Free Life of Evel: Evel Knievel by Stuart Barker

he could offer nothing more to anyone than that. It stemmed from his Butte upbringing where a man could only be seen as a man if he kept his word. If you say you’re going to do something in Butte, you had better do it, and it was a code that Evel lived by. Throughout his career he attempted jumps he felt he couldn’t make, even at the risk of serious injury or death, because he’d given his word he’d try. It was this strongly held belief that led Knievel to try the biggest and most outrageous stunt of his entire career some years later, and, ultimately, to his undoing.
    Evel had by now abandoned his Norton in favour of another British bike, a 650cc Triumph T120 Bonneville, now one of the most revered of all classic British motorcycles. Despite his later association with Harley-Davidson, Knievel never hesitated in naming the Bonneville as his favourite bike of all time for jumping. ‘The Triumph was a much better handling motorcycle than the Harley. The XR-750 Harley had way too much torque. When it got up in the air it wanted to twist because it had so much torque. The Triumph 650 went as straight as a bullet.’ His praise for the 650cc model, however, did not extend to the 750cc version, which he rather amusingly berated as ‘…a piece of crap. It couldn’t pull a sick whore off a piss-pot with Vaseline on her.’
    But, as Evel was finding out, there was more to jumping a motorcycle than simply twisting the throttle and hoping the bike went as straight as a bullet. ‘The big thing about jumping over cars on a motorcycle is to hit the take-off ramp just right. I don’t want the bike’s front wheel to hit the ramp too hard. That might throw me over the handlebars. I have to hang on tight. And then I fly through the air and hope for a safe landing. When I jump I stand or lean forward on the balls of my feet. The motorcycle has a tendency to buck and come over backwards on me so I try and lean forward to hold it down. I want to go off the take-off ramp right at the top of the power curve. If I do, the bike’ll go straight through the air. If I don’t, the motorcycle has a tendency to drift sideways and cross up. It’s just like crouching in a crouch; if you crouch too much you can’t jump very high, if you don’t crouch at all you don’t jump very high. You gotta be on the power curve.’
    It is, as Evel often explained, only when the rider has left the take-off ramp that the real skill of motorcycle jumping comes into play. ‘Anyone can jump a motorcycle, the trouble comes when you try to land it. I never missed a take-off in my life. It’s like I put you in a Learjet and help you take off but then I give you the controls and say “all right, big boy, now you go ahead and land it”. That’s where you’ll have your ass knee deep in crap, boy.’
    The most incredible thing about Knievel’s jumping technique was that it was all based on feel and instinct rather than being scientifically calculated in the way that modern jumpers prepare their jumps. As he openly admitted, ‘I did everything by the seat of my pants. That’s why I got hurt so much.’ One of Knievel’s former friends and helpers, Joe Delaney, recalls being amazed at Knievel’s haphazard approach to jumping. Turning up for the first time to help Knievel set up his ramps he was expecting a much more high-tech approach than what he actually witnessed. ‘He told me, “Step off 40 steps.” I said, “What for?” He said, “That’s how far I’m gonna jump. Just draw a line in the dirt.” So we did and he set his ramps up.’
    Knievel’s Triumph Bonneville was slightly customised to meet his unique demands, but it was still far from being an ideal tool for the job; unlike the modern motocross bikes, which are lightweight, have massive suspension travel and heaps of power. Like the motorcycle racers who have no need for road-going gear, Evel ditched the lights, mudguards and numberplates and fitted a racing engine and racing exhaust to