Malaysian Cub Prix Final Round In Penang
Through the Lens at the Final Round of the Malaysian Cub Prix in Batu Kawan: A Photographer’s Rain-Soaked Adventure
As a motorcycle photographer based in Malaysia, I’ve seen my fair share of thrilling races, unpredictable weather, and grassroots motorsport glory. But nothing quite prepared me for the sheer spectacle that was the final round of the 2024 Malaysian Cub Prix series. Held in Batu Kawan, Penang, this event is a celebration of speed, skill, and raw passion. It’s Malaysian grassroots racing at its absolute finest, where family teams and determined riders showcase what they’re made of.
Armed with my camera, a rain poncho, and an optimistic spirit, I set out to capture the drama, the chaos, and the beauty of this iconic event. Spoiler alert: things got wet. Really, really wet.
Batu Kawan: A Home for Racing Dreams
Nestled in Penang, Batu Kawan is better known for its industrial parks and shopping malls than its racing circuits. But when the Malaysian Cub Prix comes to town, it transforms into a motorsport mecca. The temporary track layout weaves through the streets, creating a tight, twisty circuit that demands precision and bravery from the riders.
When I arrived on Saturday morning, the atmosphere was already electric. Riders and their families were setting up in the paddock, mechanics were busy fine-tuning bikes, and the smell of petrol and fried snacks filled the air. It was clear that this wasn’t just an event—it was a family affair.
Grassroots Racing: Where Family is Everything
One of the things I love most about the Malaysian Cub Prix is how deeply rooted it is in family. Many of the riders have their parents, siblings, or even grandparents supporting them in various roles—mechanics, managers, cooks, cheerleaders, you name it.
In one corner of the paddock, I saw a father meticulously adjusting the suspension on his son’s bike while the mother was preparing drinks for the crew. Just next door, a younger sister was wiping down her brother’s helmet with the precision of a seasoned pit crew member.
This family dynamic adds an extra layer of heart to the competition. It’s not just about winning; it’s about chasing dreams together.
Saturday Morning: Optimism and Overcast Skies
The morning began with overcast skies that felt more like a soft warning than a full-blown threat. I took the opportunity to scout the track, find good shooting angles, and chat with a few riders.
“Rain or shine, we’ll give it full gas,” said a CP150 rider, grinning as he adjusted his gloves. His confidence was infectious, but I couldn’t help glancing nervously at the darkening clouds overhead.
Saturday Afternoon: When the Skies Opened Up
Ah, Malaysian weather. If it’s not boiling hot, it’s torrential rain. And on this particular Saturday, we got the latter. By early afternoon, the heavens unleashed a deluge that turned the paddock into a waterpark and the track into a slip-and-slide.
Rain at a race event is both a blessing and a curse for a photographer. On one hand, it adds drama to your shots—spray flying off tires, reflections on the wet tarmac, and the sheer determination of riders battling the elements. On the other hand, it’s a logistical nightmare.
With my camera wrapped in a plastic bag and a rain poncho that made me look like a soggy superhero, I braved the downpour. The riders in the lower categories cautiously navigated the treacherous track, their bikes sliding and skimming through puddles. The CP125 and CP150 riders, however? They were having none of it.
These top-tier competitors went full throttle, rain be damned. Watching them carve through corners and blast down straights in those conditions was both thrilling and terrifying.
Photographing in the Rain: Lessons Learned
Photographing in a downpour is a unique challenge. Here’s what I learned that day:
Keep Your Gear Dry: I used a DIY rain cover made from a plastic bag and duct tape. Not the most glamorous solution, but it worked.
Find Shelter When You Can: I alternated between shooting in the rain and taking cover under tents or umbrellas.
Embrace the Chaos: Some of my favorite shots were taken during the worst of the rain—riders leaning into corners with water spraying dramatically from their tires.
The Heart of Grassroots Racing
The rain didn’t dampen the spirits of the teams or the crowd. Parents cheered on their kids, mechanics worked tirelessly between sessions, and fans huddled under umbrellas, still waving flags and shouting encouragement.
One of the most touching moments I captured was a father hugging his son after a race. The young rider had finished mid-pack, but the pride on his father’s face was unmistakable. This is what grassroots racing is all about—not just results, but the journey and the shared passion.
The CP125 and CP150 Categories: Full Gas and Fierce Competition
By the time the CP125 and CP150 riders took to the track, the rain had eased slightly, but the tarmac was still slick. These are the top-tier categories in the Malaysian Cub Prix, and the riders don’t hold back for a second.
Photographing these races was both exhilarating and exhausting. The speed, the aggression, and the sheer skill of the riders kept me on my toes. I captured wheel-to-wheel battles, daring overtakes, and one heart-stopping moment when a rider’s bike slid out, only for him to recover like a pro.
The Thrill of the Finish Line
The final races of the day were nothing short of spectacular. As the checkered flag waved, riders celebrated with fist pumps, wheelies, and triumphant screams into the wind. The crowd roared in approval, and I snapped away, capturing every moment of joy and relief.
One particular shot stood out to me—a CP150 rider crossing the finish line, water spraying from his tires, his face a mix of exhaustion and elation. It was the perfect encapsulation of the day: gritty, intense, and utterly unforgettable.
Reflections on a Rainy Adventure
As I packed up my gear and squelched back to my car, I couldn’t help but smile. Yes, the weather had been brutal, and yes, I was soaked to the bone. But the experience of photographing the final round of the Malaysian Cub Prix was worth every wet and muddy moment.
Grassroots racing like this isn’t just about the competition—it’s about community, family, and the relentless pursuit of dreams. It’s a reminder that passion and perseverance can shine through even the darkest rainclouds.
For a Malaysia-based motorcycle photographer, days like this are what make the job truly special. And as I drove away from Batu Kawan, with the sound of roaring engines still echoing in my ears, I couldn’t wait for the next race.
