Life of Evel
Stuart Barker
Evel Knievel
For Ally Cubbon and Shannon Chloe Greenwood
Best buddies
Table of Contents
11 Hear no Evel, See no Evel, Speak no Evel
Evel Knievel’s incredible career reached its literal and metaphorical apex on 8 September 1974 when he attempted to jump the Snake River Canyon in Idaho in a custom-built, rocket-powered Sky Cycle.
The world held its breath as the 35-year-old daredevil from Montana blasted into the sky at 350mph in a bid to span the three-quarter-mile chasm. It had taken seven years to plan and execute the attempt and Knievel had invested $1 million of his own money to make it happen. Audiences packed cinemas across America to watch the event live on closed-circuit television (also known as pay-per-view), and newspapers around the world held their front-page headlines. It was the most-hyped stunt in history – and it didn’t work. Knievel’s drogue parachute blew out on take-off and, after soaring a thousand feet into the Idaho sky, his X-2 Sky Cycle started drifting down towards the murky green depths of the Snake River. Once he was hidden from view of the thousands of spectators on the canyon rim, many feared Knievel had finally gone too far and had ended his remarkable life in a watery grave.
When he was rescued by boat and helicopter and returned to the canyon rim, Knievel was dazed and bloodied, and, having just bombed out of the biggest stunt event of all time, he considered retiring to enjoy the reputed $6 million he had earned from the event. But having already tried to blow a million dollars on a ‘last supper’ drinking party before the jump, Knievel needed more money to fund his extravagant lifestyle and within nine months he was back with a sellout performance at Wembley Stadium in London in what was to be the only UK appearance of his career.
Even by today’s Extreme-sports standards, Knievel’s Snake River jump remains a monumental act of daring, bravado, showmanship, courage and, for some, sheer stupidity. But whatever anyone’s personal take on the Snake River attempt, there is no denying that it represented the zenith of Evel Knievel’s career. His fame continued into the late Seventies and he carried on performing for a further six years after his most famous stunt, but never again did he capture the collective imagination of the world in such a way, nor attempt anything quite so spectacular and original, or on such a magnificent scale.
It mattered not. Knievel had already secured his title as the ‘King of the Daredevils’, the self-styled ‘last of the gladiators’, and he was being embraced by a whole new generation of skaters, snowboarders, freestyle motorcycle riders and base jumpers, among others, as the Godfather of daring – the original Extreme athlete. Here was a man who transformed what was nothing more than a county-fair sideshow act into a global spectacular; a man who had reportedly broken every bone in his body and, while that was some way from the truth, had certainly suffered more pain and injury during his 15-year career than most people could ever imagine in a lifetime.
A natural-born hustler, Knievel’s career would never have progressed from state fairs and local car-race meetings had he not possessed a Herculean aptitude for self-promotion. Right up until the Snake River Canyon attempt, Knievel handled all of his own PR, bookings and promotions; not because he couldn’t afford hired help, but simply because he knew he was the best man in the world for the job. He frequently referred to himself as a P. T. Barnum for the modern age.
Evel’s first promotional masterpiece was the jump which made him famous all over the world – his attempt to leap over the majestic fountains outside the newly opened Caesar’s Palace casino in Las Vegas in 1967. The film footage of the crash, which resulted in Evel spending 29 days in a coma, was said to have been screened over the following years more than any other roll of film since the Zapruder footage of President Kennedy’s assassination. It is certainly one of the most watched pieces of sports footage in history. Children and adults alike around the world were captivated by the gory, slow-motion images of Knievel’s body being battered, torn and crunched over the Tarmac surface of his landing area. No one had ever seen anything quite like it before, and few thought they would see anything like it ever again. Surely Knievel would never be able to ride again after such a horrendous crash, even if he wanted to?
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