what I showed at Dallas before my crash proves exactly what I’m talking about. I was riding unbelievably well.
I’ve always given everything before every season, but this time I genuinely felt ready. Then everything fell apart despite all my hard work. It was incredibly difficult to accept. It hurt my heart, my mind and my soul. I truly believed I’d done everything right and finally found the formula. It worked… for a while. That’s what makes it so frustrating.
So many things happened that night. My contact lens came out. I couldn’t see properly. My arm was too weak to hold on. It was a combination of several things. I found myself in exactly the same position as previous years: one of the fastest riders, capable of fighting for the championship, only to end up injured again and out for the remainder of the season.
It was incredibly hard. Ever since that day, I know I’ve never been the same rider. That’s just the reality. Deep down, I feel like that crash broke something inside me. I don’t think I’ve ever fully recovered from it, and I don’t think I ever completely will. Some things stay with you forever.”
Life after the crash and rebuilding
“After the accident, the scans revealed an arteriovenous malformation in my brain. I had surgery to remove it. Then Riley became pregnant. Then Atlas was born. Those four events happened in a specific order, and I’m a man of faith. I don’t really believe in coincidences. It all felt far too meaningful to be random.I genuinely believe it was God’s plan for my life.
Why? Because that brain malformation was only discovered because of the scans after my Dallas crash. That allowed me to have surgery and get it removed. Then my son came into my life. Anyone who’s a father will know exactly what I mean. Having a child changes everything. I love being a dad. I absolutely love it.
Continuing to risk everything now would almost feel like disrespecting the second chance God has given me. I truly believe I’ve been given a second chance at life. I’m convinced that without the Dallas crash, and considering the size of that malformation, I would have died before ever getting the chance to meet my son. I was told it was close to rupturing at any moment. Deep down, I believe motocross did what it was supposed to do for me. It’s difficult to explain, but I believe it was all meant to happen this way. Maybe I’m wrong, but that’s what I believe.
I also feel like racing has nothing left to give me. It’s already given me so much. It gave me a wonderful life. I’ve become the person I am today because of this sport and everything I’ve experienced—the highs and the lows. I’ve seen every side of racing and competition.”
The turning point and retirement
“All of that, combined with the fact that I wasn’t really enjoying racing anymore and was dealing with so much mentally, eventually made me question everything. I wasn’t fully present anymore. I wasn’t willing to take the risks needed to run at the front. It just wasn’t working anymore.
I know it’s time for me to stop. When I look back on my career, I’m proud of what I’ve achieved. I also know I had so much potential, and I probably never truly managed to show all of it.My career will always be one big question mark. ‘What if?’ ‘What could have happened?’
Thank you to everyone who supported me throughout my career. Thank you to all the fans and everyone I’ve met along the way. The conversations I’ve had at autograph signings and the direct messages I’ve received will probably be my most treasured memories.
Of course, winning races is incredible. But the truth is that people quickly forget victories. They move on. That’s also the brutal side of this sport. One day you’re at the top. Everyone is talking about you. You’re on the cover of magazines. Then suddenly you’re gone.
I now have a new purpose in life: to be a good father and a good husband. Those things matter more to me now. For my entire life, racing was my number one priority. It simply isn’t anymore. I don’t yet know exactly what comes next professionally. I’m still figuring that out and trying to make sense of the next chapter. Thank you, everyone.”
