BMW R1250GS at sunset on an open road

Our Story

The ride that changed everything

Kaveh Fanian GAICD

Founder and Managing Director

Founder beside a loaded BMW R1250GS before the ride

In 2025, I was between roles.

I had spent almost 30 years in the corporate world, across engineering, technology, cyber security and business leadership. I had worked hard, built a career I was proud of, and suddenly found myself with something senior executives rarely have enough of:

Time.

So I decided to use it properly.

I got on my BMW R1250GS and set off on a solo ride around Australia.

The plan was simple. Spend a few weeks on the road. Ride. Explore. Clear my head. See parts of this extraordinary country I had never seen before.

Three weeks into my journey, and with about 8,000 kilometres already behind me, I was riding through Mount Isa when I passed the local cemetery. At that very moment, I happened to be listening to a podcast featuring American motivational speaker Les Brown.

The timing could not have been more extraordinary.

As I rode past the cemetery, Les Brown was talking about why he believed the graveyard was the richest place on earth.

It was where hopes and dreams had never been fulfilled.

Books had never been written.

Songs had never been sung.

Inventions had never been shared.

And ideas and dreams had been taken to the grave because someone had been too afraid to take that first step.

I was literally riding past a cemetery as I heard those words.

I stopped.

And I started thinking.

Not about my corporate career. But about motorcycles. About riding. And about a question that had frustrated me for years.

Loaded BMW R1250GS parked beside a historic wagon during the founder's ride

Why hasn't somebody built this for us?

I thought about how unnecessarily complicated something as simple as organising a motorcycle ride had become.

We used Facebook to find riders and organise events. Messenger or WhatsApp for conversations. Google Maps for routes. GPX files for sharing them. Then another application for navigation.

We had all this extraordinary technology around us, yet motorcyclists were still stitching together multiple applications and services that were never designed for the way we ride.

Even meeting another rider was unnecessarily complicated.

You could spend a day riding with someone, get along brilliantly and decide you'd like to ride together again.

But staying connected often meant adding each other on Facebook.

Suddenly, someone you had met because of motorcycles could see your family, your friends, your photographs and your personal life.

Why should connecting with another rider require sharing everything else about yourself?

Then there was organising the ride itself.

The meeting points. The route. Fuel stops. Coffee stops. Accommodation. Questions. Updates. Changes. Endless messages backwards and forwards.

And for adventure riders, it became even more complicated.

We don't simply want to know how to get from A to B.

We care about the road between them.

We might want the twistiest road, the dirt road, the fire trail or simply the road that looks interesting.

Sometimes the road is the reason we're going.

Yet we were trying to make general purpose technology work for a community with very different needs.

Sitting there in Mount Isa, I found myself asking the question I had asked so many times before:

In this day and age, why hasn't somebody built a platform specifically for motorcyclists?

And then the question changed.

Why haven't I?

That was the moment.

I had spent decades working with technology, engineering and business.

I understood the problem because I had lived it as a rider.

And I knew exactly what I wished existed.

So I picked up the phone and called my wife, AKA, "the real boss!"

I told her what I wanted to do and asked for her blessing to take that risk.

Because by then I had realised something.

Maybe it would work.

Maybe it wouldn't.

But I also thought about my children and what I wanted them to learn from me.

I couldn't tell them to follow their dreams, take chances and have the courage to try if, when my own opportunity came, I was too afraid to take that first step.

Whatever the outcome, I wanted them to know that their dad had an idea he believed in, took the risk and gave it everything he had.

And one day, when my time comes, whether LetsRide succeeds or fails, I want them to be able to say:

I tried and gave it my all.

So I changed the plan.

I was supposed to continue into the Northern Territory, visit Uluru and ride on to Darwin.

I never crossed the border.

I turned the GS around and rode home.

To this day, I still haven't made it to Uluru or Darwin.

And I still haven't seen those wild camels I was hoping to find.

Instead, I came home and founded Motosoft.

Loaded BMW R1250GS at the Victoria border on the road home

From a dream to LetsRide

I built the first MVP and put it in front of a few riding friends.

I needed to know whether this was simply something I wanted, or whether other riders immediately understood what I had been imagining.

They did.

And that idea became LetsRide.

Loaded BMW R1250GS beside the ocean

Since then, together with a team of engineers from UNSW, we have been building LetsRide from the ground up around one fundamental idea:

What would a digital platform look like if it were designed by riders, for riders?

A place where you can meet another rider and stay connected without opening your personal life to them.

Where you can discover rides or organise your own.

Where a private ride really can remain between the people you choose to invite.

Where the route, riders, conversations, meeting points and updates belong together.

Where changes don't disappear amongst hundreds of messages.

Where motorcycle route planning understands that the fastest way isn't necessarily the best way.

And where, when the day finally arrives, you can get on your motorcycle, open the ride and simply ride.

We are still building it.

We are still learning.

And the riders using LetsRide are helping us shape what it becomes.

But one thing has never changed.

Motosoft wasn't created because I wanted to start another technology company.

LetsRide wasn't created because the world needed another app.

They exist because I love motorcycles. I love riding. And I believed motorcyclists deserved something built specifically for us.

That belief was strong enough to make me turn around in Mount Isa and bet my savings on it.

Whatever happens from here, I know one thing.

I tried.

And we are going to keep trying to build something worthy of the community that inspired it.

This is why Motosoft exists.

This is why LetsRide exists.

For the love of motorcycles.

For the love of riding.