That was exactly me in '76, huckin' my Schwinn Stingray over shaky ramps and busting my ass repeatedly. Lots & lots of monkey blood used on my Evel Knievel attempts.
Knievel jumps on Wide World of Sports were epic events in the early 70s. They were followed by millions of kids building ramps and jumping Schwinn Stingrays. We lined up milk crates until each kid hit the deck or said no mas. Great time to be a kid.
Knievel was a real bigger than life no opologizes bad ass.
That was exactly me in '76, huckin' my Schwinn Stingray over shaky ramps and busting my ass repeatedly. Lots & lots of monkey blood used on...
That was exactly me in '76, huckin' my Schwinn Stingray over shaky ramps and busting my ass repeatedly. Lots & lots of monkey blood used on my Evel Knievel attempts.
Yep, me too. Can't see in that picture, but looking for greasy shredded bell bottoms on that sprocket side.
JAFO92 wrote:
That was exactly me in '76, huckin' my Schwinn Stingray over shaky ramps and busting my ass repeatedly. Lots & lots of monkey blood used on my Evel Knievel attempts.
Yep, me too. Can't see in that picture, but looking for greasy shredded bell bottoms on that sprocket side.
Damn it Newmann, I still have a scar on the inside of my left leg from my EK bike pulling my leg down between
the seat and tire and using it for a F'ing Break! ...from my damn jeans caught in the sprocket
That shot of the neighborhood kids watching Johnny Danger crash the fire barrier! And his parents in the background- can you imagine if that hit the webbernet today? Those careless, negligent, poor excuses for guardians would be in deep.
No sir, just stuff I found on the 'net. I certainly did the same exact stunts depicted in those pics though, its crazy to see just how kids across the USA we all were doing the same thing.
That was exactly me in '76, huckin' my Schwinn Stingray over shaky ramps and busting my ass repeatedly. Lots & lots of monkey blood used on...
That was exactly me in '76, huckin' my Schwinn Stingray over shaky ramps and busting my ass repeatedly. Lots & lots of monkey blood used on my Evel Knievel attempts.
Ha...monkey blood. My Grandpa thought that evil lava burning devil elixer cured everything. When I got older I asked him why he slapped that crap on us. He said he figured we'd eventually figure out that mercurochrome/merthiolate stung so bad we'd stop bugging him about every scrape and cut. He was right. I'm still digging chat and pea gravel out of my knees from 50 years ago. My nuts still retract every time I look at a Schwinn steering stem.
I had this sweet Evel toy bike for like 15 minutes. I can't remember how it worked but once it got going it would wheelie. Never forget it. Got it for Christmas did it a total of two times. On the second time, I thought it would be sweet to have it wheelie on my sisters head as she was opening her presents.....once mom cut it of her hair and I got my ass beat, I had to throw it away.
I had a graveyard of broken bicycles in my parents crawlspace when I was a kid. I'd cobble one together with usable parts, then go out and do some stupid jump, only to break it again. We (us kids) would work together with whatever good parts we had to keep our buddies rolling.
We always had neighborhood heros who would ultimately be challenged by (or challenge) the hot-shots from across town who thought they were the big dogs. That would lead to a big jump-off. The big Tonka trucks is what we'd usually jump. Everyone would raid their kid brother's toy box and show up at the ramp. We had a few creek gaps that we'd jump, also.
Say what you want, Evel may have been a POS as a human being, but he launched many a love affair with a motorcycle.
My grandpa was a cook at the county work release in Valencia when Evel was there for hitting a guy with a baseball bat.
He got to know him pretty well.
Funny exchange here that pretty much of sums him up.
Mark Dzwonkeiwicz (dzwan-kev-itz, not a made-up name) figure out that adding a lip at the end of the ramp would provide extra lift & distance, versus laying a flat board on a 55 gallon drum. Coincidentally, Mike Dzwonkeiwicz (again, not made up) was always the "last in line" when leaping across human bodies. Mike's role as emergency landing area inevitably created more injuries for both Mike and the rider than any other stunt.
That was exactly me in '76, huckin' my Schwinn Stingray over shaky ramps and busting my ass repeatedly. Lots & lots of monkey blood used on...
That was exactly me in '76, huckin' my Schwinn Stingray over shaky ramps and busting my ass repeatedly. Lots & lots of monkey blood used on my Evel Knievel attempts.
That shot of the neighborhood kids watching Johnny Danger crash the fire barrier! And his parents in the background- can you imagine if that hit the...
That shot of the neighborhood kids watching Johnny Danger crash the fire barrier! And his parents in the background- can you imagine if that hit the webbernet today? Those careless, negligent, poor excuses for guardians would be in deep.
That shot gave me a smile a mile wide.
You can see the woman near the back reaching for a bucket of water. Ha!
My first ever motorcycle hero, I wasn't even alive during his hey day, but my Dad informed me about it my whole life. I will watch, read, or listen to anything and everything about Evel.
The Shop
Knievel was a real bigger than life no opologizes bad ass.
That was exactly me in '76, huckin' my Schwinn Stingray over shaky ramps and busting my ass repeatedly. Lots & lots of monkey blood used on my Evel Knievel attempts.
Yep, me too. Can't see in that picture, but looking for greasy shredded bell bottoms on that sprocket side.
Damn it Newmann, I still have a scar on the inside of my left leg from my EK bike pulling my leg down between
the seat and tire and using it for a F'ing Break! ...from my damn jeans caught in the sprocket
After eating asphalt and concrete enough times, I finally learned to tuck my Toughskins into my sock.
Huck it and hold on !
Schwinn/Huffy Big Leagues !
Now get up, fix the handlebars and try it again.
Bet that left a mark!
Some of those pics look like they were shot in the San Fernando Valley..
That shot gave me a smile a mile wide.
Pit Row
We always had neighborhood heros who would ultimately be challenged by (or challenge) the hot-shots from across town who thought they were the big dogs. That would lead to a big jump-off. The big Tonka trucks is what we'd usually jump. Everyone would raid their kid brother's toy box and show up at the ramp. We had a few creek gaps that we'd jump, also.
Say what you want, Evel may have been a POS as a human being, but he launched many a love affair with a motorcycle.
My grandpa was a cook at the county work release in Valencia when Evel was there for hitting a guy with a baseball bat.
He got to know him pretty well.
Funny exchange here that pretty much of sums him up.
My first ever motorcycle hero, I wasn't even alive during his hey day, but my Dad informed me about it my whole life. I will watch, read, or listen to anything and everything about Evel.
Post a reply to: 10 years ago