🏍️ The world's best-selling motor vehicle isn't a Toyota, a Ford, or a Volkswagen. It's a motorcycle — the Honda Super Cub. Over 110 million produced. It all started with one instruction from founder Soichiro Honda: "Build a bike that a soba delivery boy can ride with one hand." Why has this humble little motorcycle conquered 160+ countries?
1958: It All Started with a Noodle Delivery Boy
The Honda Super Cub was born in 1958, just as Japan was entering its era of rapid economic growth.
Soichiro Honda and his business partner Takeo Fujisawa had just returned from a trip to Europe. In Germany, they noticed small mopeds were everywhere — ordinary people used them as daily transportation. The pair returned to Japan with a conviction: they would build an entirely new kind of vehicle suited to Japanese roads and Japanese life.
The concept they gave their engineering team was brilliantly specific:
"A bike that a soba delivery boy can ride with one hand."
In Japan, soba (buckwheat noodle) shops are a traditional fast-food staple — think of them as Japan's version of pizza delivery. Delivery workers would balance a tall stack of noodle bowls in one hand while steering through narrow alleyways with the other. This everyday scene became the starting point for everything the Super Cub would become.
From this concept, the team established four non-negotiable requirements:
- A quiet, fuel-efficient 4-stroke engine — The dominant 2-stroke engines of the era were cheap but came with noise, white exhaust smoke, and the hassle of mixing oil with gasoline
- A body design easy for anyone to mount and dismount — Including women wearing skirts, achieved through a revolutionary "step-through" frame
- A transmission that doesn't require clutch operation — The automatic centrifugal clutch freed the rider's left hand entirely
- A friendly, timeless design — A utilitarian vehicle that was also beautiful
These four pillars have defined every Super Cub for nearly seven decades.
The "Indestructible" Legend
If there's one word that defines the Super Cub worldwide, it's indestructible.
A famous British TV show put the Super Cub through extreme torture tests: replacing engine oil with cooking oil (tempura frying oil, to be exact), throwing it down a flight of stairs, dropping it from the roof of a building, and even submerging it in the ocean. Each time, the engine fired up again. These weren't special effects — they were filmed live on camera.
This reliability traces back to the original C100 model.
At the time, most small-displacement motorcycles used inexpensive 2-stroke engines. But Soichiro Honda deliberately chose a costlier air-cooled 4-stroke OHV engine. His reasoning was straightforward: reduce the burden on the user. Two-stroke engines required riders to manually mix oil with gasoline, carried a higher risk of engine seizure, and produced unavoidable noise and smoke. Honda eliminated all of these problems by choosing the superior — but more expensive — engine type.
This obsession with durability continues in modern Super Cubs. A technology called "Spiny Sleeve" creates microscopic protrusions on the cylinder's outer wall to improve heat dissipation and maintain perfect roundness. It's a detail no rider will ever see — and that's precisely the point. Honda's philosophy is to pour craftsmanship into the parts that are invisible.
Going Global — Two Very Different Stories from America and Vietnam
The Super Cub went international remarkably quickly.
The American Story: Changing a Nation's Image of Motorcycles
In 1959, just one year after its Japanese debut, the Super Cub crossed the Pacific. It went on sale in America for just $295 (about $3,100 in today's dollars). But this was a country where "motorcycle" meant Harley-Davidson — big, loud, and associated with leather-clad rebels. A tiny 50cc step-through looked like a toy.
Everything changed in 1963 with one of the most famous advertising campaigns in history: "You meet the nicest people on a Honda."
The concept originated from a UCLA student named Mike Curb, who created it as a class assignment. Ad agency Grey Advertising purchased the rights and pitched it to Honda. The campaign shattered the American stereotype that motorcycles were only for tough guys. The ads showed housewives, college students, businessmen — ordinary, respectable people — all riding Hondas.
The results were staggering. Over 100,000 Hondas sold in 1963 alone, and by 1964, Honda commanded more than 50% of the U.S. motorcycle market. The Beach Boys' 1964 hit "Little Honda" further fueled the craze, and it became a social phenomenon for parents to give Super Cubs as Christmas presents to their teenagers.
The Vietnamese Story: When a Brand Becomes a Language
Vietnam's relationship with the Super Cub tells a completely different story.
In the late 1960s, the U.S. military brought over 20,000 Super Cubs to South Vietnam. Between 1967 and 1969, approximately 750,000 Honda motorcycles entered the country. After the fall of Saigon in 1975, countless abandoned Super Cubs were adopted by locals. Even during the U.S. trade embargo, Vietnamese people kept their Cubs running through ingenious repairs, local parts, and gray-market imports.
The result? In Vietnam, people began calling all motorcycles "Honda" — regardless of the actual manufacturer. It's similar to how Americans might say "Xerox" when they mean any photocopier, or "Band-Aid" for any adhesive bandage. The Super Cub didn't just enter Vietnamese life — it became Vietnamese life.
In America, the Super Cub became a symbol of leisure and lifestyle. In Vietnam, it became a symbol of survival and daily necessity. Two completely different cultures, one motorcycle.
When a Shape Becomes a Brand
In 2014, the Super Cub achieved something unprecedented: its body shape was registered as a three-dimensional trademark in Japan — the first vehicle ever to receive this distinction.
A three-dimensional trademark means that the shape itself — not a logo or name — is legally recognized as a brand. Think of the Coca-Cola bottle. The Super Cub now stands alongside it. Anyone who sees that distinctive step-through silhouette, the leg shield, the curved lines, instantly knows: "That's a Cub." This universal recognition, maintained consistently for over half a century, earned it this extraordinary legal status.
Honda's corporate philosophy rests on two pillars: Ningen Soncho (Respect for the Individual) and the Three Joys — the joy of buying, the joy of selling, and the joy of creating. The Super Cub is perhaps the purest, longest-running embodiment of these principles.
Beyond 100 Million
The Super Cub series is currently manufactured at 10 plants across 9 countries and sold in over 160 nations. Cumulative production has surpassed 110 million units.
Consider that number from another angle. Earth's population is roughly 8 billion. If each Super Cub serves a family of several people, then a measurable percentage of humanity has ridden a Super Cub at some point. Not a bus. Not a train. A single personal vehicle — and it's reached that scale.
In Japan, tightened emissions regulations in 2025 will end production of the 50cc model. But the 110cc version continues, and the Super Cub's story is far from over. The journey that began with a soba delivery boy is still going.
In Japan, the Super Cub is more than just a motorcycle — it's seen as a symbol of monozukuri (the Japanese philosophy of meticulous craftsmanship). Its unbreakable reliability, its accessibility to anyone, and a design that hasn't fundamentally changed in decades all contribute to its almost legendary status. Does your country have a similar "national vehicle" or an industrial product that has been loved across generations? We'd love to hear your story.
References
- https://global.honda/en/Cub/history/stories/special-edition/
- https://global.honda/jp/news/2017/c171019a.html
- https://www.nippon.com/ja/japan-topics/g02472/
- https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Honda_Super_Cub
- https://hondanews.com/en-US/powersports/releases/release-e888887b6471c0aba407829ba7089f92-2024-honda-super-cub-c125-features-benefits
Reactions in Japan
I rode a Cub every morning at 4 AM for newspaper delivery. Rain or snow, it never once stalled. That wasn't a machine — it was a partner.
100 million units is an incomprehensible number. iPhone sales are about 2.5 billion, but 100 million for a motorcycle? That's in a different dimension.
The fact that all motorcycles in Vietnam are called 'Honda' — as a Japanese person, that's genuinely impressive. When your brand name becomes a common noun, that's real penetration.
Even though ending 50cc production is inevitable, it's still sad. Seeing those red postal delivery Cubs always gave me a sense of comfort somehow.
The 'soba delivery boy riding one-handed' concept is genius even by today's standards. Reverse-engineering a product from specific real-life user scenarios — that's the essence of Honda.
Honestly, I used to think Cubs were uncool. But after seeing photos of people camping with the CT125 Hunter Cub, my impression completely changed. Now I want one badly.
Choosing 4-stroke over 2-stroke was a remarkable decision. Prioritizing user experience regardless of cost — that might be exactly the perspective today's startups are missing.
My grandpa used to ride his Cub to the field every day. After he passed, it's still sitting in the garage. Sometimes I start the engine and it fires right up. Makes me tear up.
3D trademark means it's in the same category as the Coca-Cola bottle? A motorcycle's shape becoming a brand in itself — yeah, only the Cub could pull that off.
Japanese engineering is undeniably impressive, but honestly, I'm worried about how long the Cub's engine technology can stay relevant in the wave of electrification.
Fujisawa said 'we'll sell 30,000 a month' when total domestic motorcycle sales were only 40,000 per month. That's insane confidence. And reality exceeded even that.
When I worked as a motorcycle courier, the big bikes would break down but the Cub never did. I remember a senior colleague saying 'The Cub isn't a tool — it's infrastructure.'
Apparently there are actual high school girls who fell in love with Cubs after watching the anime 'Super Cub.' Honda probably never imagined their 70-year-old design philosophy being re-evaluated through anime.
100 million is amazing, but let's not forget Chinese Cub copies. If you include counterfeits, there are probably way more running in developing countries.
Honda's motorcycle division stays stable even amid current management challenges, thanks to the Cub. With their EV strategy stumbling in the car segment, you really appreciate what an asset the Cub is.
The soba shop in my neighborhood still delivers on a Cub. They have options like e-bikes but say 'the Cub is the best.' I was moved seeing it used exactly as originally designed.
I'm Vietnamese. As the article says, we really do call all motorbikes 'Honda.' My grandmother's Cub is from the 1970s and she still rides it to the market every day. Is there any other bike that runs for 50+ years?
From California. I still have photos of my dad riding a Super Cub in the '60s. The 'You meet the nicest people on a Honda' campaign belongs in advertising textbooks. Without it, American motorcycle culture would look completely different.
In Thailand, the 'Dream' (local name for Super Cub) is the lifeline of rural communities. It carries rice, takes kids to school, goes to hospitals. One bike covers all transportation for a family. Along with Toyota pickups, it's one of two Japanese products that support Thai life.
The Top Gear episode where they tried to destroy a Cub is legendary. When it started after being dropped from a building and submerged in the sea — that was the ultimate tribute to Japanese engineering.
As a German engineer, the choice of a 4-stroke engine was technically highly rational. But what's even more remarkable is that the fundamental engine design philosophy hasn't changed in over 65 years. German car makers don't have this consistency.
In India, the Hero Splendor plays a similar role, but hasn't achieved the same cultural impact as the Cub. It's no exaggeration to say Honda's technology transfer created India's entire motorcycle industry.
In Brazil, the 'Biz' — a Cub derivative — is incredibly popular. Delivery workers, students, housewives — everyone rides one. The Honda factory in Manaus is right in the middle of the Amazon, which is pretty wild.
From a marketing perspective, 'You meet the nicest people on a Honda' was one of the first ads to sell a lifestyle rather than product features. Honda did this more than 30 years before Apple's 'Think Different.'
As a Korean, I'll be honest — this culture of 'polishing one product for decades' is Japan's strength. Korea is good at creating new things, but we should learn from Japan's patience in protecting and refining one thing.
In Nigeria, Chinese copies of the Cub are everywhere. Real Hondas last longer but cost more. Honestly, even the copies are a godsend for many Africans. It shows how universal the 'shape' Honda created really is.
In France, the Citroën 2CV held a similar place — cheap, tough, anyone could drive it. But the 2CV stopped production. The Cub is still being made because Honda kept evolving it. It looks 'unchanged' but is actually constantly improving.
As an American Gen Z-er, I recently bought a Super Cub C125. For urban mobility, there's nothing better. Gas costs about $15 a month. My parents' SUV looks ridiculous in comparison.
In rural Mexico, Cub-type bikes are still essential for farming. But electric bikes are growing lately. What will the Cub's next 100 years look like? I'd buy an electric Cub though.
In Taiwan, Gogoro electric scooters are spreading fast, but Cub-types are still active in mountainous areas. Where charging infrastructure can't reach, an 'indestructible gasoline engine' is still the ultimate technology.
The only way to survive Cairo traffic is on a Cub. A commute that takes an hour by car takes 15 minutes. And the simplicity that lets any street corner mechanic fix it — that's its greatest weapon.