My first bike - Honda MBX50 A758 TBP

A758 TBP

When I was a young teen, my world revolved around Star Wars. Lightsabers, spaceships, and distant galaxies filled my imagination — until the day my brother rolled up on a brand-new NS125F. Suddenly, the roar of a two-stroke engine was far more exciting than anything from a galaxy far, far away. Not long after, my dad started riding again, commuting to work on a Kawasaki Z250, and that sealed it — my fascination with motorbikes had truly begun.

At school, I even signed up for a “soft” subject called Road Traffic Studies. It sounded dull, but it turned out to be anything but. We learned to ride motorbikes, and the school had an incredible little fleet: a Suzuki FZ50, a Honda Camino, a Honda C50, and the absolute star of the show — a Honda MB50. That was the bike everyone wanted a go on.

As my 16th birthday approached — in December 1987 — I could hardly think of anything else. Soon, I’d be legally allowed to ride a 50cc moped, and I knew exactly which one I wanted: a Honda MBX50. It was the sleeker, sharper, and more grown-up successor to the MB50, and to me, it looked like a proper racing bike.

We eventually found one for sale in Eastleigh. My dad and I borrowed a truck and went to check it out. The moment I saw it, I was hooked. Registration A758 TBP — finished in black with a silver and red stripe — it looked perfect. The battery was flat, so we had to bump-start it, but it only had about 3,000 miles on the clock. I handed over around £275, and just like that, it was mine. We got it home, fitted a new battery, sorted the insurance, and before long I was flying down the road on my very first bike.

Being sixteen, I couldn’t help but make the bike more “sporty.” First, I removed the luggage rack and mirrors, then flipped the handlebars upside down for a more aggressive position. I also found a Lintek fiberglass belly pan at our local dealer, Rafferty Newman, which I think I paid about £20 for, plus some Honda NSR stickers for the fuel tank as a nod to my GP heroes.

One mod I frequently did was removing the exhaust baffle for a deeper sound—much to the annoyance of the local constabulary, which resulted in more than one document producer!

The MBX50 was a great little machine. Like all 50cc bikes, it was legally restricted to about 30 mph, though mine could stretch to 36 if I tucked in properly. Off the line, it wasn’t the fastest — a Vision 50 could still out-accelerate it — but I didn’t care. I even fitted a slightly larger front sprocket to squeeze out a bit more top speed, hitting a proud 40 mph on the clock. When you’re 16, that extra 4 mph feels like pure freedom.

And that’s exactly what the MBX gave me — freedom. Real, tangible freedom. It wasn’t just about getting from A to B; it was the feeling of being part of something bigger. My friends and I formed a little gang of riders, a swarm of buzzing 50s tearing through the suburbs. There must have been fifteen of us sometimes, all in a line, engines singing in unison. It was chaotic, noisy, and absolutely brilliant.

Those rides were pure magic — cold air in your face, two-stroke smoke in the air, and the sense that the world was suddenly a lot bigger than it used to be.

As my 17th birthday loomed, I only had one thing on my mind: trading up to the mighty MBX80.

16year olds modifications, rack and mirrors delete, drop bars and belly pan!

According to the DVLA the last log book change was 31st October 1996 and it went un-taxed on 17th June 1997, if its in the back of your garage or in your shed gathering dust and rust please contact me I would love to get it back!