Built to honour a lifetime of ambition, friendship and love. Ralph Appleby’s Lambretta TV200 is a deeply personal tribute machine realised through decades of patience, loyalty and belief.
There are moments in scootering when a machine transcends its physical form. When metal, fuel and rubber stop being just components and instead become chapters in a story that stretches back years, sometimes decades. Ralph Appleby’s Lambretta TV200 is very much one of those scooters. It isn’t loud in appearance or exaggerated in performance, but it carries something far heavier than horsepower: a legacy.
For Ralph, the TV200 was never just another model in the Lambretta range. Long before ownership became a reality, it represented an ideal. As a teenager, the TV200 embodied the ultimate balance of sophistication and purpose, a touring scooter with elegance and enough performance to remind you that refinement needn’t be dull. Over the years, Ralph owned and built many scooters, but the ownership of a TV200 remained a quiet constant in the background.
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The dream to own and build a TV200 first edged towards reality in 1994, when Ralph sourced a box of parts from a seller in London. At the time, it felt like the start of something inevitable. But in respect of scooter builders like Ralph, projects like this don’t exist in isolation, and life has a habit of rearranging priorities. At the time, an ongoing SX150 build was consuming both his time and energy, and by the time it reached completion, Ralph needed space, so the TV project was boxed, shelved, and slowly faded into the background.
Eventually, practicality intervened. While sourcing parts for the build, Ralph had dealt frequently with a pal, who later asked if he might consider selling the dormant project to a friend of his. Reluctantly, Ralph agreed, but only on the condition that it went to his mate. Letting go wasn’t easy, but at the time it felt sensible. The project had stalled, and perhaps it just simply wasn’t meant to be.
Vision
A few years later, at a rally in 2002, fate intervened in the most confronting way possible. There, in a skelly style, was the very same TV project stripped, stylised and transformed into something that bore little resemblance to Ralph’s original vision. For some, that might have been the final nail, but for Ralph, it was a moment of clarity. Not anger or bitterness, but resolve. That sight lit the fuse again. The dream hadn’t vanished; it had simply been delayed.
Fast forward to 2008–2009, and a second opportunity emerged through an old friend, Mossy, who had a TV200 for sale, in parts in boxes, and had the registration DEF 97D; a number Ralph immediately recognised as local to the Middlesbrough area. Even better, the scooter carried a tangible history. One of its previous owners had bought it from an older gentleman, who himself had purchased it new from White’s, which was the main Lambretta dealership in Darlington in the 60s. The machine hadn’t just survived; it had stayed close to home: a deal was done.
The timing was significant. Ralph was approaching his 60th birthday, and when his mum asked him what he wanted for his birthday, as tradition dictated, he said, “Socks or underpants please.” But his mum wasn’t having it. Sixty mattered, and so the gift had to be something equally special.
Ralph’s mum knew about the TV project, and she knew what it meant to him. And with the kind of clarity that only mothers seem to possess, she asked him a simple question: “Do you want anything to put that box of bits together?”
Ralph hesitated. He knew the scale of the work and the cost involved. He said he’d save up and do it himself. She refused. This was her gift not just to mark a birthday, but to help him finally complete something he’d carried with him for decades. She insisted.
Build it, and they will come…
In that moment, the project changed forever. This was no longer an ordinary build; it became a project, which was driven with 100% responsibility to do it properly, thoughtfully, and with care. Every decision would matter. Every detail would count. It was about honouring both the machine and his mum, who believed in him enough to make it possible.
Organising the project, Ralph turned to the people he trusted. Scotty, his long-time engine builder, was the obvious choice to bring the motor to life. Paul Clark, Shaun Burns, and, later, John Fletcher were enlisted to handle the frame, jigging, bodywork and paint. It was a collective effort rooted in experience.
The frame and bodywork laid down by Shaun Burns established the foundation, carefully prepared and aligned before being finished in white. Later, John Fletcher added the red paintwork, a colour choice that deliberately enhances the scooter’s vintage performance looks and sits comfortably within the TV’s touring lineage.
Tragically, in March 2010, Ralph’s mum passed away. The loss deepened the project’s meaning immeasurably. What had already been personal, now carried grief, gratitude and purpose in equal measure. Completing the scooter became an act of remembrance as much as craftsmanship.
Longevity
Technically, the engine setup reflects the same philosophy as the rest of the scooter. Scotty based the motor around one of his Innocenti barrels, a choice that signals a connection to originality. Breathing is handled by a 24mm PHBL Dellorto carb, and the exhaust is a Ralph Saxelby Clubman Ancillotti replica, which complements the engine’s character perfectly, delivering a purposeful note and allowing the scooter to move briskly, while retaining its touring characteristics.
Internally, Scotty’s porting work subtly sharpens the power delivery, smoothing transitions and ensuring the power builds progressively rather than arriving in a rush. Transmission power is managed by an AF Rayspeed six-plate clutch with an easy-pull setup, a small detail that makes a big difference over long distances, while the GP200 four-speed gearbox offers ratios that feel instinctively right.
On the road, the result is exactly as Ralph describes it: smooth, composed and quietly eager; the engine wasn’t built for headline performance figures, it was built for the road and miles.
Up front, the original Innocenti in-board cable-operated reverse-pull disc provides effective braking while preserving period aesthetics. The rear drum remains untouched, reinforcing the scooter’s balance between originality and usability. Suspension at the front has been upgraded with internal progressive MB springs, and an R1 adjustable gas unit is at the rear.
Inside the legshields, the toolbox houses USB ports, a modern convenience hidden behind classic lines. Twin fuel tanks extend range, without disrupting the scooter’s appearance, and the original speedometer has been reconditioned to period correctness.
The seat, crafted by Gary Simpson in a Nanucci café racer style, completes the profile and is finished in coordinated grey tones to add a gentle sporting edge without undermining comfort.
Reminder
Unfortunately, the build wasn’t without further loss. Shaun Burns, who played a significant role in the project’s early stages, passed away before seeing the scooter completed, and his contribution lives on in every line and panel, which is another reminder that this TV200 carries more than mechanical history.
When the scooter was finally completed, Ralph’s first significant ride was a journey back to Darlington, the town where the scooter had first entered onto the road. From there, he visited Mossy, the friend who’d originally sold it to him in boxes. When Mossy saw it, his reaction was instant and heartfelt: “I love it; when can I have it back?” Ralph’s reply was polite, but equally swift. “Never.” Some things, once earned, are not meant to be passed on.
Reflecting on the development, history, and background of this project, Ralph says that he wouldn’t change a thing. This TV200 is the product of patience, trust, and a huge emotional investment, which is evidence that the most powerful builds aren’t always defined by speed or spectacle, but by meaning.
Funded by a mother’s belief, shaped by skilled hands, and completed through loss and perseverance, DEF 97D stands as a reminder that sometimes the greatest journeys are the ones that take a lifetime to begin and are all the richer for it.
Words: Stu Smith
Photos: Gary Chapman
Acknowledgement: Scootering would like to say thank you to Backworth Hall Miner’s Welfare, who allowed us to use their grounds for the photoshoot.
Man and machine
Name: Ralph Appleby.
Scooter club & town: Fungus the Bogey Men S.C / South Shields.
First scooter, and how did you become interested in them: In 1964, I got into the Mod scene, and at that time, I was getting paid a half-decent wage, so when I was sixteen, I bought a Vespa 125. I had it for a couple of weeks, and the clutch cable broke. After that, I traded it in at Ken’s Motorcycles, which at the time was a Lambretta dealership in Newcastle and got a TV175 Series 3.
Most memorable rally: Richmond or Scarborough in 1966.
Scooter model: Lambretta TV200
Kit: Innocenti 200 (Tuned & ported by Scotty)
Carb: Dellorto 24mm PHBL
Exhaust: Ralph Saxelby Clubman Ancilotti replica
Front Brake: Inboard cable reverse-pull Innocenti disc
Front & Rear suspension: Standard front dampers, with progressive MB internal springs. Rear: R1 gas adjustable shocker.
Time to build & by who: Approximately one year by Shaun Burns, John Fletcher, Scotty and Paul Clarky.
Seat by: Gary Simpson.
Paintwork by: Shaun Burns and John Fletcher
Any advice for people starting a project: Make sure you source all the right, good-quality parts and get the right specialists involved to support you.
Is there anyone you wish to thank: Mossy for letting me buy it off him in the first place, Shaun Burns (Rest in Peace) for his work at the beginning of the project, John Fletcher for the red paint additions, Scotty for the engine, Paul Clarky for his support with the build and, of course, my mum who made it all happen – RIP.
