What is Pocketbike Racing?

What is Pocketbike racing? Take a crash course introduction with one author who wonders what happened to the 1970s Pocketbike racers of yesterday.

As comedian Steve Martin would say during his stand-up skits, “Hey, let’s get small …” In this case we’re going to shrink into the world of Pocketbike racing, a form of powersport (treating the term loosely here) competition that originated in Asia in the 1970s. The sport was especially popular in Japan, and by 1982 there were more than 100 mini-size race tracks scattered about the island nation. About that same time, Pocketbike racing reached America. It gained a foothold in Southern California when the United States Pocket Bike Association formed in Gardena. Most of the first races were run at a small serpentine race course built for junior-size Malibu Grand Prix race cars adjacent to Ascot Raceway. (MGP was a business that rented the cars to customers for beat-the-clock timed solo laps).

Standing about knee high to most adults, a typical Pocketbike looked for all the world like a mini road racer. The frame had no suspension other than the cute little air-filled donut tires connecting the bike to the pavement. Engines were single-cylinder 2-strokes, usually displacing less than 50cc and good for about 1.5 to several horsepower. No need for shifting gears, either. The direct-drive centrifugal clutch allowed for twist-and-go riding, making the bikes especially popular among youths. In fact, racing was intended for children of all ages, and as you might guess Peter Pan adults (read: dads) often joined the action, too (for safety’s sake, classes were segregated to the respective age groups). And speaking of Peter Pan adults, as Sport Editor for Cycle Guide magazine at the time, I was invited to sample a Pocketbike for a magazine “Track Test” article. My mount was a Dandy MR30, a thundering beast powered by a vicious 2-stroke engine that belched 1.98 horsepower, translating to a top speed of 35 OMG mph.

Odds favored me crashing the bike, which I did — its short wheelbase and twitchy steering behavior amplified the affects of its 155-pound payload; that combination superseded my reaction time when a minor bump in the track’s otherwise smooth pavement prompted a low-speed wobble. As my body slowly settled into, as I reported, “ground, sky, ground, sky, ground sky” acrobatics, I couldn’t help but laugh at the chain of events.