Malaysian Cub Prix 2025 Round 2 - Sepang

Full Throttle at Sepang!

The Return of Cub Prix to Sepang Inter national Circuit. My Experience Covering Round 1 of the 2025 Malaysian Cub Prix. There’s something gloriously chaotic about a race weekend—early mornings, the scent of hot tarmac, and the unmistakable hum of 150cc four-stroke engines being flogged like they owe someone money. Covering Round 1 of the 2025 Malaysian Cub Prix at Sepang Circuit was everything I love about motorcycle culture in Malaysia: loud, gritty, and absolutely full of heart.

As a motorsport photographer and moto obsessive, it felt like the perfect way to kick off the racing year. Armed with my cameras, a few memory cards, and some questionable kopi, I dove into the madness. Now, for those who’ve not yet had the pleasure—Malaysia’s Cub Prix isn’t just a racing series. It’s a rite of passage. A proving ground for future MotoGP stars and local legends alike. While the global stage might be transfixed by factory teams and million-dollar bikes, the real soul of racing can be found right here, in the grassroots fury of Cub Prix. Round 1 at Sepang’s North Track came in swinging. A stacked paddock, new teams, familiar rivals, and riders as young as 13 barrelling into Turn 1 with the kind of fearless commitment that makes your throttle hand twitch. It wasn’t just racing—it was storytelling at 120 kilometres an hour.

Covering motorcycle racing at Cub Prix isn’t exactly a spa weekend. It’s sweat, sunburn, and snapping high-speed action while dodging rogue tire marbles. But it’s also ridiculously fun. I was shooting the whole event on my Canon R6 Mark II bodies with a mix of RF glass—quick autofocus, solid dynamic range, and fast enough to keep up with the chaos. The key is anticipating the move before it happens: brake markers, corner exits, body position. It’s a bit like chess at 1/1000s.

What makes Cub Prix photography so rewarding is the access. You’re in the thick of it—close to the action, right in the heart of the paddock, among the grease-stained mechanics and wide-eyed rookies. No PR walls. No exclusivity barriers. Just raw, unfiltered racing culture, up close and very personal. Let’s get this straight: these might be 150cc four-stroke underbones, but they’re tuned to within an inch of their lives. Lightweight frames, aggressive setups, and a grid full of hungry young riders equals bar-to-bar action from start to finish. Watching the CP150 class rip through Sepang’s tight corners is an education in bravery. There’s no traction control. No launch systems. Just pure rider talent and the occasional divine intervention. Racecraft is everything here—slipstream battles, late braking, defensive lines, and more elbows than an MMA cage.

One of the highlights? A last-lap battle in Race 2 where the lead changed three times in a single sector. I barely kept up with the action through my viewfinder. It was brilliant chaos—the sort of thing that makes you shout inside your helmet. What truly sets the Cub Prix apart isn’t just the racing—it’s the atmosphere. Families come out in droves. Fans drape themselves in team colours. The smell of satay and tyre rubber hangs in the air. It’s less of an event and more of a travelling moto festival with a distinctly Malaysian flavour. From veteran tuners to teenage rookies, the paddock is alive with passion. Mechanics argue over suspension settings with the intensity of F1 engineers. Riders pray over their handlebars. Grandparents cheer from behind pit barriers. It’s the people that make it magic. I spent half the day bouncing between the pit lane and food stalls, snapping everything from tire changes to fried keropok. It’s here that you realise the Cub Prix isn’t just a sport—it’s a community, stitched together by a shared love of speed, risk, and two wheels.

If you’re a motorsports photographer looking to break in, I can’t recommend local racing enough. It’ll teach you everything: how to track fast-moving subjects, shoot in tough light, compose in cramped spaces, and, most importantly, capture emotion.

What I learned (or relearned) at Sepang:

Always bring more batteries than you think you’ll need.
Move your feet. The best shots rarely happen from behind the barrier.
Chat with riders and crews—you’ll get access others won’t.
Sweat happens. Embrace it.
Shoot the people, not just the bikes.

This was just the beginning of a big year for Cheeky Moto. Between covering grassroots racing like the Malaysian Cub Prix, launching moto adventure tours across Malaysia and Thailand, and producing content for our YouTube and Instagram channels, there’s a lot happening behind the handlebars. But the mission remains the same: tell real stories from Southeast Asia’s motorcycle scene. Whether it’s a rookie racer fighting for their first podium or a group of weekend warriors taking on jungle trails, it’s all worth documenting. If you’re not already following @cheekymotomedia, you’re missing out on behind-the-scenes moto content, photography tips, and some delightfully cheeky commentary on the world of motorcycles.

Covering the 2025 Malaysian Cub Prix at Sepang reminded me why I love what I do. There’s something special about these race weekends. They’re raw, real, and packed with energy you just can’t fake. Four-stroke underbones might not sound glamorous to outsiders, but to us? They’re everything. They’re the beginning of dreams, the spark of careers, and the soundtrack of Sunday afternoons in Malaysia. If you get the chance, go experience a Cub Prix round in person. And if you see a sunburnt bloke with two cameras and a big grin, come say hi. Until the next flag drop,

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