Lawrence Hacking Reflects On The Life Of Malcolm Smith

Malcolm Smith 1941-2024

This week, an important figure in motorcycling, Malcolm Smith, passed away at 83. He was born on Salt Spring Island in British Columbia in 1941, and I believe he held his Canadian heritage close to heart; in my experience, he was extra friendly with Canadians.

Malcolm Smith was an excellent rider, racer, and businessman, but he was also a kind and caring gentleman who conducted himself with style and grace. He had a far-reaching positive impact on motorcycling and could be considered one of the first and most significant role models whose influence is felt to the present day. Social Media has been flooded with tributes and well-wishes for the past two days. Malcolm made such a lasting and positive impression on everyone he met over the years.

Malcolm’s fame came soon after Bruce Brown’s movie On Any Sunday came out in 1970, featuring Malcolm alongside his riding buddies Steve McQueen and Mert Lawwill. Bruce Brown made his name with another iconic film called Endless Summer, which is the definitive surfing movie. Brown pioneered long-lense cinematography and narration in Endless Summer and carried these techniques over to On Any Sunday. The movie changed the course of the motorcycle business; overnight, everyone so inclined wanted to buy a bike and participate in this newfound sport called dirt biking. Sales were on an upward swing for the following decade, and the trickle-down effects are still in play.

At the risk of inciting an online riot, I believe the 1960s and 1970s were the ‘Golden Era’ not only for motorcycling but also for culture, lifestyle, and attitudes. However, I may be biased; I grew up in the thick of those times and treasure the thought of how fortunate I am to have lived it first-hand. We saw On Any Sunday in a movie theatre for the first time, and it became a staple home VHS video to the point where we knew the dialogue by heart and every piece of music and watched every scene over and over. The feature on Malcolm riding the ISDT in Spain and him doing an effortless wheelie around a corner on a trials bike made me want to be just like him. The way he rode nearly every discipline exceedingly well and did it in such an easy-going flair set me on a path that I still enjoy. These days, with the internet, cell phone cameras, overnight sensation influencers, and a multitude of interests one can pursue, life is infinitely more complicated than in Malcolm’s heyday. To me, he stood for the concept of keeping it simple, enjoying your sport over the long haul, and doing it with class and a smile on your face.

I was fortunate to meet Malcolm on three occasions, once at his Riverside, California shop, where he put down what he was doing aside and gave us an in-depth tour; another time, we sat together and watched the short track races at Daytona and the last time when he was the Grand Marshall of the Baja 1000 where we chatted for a second before he was dragged away to his duties. I remember shaking his hand as he walked away; I called out, “We’ll catch up later,” but I don’t think he heard me.
He also perpetuated the thought of giving back. His annual Malcolm ride through the Baja wilderness generated money for an orphanage in Baja. His legend will live, and his lingering effect changed many lives for the better.

Malcolm Smith will be remembered fondly; I know I will never for him.

RIP Malcolm!