While tooling around town on my 1971 Honda Trail 70, I get a lot of comments. Folks praise the sight of the vintage bike, usually parked at the coffee shop or while filling up at gas stations. In traffic, I get a lot of thumbs-ups. People will often roll their windows down just to let me know they “used to have one of those.”
It never gets old.
And that’s one of the universal truths of motorcycling — the “I used to have one” comments from strangers, especially when riding a vintage motorcycle. Nearly every time I stop, folks will seemingly appear from the ether just to strike up an unsolicited conversation and tell me about all the motorcycles they’ve ever had. OK, so maybe sometimes it gets old .…
With the Trail 70 specifically, I get a lot of “Hey, that’s the bike I learned how to ride on!” Delivered by just about anybody and everybody, it’s usually from people who were young in the 1970s or ’80s — men and women alike. Remember, “You meet the nicest people on a Honda.” And that sentiment is part of what sold me on vintage Hondas when I started riding. It was the 2010s, I was an artsy film-school kid — of course I wanted an old CB750. But I came to truly appreciate the brand after discovering Honda’s old advertisements and posters.
Those vintage ads offer scenes of every sort. Men, women, even children aboard tiny Hondas. Bikes parked next to campfires or strapped to the backs of RVs. They’re ridden through woods and across farms, every rider grinning from ear to ear. It’s hard to believe these are advertisements and not family vacation photos.
In fact, the CT70 was an incredibly pivotal motorcycle upon its introduction. It democratized motorcycling, changing who bikes were for, where you could go, and what it meant to ride.
The bikes were approachable — friendly looking, cute even. They had passenger pegs and were street legal. The CT70 proved mini-bikes weren’t just toys, but machines that could be dependable, reliable and legitimate options for real riders. So legitimate, in fact, that Honda continued developing other small-displacement motorcycles like the Monkey, the Z50, and later, the Grom (and many others).
Yes, I enjoy hearing people share their memories of a Trail 70 or something similar. I almost expect it now while out riding. It’s proof of just how popular and instrumental these motorcycles were. That, or sometimes I get, “What the heck is that thing?” To the untrained eye, a 31-year-old man on a tiny blue “scooter” is an odd sight. Younger generations may not realize what it is or its significance. But as with all great things, every generation eventually comes around—to realize and appreciate them. Certain things in life are timeless. I’d argue the CT70 (insert nearly any vintage motorcycle here) is one of them. What also helps is that Honda, as a brand, recognizes this timelessness and continues to emphasize its heritage. Because of that, we now have a modern interpretation of one.
Say “sit, stay, — good boy” to the 2025 Honda Dax ST125. Dax for Dachshund, of course. Just look at the factory logo — seriously. It’s a wiener dog with wheels for legs, wearing goggles and a helmet. Incredible.
At a glance, the 2025 Honda Dax ST125 and the 1972 Honda Trail CT70 could be mistaken for bikes separated only by patina and time. They’re more than five decades apart in production, yet the soul has been carefully captured and evolved. The proportions are nearly identical: the pressed-steel backbone frame, the squat stance, the balloon tires. Approachable and unintimidating, the ST125 captures the same spirit the CT70 did — sparking curiosity and inviting you to hop on and ride. They greet you with the same goofy silhouette and the same simple promise of fun.
The ST125 is the modern iteration of a timeless machine Honda created long ago. While it isn’t a “serious-looking” motorcycle — which is entirely the point — it should be taken seriously. This is the original fun-spirit, evolved. Underneath the retro silhouette is contemporary hardware: fuel injection, modern brakes with ABS, LED lighting, and a refined 125cc engine that’s smooth, quiet, and surprisingly capable. It’s a bike you can hop on without thinking whether you’re commuting across town, rolling through the neighborhood for coffee or taking the long way home. And yes, it still has passenger pegs, so bring a friend.
Of course, the ride experience is great. Just like the ads from decades ago, I found it hard not to smile while riding. It was simply fun. I personally get a hoot out of tiny bikes, though I recognize they’re not for everyone. You do have to go in with the right mindset. There’s something joyful about buzzing around the city at the top of the rev range, barely making a ruckus yet still feeling like a racer. At 5’10” and 170 pounds, the bike had no issue carrying me at 55 mph when needed. The semi-automatic gearbox was perfect around town, keeping me right in the flow of traffic.
Inputs are a bit sensitive, as you’d expect with a smaller bike. The proportions are tighter, the front brake grabs quickly and works well. Turning feels different thanks to the smaller wheels and bars, but it becomes second nature quickly. I found the seat quite comfortable. The wide, flat design made it easy to move around and find what worked best for me. Parking was my favorite feature. It fits nearly anywhere. Carefully filtering through traffic is also an advantage thanks to its size. Just like my vintage CT70, the ST125 drew attention everywhere it went. Waves, thumbs-ups, double takes — every time I dismounted, I was met with questions and comments from passersby.
While some may say tiny bikes aren’t for everyone, I’d argue they are, unless you’re simply too tall. There’s a point where you just won’t fit, I suppose. Beyond that, the Honda ST125 is for just about anyone. New riders. Young riders. Old riders. Shorter riders. Enthusiasts of the brand and its heritage models. Folks who “used to have one.” Commuters, campers, coffee-runners: it fits anywhere and barely sips fuel along the way. The Dax 125 is unintimidating and friendly. It’s pure motorcycling. It’s fun, and it’s stylish. You either love it or you don’t.
Looking to the past while riding toward the future, the CT70 and ST125, seen side by side, tell a larger story about Honda’s roots, and how honoring heritage can inspire thoughtful evolution. The Trail 70 taught generations how to ride. The Dax ST125 reminds us why we ride in the first place.
— Drew Perlmutter
