Robert Craig “Evel” Knievel finally made it across the canyon on Friday November 30th at the age of 69.My generation lived for Evel, and SSP pullstring race-cars and Hot Wheels and Johnny Lightning and 5-speed banana seat bikes with sissy bars and baseball cards clothes-pinned to the spokes to make it sound like a motorcycle, and when we turned 11; pump BB-guns that my dad broke the law to buy me, and these insane motorized mini-bikes. I can still hear our school’s very own Evel Knievel, Brian Novak, gripping the imaginary handlebars in the corridor’s of Amherst Junior High, revving the throttle, his voice the engine....the initial high pitched take-off screaming down the cafeteria corridor “weweeee, weeeeeeeeeee, weeeeeeeeeeee” and then downshifting into the turn past the library “WEEE Weeee, wunnhhh, wunhhh, wunnnnnnhhh”....a carb sputter “dekkka dekkka dekka dekka” and some traction issues in the mud...” nguhhhh. nguhhhh, nguuuuh” and then with a twinkle in his eye as the straightaway that ran clean from the principal’s office to the gym at the other end of the building opened up before him....a 20 foot wheelie as “Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeyaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaowwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww” he left us in the dust. We coughed and hacked and waved away the imaginary cloud in full support of the illusion. And when we were 13, one day we rubbed our eyes as the dust cleared away , and there before us stood....girls. They brushed off their skirts and coughed with us for the first time. We all heard Brian in the distance, weee, weeee, weeeee.
On Friday, November 30, when they told Evel this was probably the end, he ripped out his IV, snapped his fingers, and three men in american flag tuxes with capes that bore the word "gravity" slashed diagonally in a red circle, swept into the hospital room, pushing doctors and family aside and taking Evel from the room to shouts of protest. They loaded him into a nearby van and sped away with a trailer on the back bearing Knievel’s Honda.
When they arrived at the Grand Canyon National Park the park service waved them through. This day had been foretold in the daredevil's inner circles and they were honored to be on duty when it finally arrived. The van parked near the abyss and the took the bike off the trailer. Knievel climbed on and started her up. He was handed his star-spangled helmet, but declined. He turned a quick 180 and headed away from the edge. About 100 yards out he turned again, and without pause, he headed back, building speed, throttle wide open. Surprised bystanders gasped and the men saluted and wept. As he went over the edge he seemed to keep going, and as they squinted and peered out into void, they heard the bike but saw that he still was not descending into the canyon and then he disappeared and there was no sound at all. --Jim Neill
