Life of Evel: Evel Knievel by Stuart Barker Read Free Book Online Page B

in the Far East. American riders in particular referred to Hondas as ‘rice burners’ and preferred their machines to be of wholesome American or British stock. But if Knievel could prove that a little Honda was good enough to jump 40 feet over a cage of rattlers then just maybe he could convince them to buy one from his store.
    The obvious choice for the jump site was at the Moses Lake Raceway, not far from Knievel’s bike shop, and it was arranged that he would perform his madcap stunt during the halftime break in race proceedings. Knievel says he never formally practised the 40-foot leap but it seems safe to assume he had attempted some sort of jumps prior to his public debut, even if they were on a much smaller scale. On the other hand, given that he never made a habit of practising for any of his later bigger jumps (‘No use practising – if you kill yourself in practice you’ll never make the jump for real’), it is possible that he was prepared to just twist the throttle and see what happened. He was, after all, well versed in the merits of positive thinking and was more than happy to take a risk if he thought there was money to be made.
    Obtaining the lions and snakes was in itself quite an achievement, and it would be hard to imagine such a performance being permitted today in our animal-friendly society. However, Bobby used his connections well and arranged to ‘borrow’ the hapless creatures from the zoo in Cooley City. The zoo’s manager was dating a girl Knievel knew well and he used all his charm in persuading her to fight his case. ‘She used to come into the store and sit around all the time and go to lunch with me and this and that and the other thing, so she talked him into doing it.’
    Even so, the owner of the mountain lions was still understandably nervous about subjecting his animals to the potential harm that could be caused them by a lunatic on a motorcycle. ‘The guy that owned the mountain lions was afraid I was going to kill them so he put both of them close to the take-off ramp,’ Knievel explained. No one seemed to care much for the well-being of the rattlesnakes, however, the general consensus probably being that if there were to be a hundred less poisonous critters slithering around Washington State then so much the better.
    With the snakes and lions in place and blissfully unaware of what was about to happen next, Knievel rode out in front of the crowd on his little Honda to prepare for his first ever professional appearance as a motorcycle jumper. There was little of the glitz and glamour which was associated with his later appearances; no sparkling red, white and blue jumpsuit, no spectacularly custom-painted Harley-Davidson and no entourage of helpers and hangers-on. But the showmanship was there from the very beginning as Knievel revved his bike and made several runs past the take-off ramp, an action which both excited the crowd and allowed Knievel to assess the speed he would need to be travelling at to safely make the jump. This was a technique Knievel would use throughout his career to great effect.
    When he felt he had whipped his audience into a suitable frenzy, Knievel rode slowly back to his starting position and prepared to face the unknown. What he was about to attempt was no illusion, nor was there any trickery involved. If he didn’t carry enough speed he was going to be seriously hurt right there in front of a live audience, and if he couldn’t hold on to the bike as it smashed back down to earth he could even be killed. Like taking an aeroplane on its first test flight, there was no safe way to practise what Knievel was about to attempt, and that is precisely what drew the crowd’s attention.
    Racing cars or motorcycles is a matter of progressively gaining speed through experience. Jumping a motorcycle is do or die, Russian roulette on two wheels. Knievel would twist his throttle, launch himself off a flimsy wooden ramp and put his fate in the hands of the gods.