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My
Tribute to Don Smith
To Don
Smith:-
(29th
December 1937 - 6th October 2004)
I can't
remember the actual date I first met Don
Smith (always known as DR) -- sometime
in the mid-1970s I think. Of course I
knew of him from the 1960s when I first
started buying the weekly motorcycling
"comics" and later took up trials
riding. We booked him to run his popular
"trials schools" in Airdrie,
Lanarkshire. Memory is a bit rusty now,
but I think he came up to Scotland three
times. On one occasion he was riding my
150cc Miller-framed Honda TL. He wasn't
too happy when one of his pupils beat
him in the school's "passing out" trial.
Almost 30
years later he gave me another
rollicking for that. He said the rear
brake had jammed and it was the only
occasion when a pupil had beaten him!
Don saw me
ride my Yamaha 250 and announced to one
and all in a loud voice that it was
"Japan's first venture into home
rotovating". He christened me the WWTR
(world's worst trials rider) a title
which I have held un-opposed for nearly
30 years! The insults were thrown in
such a way that you just couldn't take
offence.
DR holding
court at an old quarry outside Airdrie,
Lanarkshire sometime in the late 1970s.
I'm the "wally" with the goggles on my
helmet, four people to the right of Don.
(Note: this was in a previous life, so I
have no beard!)
He taught me
how to ride down hill. His radical
approach was to pull the clutch in, and
control the bike on the front brake.
No-one else seemed to be doing it that
way at the time and I was amazed how
this worked for me, as I had always had
great difficulty on downhill sections.
In 1978,
still a novice, I entered the Scottish
Six Days Trial (yes you did just read
that correctly!) on a new Yamaha 250.
After crossing Rannoch Moor on the first
day, on a track described as 26 miles by
18 inches wide, I was late, exhausted,
dispirited, you name it. The going was
like riding over a corrugated roof, all
up and down. I was, of course, so slow I
was going up and down, while the British
Champion Martin Lampkin came alongside
me at about 40mph -- seemingly riding
about six inches off the ground --
making fast steady progress with one
hand while waving to me with the other
and asking if I was ok? Don (Fantic-mounted
that year I believe) met me by chance at
the end of the crossing and sorted me
out. I rode from Spean Bridge to Fort
William in a red mist at over 70mph on
the road with the Yamaha motor tingling,
just on the edge of seizure, and arrived
at the check-in 59 minutes late. I had a
great day on Tuesday and I got through
to the Wednesday afternoon when a bike
problem forced me out. My "excuse" is
that it was the hardest "Scottish" ever…
On his
advice I bought a Fantic, which was a
lovely little bike until the six speed
gearbox broke. I had built four and five
speed boxes before, but that six-speeder
was defeating me, requiring three hands
to re-assemble it. Don soon came to the
rescue again, with me inserting the cogs
with one hand while talking to the
factory expert with the other! Don had
contacted the expert and had him phone
me at home! I built it up in the spare
bedroom…
Some time
later when I worked for Trials and
Motocross News, he stayed at our
house in Morecambe. He was then heavily
into promoting bicycle motocross, even
driving a big Granada estate with "BMX
1T" as the number plate.
We both
wrote books for Haynes. Don's "Ride It -
The complete book of Motorcycle Trials"
was a great success, while my "Castrol
book of the Scottish Six Days Trial" was
a more modest seller...
Don told me
a marvellous way to meet people at a
party or other gathering when you know a
face but just can't put a name to it. As
the celebrity, he always had a host. DR
and the host would arrive at the door,
put their heads round the door and have
a look in. DR would say, "Who is the
grey-haired chap with the glasses?" The
host would say, "That's Fred, you met
him last year at so-and-so!" DR would
then launch himself straight into the
room, all guns blazing with the
hand-shake starting from 20 yards away.
"Fred, how are you, nice to see you
again!" Once "in" DR would be introduced
and passed around from guest to guest,
leaving each one feeling better for the
contact.
Over the
years we kept in casual contact. I spoke
to him this year. It must have been just
a few days before he died. He told me
about a problem with his neighbours; he
enthused about his much-modified Tiger
Cub; he told me about his shoulder
injury. There wasn't a hint of anything
wrong. Don would go on for ever.
He was a
showman, story-teller, entertainer, and
a damn good motorcyclist; a larger than
life character who always left you
felling better than when he arrived.
The world is
a sadder place without Don Smith, and I
consider it a privilege to have known
him.
Tommy
Sandham |
