Tuesday, June 27, 2017


Ok... so, I was CRAZY into Evel Knievel! that nutty mofo was MY BIGGEST IDOL. So one year for Christmas, I got the Evel Knievel jumpsuit with stars n' stripes in a "v" shape on the front and back, cool white cape, fake helmet and mask! Hell yes! A MASK of Evel's face! It was essentially a Halloween costume for Christmas and I was over the frickin' moon excited about it. 

I tried it on and I didn't take it off all day! There's a photo somewhere of myself, ROCKING my Evel jumpsuit and mask! 
And I was not fucking around! I was dead serious! No laughing was allowed.I was nine years old and I was THE MAN (back when imagination was a necessity).

So, before New Year's Day even came around I was on the back street jumping ramps on my FLY second hand dirt/trail bicycle - and faster than you could say "shattered clavicle" I had toy Tonka truck busses lined up and was clearing them easy! 

High arcing jumps with a dope front wheel twist at the apex.. mask and ALL! I was soaring and neighborhood kids were gathering.

I was the hero of the neighborhood and my new found micro fame was getting to my head a little. But, all was well, I had it everything under control.

Being a true stickler for authenticity, on day two of "Evel Comes to Eastview Street", I insisted on adding a landing ramp, which was a piece of plywood propped up on a cinder block. But it made the jump look exactly like the ones I saw on TV. I recruited more toy busses from kids in the neighborhood and day two took off with a soaring success! 

A skinny nine-year old masked kid with a fresh ass white cape whippin' in the 7mph breeze created by piston-like peddling... lift off! Flight! Smooth landing! HOORAY! 50,000 kids cheered as I nailed the 5 toy bus jump (actually, it was 5 kids and one was a toddler who gave zero fucks and kept screwing around with my busses). The kids lined up 6 busses as I circled around far down the street to start my dramatic approach. WHOOSH! Cape whipping! And BOOYAH! Easily cleared the 6 toy bus jump! Next up, SEVEN BUSSES! 

I circled back down to my starting point. I peered crookedly through the eye holes of the plastic Evel mask, my breath making that wet swishing sound at the mask's mouth slit! Pumping the pedals like a mad man I built up speed on the breath-taking quarter mile approach to the take-off ramp. Seven busses! I was focused like never before and I was going faster than ever before as I approached the ramp! So fast, in fact, that the wind blew the mask over my eyes... I saw nothing but the mouth slit! Topping out about 7.5 mph I still hit my mark and soared from the take-off ramp, but couldn't see anything except a tiny spit soaked slit. I couldn't line up my landing and my front tire hit the cinder block holding the landing ramp and the bike stopped instantly... but I kept flying! Crooked Evel Knievel mask, cape still whipping, my fame came to a scabbed up ending with a mouthful of dirt and both arms broken just above the wrist!

The seventh bus... was one bus too far. 
And in keeping with my respect for authenticity, just like my idol, I had broken bones, a destroyed bike, ripped and torn star-spangled jump suit and the hardest lesson my ego had to learn; until girls came along, of course. 

That's my big bike wreck story.

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