RISQ Racing / navigator
100 miles per hour, wide open.
I navigate for Kaden Wells of RISQ Racing in a Can-Am Maverick R — reading terrain notes at speed across the Baja Peninsula and the southwestern United States.
6x
RISQ Racing champions
3x
Champion, personally
2025
Mary McGee award, NORRA 500
#2935
Can-Am Maverick R
The team
I navigate for my husband Kaden Wells, who drives — a partnership built on trust at speed, in terrain where a missed call costs more than a race. Together, RISQ Racing has claimed six championship titles.
I joined RISQ Racing in March 2022 at the Mint 400 and have been in the car for every championship since — three of them personally, including back-to-back UTV Overall titles. The one exception is the 2024 Baja 1000, which I sat out while finishing my PA program — Kaden ran that one solo. In 2025, I also personally received the Mary McGee award at the NORRA 500.
But the two of us in the car are the smallest part of it. RISQ Racing is a Wells family team. Kaden's parents, Travis and Libby, own it: Travis is our lead mechanic and Libby is our team manager. Kaden and Travis build our race cars themselves, start to finish, in our own shop. The one exception is the lower frame of our Maverick R, which was built by Lonestar. Kaden's brother Corbin handles our wraps and graphics through Union Graphic Co.
Racing runs in my family too. My father, Dan Cornwell, raced off-road through the 1970s and 80s and later served as a SCORE tech director — the standard I grew up chasing. And my mom is our biggest supporter: she watches the livestream from start to finish at home, every race, from the start line to the checkered flag.
Then there's the crew. Brad Wittbeck, Garison Callaway, Johnathon Atondo with his friends and family, and Edwin Reyes and his family (we really are a family team) are only a few of the people who make a race weekend possible. A finish-line photo shows two people in a car, but it takes a village far bigger than I could name in one paragraph, and we couldn't do any of it without them.
2026 race calendar
Watch the race live
When we're on course, the Starstream feed plays right here. Check back on race weekends.
why I race
Controlled chaos, in perspective.
I recently came across an interview with Alex Honnold that really resonated with me. He talked about how, because modern life is so constantly comfortable, most of us never face real life-or-death situations. Without that relativity, our brains start manufacturing "fake fears" — we end up stressing over minor things, like missing a flight or standing in a long line.
I've struggled with anxiety, so I know that nagging fear and the spiral of "what if" thinking well. But I also like to think I'm relatively calm in actual chaos. Off-road racing is that controlled chaos for me — it teaches my body where the real line is, and it puts everyday stress into perspective.
A good example: the 2024 Baja 500. We broke two shocks with about half the race still ahead of us, through some genuinely rough sections, running untuned stock donor shocks in the rear. It was getting dark. I had that chest and pec pain that only racers understand, and there was an inner voice saying, this is so stupid, I want out of this car, I hate this sport.
Then something shifted. I looked over at Kaden, just as exhausted as I was, and thought — I have to change my attitude, because even though this sucks, staying positive and having fun will make it easier for both of us. So I did. We finished the race and survived it. It wasn't our best result, but I learned a lot about myself out there.
My day-to-day life is rarely as physically, mentally, or emotionally demanding as ten-plus hours in a race car. If I choose to do that voluntarily, and genuinely enjoy it, then everyday life should be something I can face head-on.
GRIT. ACCOUNTABILITY.
From the race line
#risqracing on Instagram →Our partners
The brands behind the build
Racing in Baja breaks things. These partners make sure what's under the car holds up for well over 1000 miles, and we only run products we'd trust ourselves.