High Times
There was a time in the mid-70s when Evel Knievel was everywhere. In case you’re not familiar with him, he was the OG stunt bike rider that started a fascination with daredevilry that permeated the culture of the time.
It was all so perfect: society’s enchantment with the fast and flashy; the quintessential 1970s-era white leisure suit à la Elvis in Vegas; the Clint Eastwood-style tough guy persona that marked the decade.
Knievel had it all.
Of course there was the Americana that so many loved: the red, white and blue that adorned his attire. Not only was he a daredevil, but he was a patriot to boot. And he wore white boots, too. What’s not to like?
Knievel had something for everyone: the young, the old, the hopeful. Those who aspired to become extreme risk-takers; those who looked at him and wondered if they should have taken the same risks in their younger years.
But Evel was no Low Rider.
No - he was a high-flying, rootin’ tootin rebel who blew caution to the wind, upon which he sailed while also clearing a row of trucks at one time, 15 cars at another and of course, his magnum (flying) opus, clearing the Grand Canyon.
According to folklore, Knievel says that he chose his nom de plume after spending a night in jail after being arrested for reckless driving. While locked up overnight, he learned of a fellow inmate named William Knofel. This man had been given the questionable moniker of “Awful Knofel” so it wasn’t too much of a stretch for Evel to choose the name that he was eventually known for.
And the rest is history, as they say.
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