GOODBYE, OLD FRIENDS...
THE NEWS OF Dave Nourish’s passing, followed by Paul Smart’s tragic death only a few days later, has made it a sad month and hit us on a personal level. CB Art Editor Austin Smith’s dad raced sidecars in the 1960s and ’70s, and with his family and Dave’s both living in the Rutland area, became good friends over time through attending the same race meetings. Austin’s dad even passengered for Dave in a one-off occasion. And when Austin was a teenager, he spent time on the Island with Dave. “I’d planned to go to the TT, but I had crashed my 250 and broken my collarbone just days before,” says Austin. “Being a typical teenager and a hardcore TT fan, I refused to miss that year. So, with my arm in a sling, I jumped on the boat to the Island and was met at the dock by Dave and dad’s other racing friends, with whom I stayed during the week in a Douglas hotel. The memories of that year still make me smile, as they introduced me to the classic bike scene – and the art of drinking beer!” As far as my own personal experience goes, as a teenager I’d started to go to bike races with my mate’s dad, Mr Weekes (he had a car, my dad didn’t) and I picked out Paul Smart’s thenunique knee-out style as the pack flicked through the Thruxton complex on the first lap of a race. ‘Oh, that’s Paul Smart on the Joe Francis Yamaha,’ the ever-patient Mr Weekes explained. ‘No one else has a style like that.’ Smartie and his exuberant style marked him down as my first road racing hero. I avidly followed his progress from British nationals to Triumph works racer, to when he became the first real Transatlantic jetsetting works rider after joining Bob Hansen’s Kawasaki team, and beyond. It wasn’t just his style. Smartie always looked and sounded so chirpy when he was interviewed and virtually every mug shot of him in the press showed him with a cheeky grin on his face. He was a great character. When I got into this writing lark, I met him and his wife Maggie, through their son Scott who had become a professional racer in the 1990s. Don’t believe that old cliché about never meeting your heroes because you’ll be disappointed – Paul was exactly the same character I’d imagined when I was a spectator – and more. One of the great joys of British racing for me was ‘bench racing’ with Paul in the pit lane at British races. I discovered that happy-chappy racer persona, which carried over after his career had finished, as did his love for motorcycles. When the Ducati Paul Smart 1000LE was launched, Smartie had to be at Dijon as the guest of honour at the Coupes Moto Légende, so he, Neil Spalding (Motogp tech writer and a close mate of mine and Smartie’s) and I rode down. The pair of them were on Ducatis and I was on a Hinckley Triumph; we kept to empty back roads, so we could enjoy scratching around without the hassle of too much traffic. After one long section that consisted of endless miles of switchback corners, we pulled up at a junction to consult the map. The defining moment of the trip for me came with Smartie getting off his bike, giggling like a child, rubbing his hands with glee, and saying: “Fantastic – shall we go back and do it again?” The moment made me realise that, even after all his racing success, Smartie still had a burning passion for motorcycles – I think that’s probably why his insatiable enthusiasm rubbed off on so many other people.