Super Joe Reed
"Proving Doubters Wrong - That's
What Every Daredevil Loves To Do."
First thing you should know is that Super Joe is a Super
Nice Guy. Super Tough, Super Dedicated, Super Experienced
and maybe, just maybe, a little Super Crazy - but that's no
surprise when it comes to a battle-tested veteran of Daredevil
I met Joe Reed, 44, last June at Galpin Ford in North Hills,
CA during Evel Knievel's comeback announcement event. Evel's
return to active duty was a whirlwind
of activity - he signed autographs for some 3500 fans, introduced
his new custom Galpinized Ford F-150 Gladiator Truck, told
the story of how a last minute liver transplant saved his
life, recommended the President A-bomb Afghanistan, and danced
the Evel Boogie with three hot showgirls. It was a big day,
but after the dust cleared I took a look at the publicity
packet I'd received demonstrating what Joe Reed and Super
Stunts International had to offer.
I learned that Joe Reed took up the banner of "Super"
to honor his mentor, Super Joe Einhorn, a lesser known yet
significant contemporary and rival of Evel's who jumped Triumph
cycles out of San Jose. For years he set records and threw
down challenges to his Montana rival, until he suffered massive
injuries in a 1977 crash that resulted in severe head injuries
and the end of active duty.
In the wake of defeat rose an avenger: Super Joe Reed was
called to action (Reed and Einhorn continue their long friendship
to this day). Reed then produced and performed many stunt
shows and spectacles. His specialty? Screaming over whirling
helicopter blades on dirtbikes in teams - "The Vortex"
'copter shot. He hit the national airwaves in 1983 on "That's
Incredible!" - launching with partner Rick Schuster and
successfully avoiding being served up as daredevil daquiris
for families across the USA.
Through the '80s Reed took Evel's game and played the same
basic concept, but with power in numbers. For one promotion
he broke 24 jumping records in 24 hours, a record in itself.
No warm ups, no practices.
When I talked to Joe Reed late last year he was in post as
writer, producer and editor on a six-hour TV miniseries on
the History of Stunts. For
his research, Joe was aided by several all-stars in the field,
including Robert Craig "Evel" Knievel, who referred
him to racetracks, managers and key players from his own 35-year
career. So in addition to being a daredevil, you can call
Super Joe a bona fide stunt scholar.
Besides the Bionic Man from Montana and Super Joe Einhorn
("Unicorn," perfect appellation for a Daredevil),
Reed had a third major mentor: Bob Gill, The Florida Flyer,
the third point on the Bermuda Triangle of '70s Cyclejumpers,
and the other key rival trying to steal back Evel Knievel's
popular crown. Gill was the first guy to jump a dirt bike
and land it without a ramp. Literally just drop the bike out
of the sky and nail the landing like an 80-mph gym vault on
A paragon of his no-ramp style, Gill's legendary 1972 natural
canyon jump record measured 152 feet. This record stood for
over ten years until Super Joe, with the blessing of his mentor,
went 153 feet. That's the record standing right now (it doesn't
count when you fall off, but I loved Robbie Knievel's
"Grand Canyon Jump" all the same - more on the Super
Joe/Robbie rivalry shortly).
Still, showmanship is more than counting feet and inches.
It's character. On this count too, Super Joe proves himself
to be True Daredevil material. He's a character - not of Evel
Knievel's mega-gravity, which I consider on par with Rooster
Cogburn-era John Wayne, but it adds up this way: Reed is a
guy with heroic ideals driven to inspire people even at the
risk of his life. Considering he is a good father and family
man, this is serious business.
Super Joe is also a vocal advocate of Equal Daredevil Rights.
He speaks with conviction about the few female daredevils
in the game, whether the ones he's worked with, like Jumpin'
Jamie Pamintuan and Heidi Henry (who jumped 87 feet over a
canyon in January 2001), or others he admires, like Debbie
Lawler (who sometimes paired up with Evel Knievel for shows
in the 1970s) and Texas-bred Janet Ward (aka Janet Lee).
In a mostly macho-man industry, Reed stands out when he says,
"There's no other form of sport or entertainment in the
world that is as level a playing field - I invited these ladies
to dare the devil and they accepted the challenge."
But there's more. In 1988, Reed invented the building-to-building
jump, also known as "The One-Way Jump." Sounds good
and dramatic, right?
It should. Because it means there's no way out. There's no
veering harmlessly off to the side before you hit the ramp,
in case of trouble on the approach. There's no practice runs
past the ramp to get the feel before you pull the trigger.
It was as fatalistic a scenario as any warrior of the fantastic
could ever dream up. Super Joe opened a new chapter in the
Daredevil Bible when he launched over Ogden Street, nailing
a famous jump on the Original Strip near Binion's Horsheshoe.
In July '98 Super Joe did it again. He pulled the trigger
atop downtown L.A., a 100-foot jump over 5th Street at a height
of 14 floors. His partner Jumpin' Jamie successfully followed
him over the top 25 minutes later. The previous year she and
Super Joe successfully performed the first "team"
jump (male and female) where both rider and driver were blindfolded
(not sure if they had cigarettes - probably not).
You may remember in 1999 on Fox TV, Joe Reed's natural rival,
Robbie Knievel, nailed a very sharp 11-story building-to-building
jump, but Joe makes sure to point out that his own 100-foot
record still stands. And I couldn't help but notice that Super
Joe's publicity material was full of challenges promising
better stunts than a certain Kaptain Robbie Knievel.
I figure it's sort of like the league rivalry (Cowboys/Redskins,
Raiders/Jets) - both men disciples of Evel, one the blood-heir
to greatness, a
champion jumper in his own right facing all the complications
of a volatile paternal relationship; the other a committed
competitor who has to do a little more, make a little more
noise, try that much harder to win his hero's blessing.
Like everyone who's stone serious about his business, Reed
knows the risk. In February 2000, Super Joe was producing
and performing a stunt show in Las Vegas. During a warm up,
he took a standard 30-foot jump that failed. He got caught
short. His front wheel smashed the ramp and drove the front
fender into Joe Reed's face. He shattered 18 bones in his
Today he is in the later stages of rehab, with much of the
damage repaired. At Galpin, he just looked like a guy who'd
been fitted with braces, which of course happens to non-daredevils
all the time. After I learned the braces were part of reconstructive
surgery, I told him no one who hadn't known would know any
better. "I'm a perfectionist," he answered. "I
that's different from what it used to be." It reminded
me of motorcycle crasher Mark Hamill, aka Luke Skywalker,
whose scars were written into the script for "Return
of the Jedi" (he was smacked by a razor-clawed yeti on
Ice Planet Hoth).
"No one would want to walk a day in my shoes,"
Super Joe says of the catastrophic aftermath. Sixty m.p.h.
of motorcycle wheel impacting his head caused several teeth
to grind to dust. He now shelters four titanium plates and
28 screws in his head.
This was the end of the invincible period.
What was the invincible period? I learned quickly as Super
Joe began to confide to me his childhood mandate for daredevil
supremacy. A mystical experience convinced him that his family's
ultra-tough genetics made him invulnerable. Reed's dad was
a USAF flyer who did two tours and 100 missions over 'Nam.
His mom was an athlete and the kind of indomitable figure
who could survive a catastrophe like the one that shaped Joe
Reed's life and destiny as Super Joe.
Boise City, Lousiana, the late 1960s. Mrs. Reed was cruising
down the road in the family station wagon when two kids on
bikes broke out of the bayou on a collision course that would
two dead kids. Mrs. Reed, who was 7 months pregnant, swerved
so hard she flipped the station wagon onto its side at the
mouth of a bridge, whereupon the bridge railing started harpooning
through the car's interior, striking Joe Reed and his brother
in the head and injuring both - they were in the back seat
with the family German shepherd.
As the wheels spun to a stop on the upside-down car, Mrs.
Reed woke up, helped her kids out of the wreck and two months
later successfully gave birth tied to a machine with steel
rods anchoring the fused joints in her back.
Says Joe: "After that event, there was nothing on this
earth that scared me. My whole life until then I had nightmares.
I never had another nightmare again."
But something was left in the nightmare's place, episodes
of lucid dreaming that he believed held the key to powers
of a kind of sorcery. To invincibility.
As I envisioned this uncanny superhero origin story, it brought
to mind Evel and his plan for an ultra-high speed jump. Namely
that he wanted to fly 65
feet farther than the Caesar's Palace crash that would have killed any
ordinary man. I was a little taken aback. Somehow Evel's assurances
that "At Caesar's Palace I didn't have enough speed"
didn't completely pacify my analytic mind. I ask Joe Reed.
His response: "First of all, you have to remember, Evel
used to do his daredevil show 2-4 times a week. He only missed
1% of his jumps. That's 14 crashes in over 1400 flights."
Still, "I'm a little concerned about what he's planning
to do. I'd like to talk to him about it. He's talking about
a low-arc jump at 220 feet. The trouble
is, as you go faster and further, the target gets smaller
and smaller. Even with a digital speedometer, any variation
can mean missing the target by 15 feet."
"As a fan, as a friend I would prefer him not to do
that. He could do a wheelie show and a shorter jump over a
At that moment, Joe Reed seems like a grounded realist, taking
an analytic, physics-driven approach to the proposed jump,
not depending purely on mystic visualization. That's what
has me worried about Evel's Big Jump. You can't be a daredevil
without mystic visualization, but then again it didn't go
so well with, say, the rocket ride over Snake River Canyon.
Then, on the subject of that infamous flight, Reed relays
that when he was 16, in 1974, he made himself a promise in
response to Evel's close call: to build a 6-solid rocket booster
craft with a nested cycle inside - and to launch it in "The
Revenge of Snake Canyon."
All of a sudden in a flash the physics-driven realist is
M.I.A., and the Mystic Visualizer is working the room. Reed
describes his motto for the project: "Help A Legend Across
The Canyon, Become An Instant Legend."
Joe says he's got backing for a six million dollar prototype
of the Snake River Revenge Rocket to test at State Line, near
Evel's new casino. "I will build a rocket bike that will
cross Snake Canyon and I'm going to invite Evel to go along
and hit the big red button. It will be with Jet Propulsion
Lab and NASA engineering, an F-15 Rocketbike built for two."
Suddenly I have questions. Has Evel ever done a "shared
stunt" like that before? Would he ever? And Snake Canyon?
Evel only settled for it because his dream of rocketing over
the Grand Canyon he couldn't get clearance on.
Meanwhile, there's Robbie, who as son you'd expect to be
doing the avenging. He made a deal with a tribe in Arizona and in
1999 took a good long jump over a Wile E. Coyote-size canyon
plenty Grand enough to get him killed. The Kaptain
hit too deep on the landing ramp, got bucked off and walked
away (assisted by Dan Haggerty, TV's "Grizzly Adams")
with some relatively minor daredevil damage, the hero for
avenging his dad's dream of Jumping the Grand Canyon.
And of course in 1989, Robbie successfully jumped the fountains,
erasing the Curse of Caesar's Palace, the site where Evel
crashed so violently he was in a coma for a month. That's
the same distance Evel wants to outperform later this year
by 65 feet!
So yes, I had questions. But I decided not to get into it.
Just like I've made peace with Evel doing his Ultimate Jump:
if he's got a feeling about this, about making it, considering
everything he knows and everything he's done, then that's
good enough for me. I'm backing him up all the way down the
I'll be there when it happens and I'll get the story to the
people. Same thing with Super Joe, who is getting together
a stunt show for pay-per-view this year, complete with his
trademarks: multiple jumpers, new ideas
(including cyclejumping up off of skateboard half-pipes onto
elevated platforms), and multiple broken records. Super Joe's
one of the top daredevils in the world - he has a plan, and
I know he is the kind of guy who isn't just talking. He's
like his hero, a man of action, on a quest to test his limits.
I wish each of them (or possibly both together) nothing but
success as they tangle with the devil on two wheels.
"I wasn't scared. I was psyched."
I want you to meet another friend I made at Evel's Comeback
Announcement last year at Galpin. Janet Lee is having
an anniversary. Thirty years ago this summer she volunteered for
active duty as a girl daredevil.
What did it take to qualify? Nothing big, just an interest
in stunts and a willingness to get inside the demolition box
with "Mr. TNT." She volunteered, yet they wouldn't
actually let her do the dynamite act - what are they, chicken???
Still, Jan's confidence got the attention of stuntman Billy
Ward. The Deathriders show was in town and Janet,
daughter of Texas cop Bob Harris, seemed like the kind of
person who could deliver what Billy Ward wanted: women stunt
drivers, something new and inspiring for the American people.
Then there was the love connection - Billy and Jan were married
from June of '73 to June of '77.
On June 22, 1973 Jan officially joined Billy Ward's Champion Auto Daredevils, performing
a precision driving act. Over the next few months she ran
the gamut: precision
driving, crashing cars, driving through dynamite, reaching
ramming speed as Human Battering Ram, crashing through sheets
of ice and even performing a head-on crash with another driver.
You know, the kind of stuff we do everyday in L.A. to get
Jan was a dangernaut, a regular "Girl Evel," as
the paper called her. Others in her age group were getting
into drugs and alcohol, but Jan had no interest
in that stuff. She wanted to get high, all right - in a stunt
car! She had a wild streak, this cop's daughter, but it was
all honest work. Besides, says Jan, "There weren't enough
women role models and I always got a great reaction from little
kids." I'm guessing 1973 was the year "Don't try
this at home" officially entered the national vocabulary.
Jan spent 1974 specializing mostly on the Human Bomb Act,
working racetrack shows sometimes six nights a week, though
Missouri, Arkansas, Oklahoma and Kansas. After giving birth
to Billy Ward, Jr. in August 1975, Jan traded a Ford Pinto
for a CR 250 dirtbike. She trained herself on it in the desert
near Phoenix. In the bicentennial year 1976, Jan became one
of America's only active duty female cyclejumpers.
Her inaugural jump came May 1st, down in old Mexicali, a
benefit show for - but of course - the local blood bank. You
see, the show's male jumper crashed
when he failed to stop short on a practice ascent up the ramp
(you know: zoom up there, stop just short, gaze off at the
target, get the tension up - standard daredevil ritual, but
you've GOT to nail the stopping short part). So now they needed
Jan. It was her first big, public jump, and they needed her
to do it on a scrub bike with no speedometer.
Were you scared?
"I was naïve then," says Jan. "I wasn't
scared. I was psyched."
She hit it - barely. Her back wheel clipped the top of the
catch ramp, denting it, and she cruised to victory unharmed.
And then she did the Leap of Death, a Suicide Twist and the
Miss Dinamita act as well. A stunt woman's work is never done.
The rest of the season found her in the great states of Texas
and Arizona, inaugurating new Kawasaki dealerships by jumping
over 60 bikes.
Here's the best part: Who the hell insured these things?
"No one. You just said you were or no one asked."
Daredevil Alley, baby! Your private insurance information
is between you, your mechanic and your God.
Las Cruces in 1977, Jan got the blessing of Southwest cycle-jumping
champ Bob Duffey. Duffey used to wear the slogan "Fear
No Evil" on his leathers as a cut on his Montana rival.
By now Jan had worked enough where she'd seen most variations:
she'd made scores of perfect jumps, had plenty of near misses,
and one official crash that required stitches. Then came San
Angelo, Texas. Caesar had his Rubicon. Evel had the Snake
River. For Jan it was the Concho River, her biggest jump ever.
It went like this. Thousands gather for the Fiesta del Concho,
starring girl daredevil Jan Ward. During practice
runs something doesn't feel right with the speed. But hundreds
and hundreds on both sides of the river are there to see her
jump, so she signals she's ready.
She races toward the ramp and when she hits it she feels
the throttle fail ever so slightly. She sails over the Concho
but falls short of the catch ramp and plows into the riverbank
instead. A little more elevation would have killed her, throwing
her into the hard lumber of the catch ramp. Still, it's not
exactly a soft landing. She hits with her head and right elbow.
The medics are there on the spot. One of Jan's brothers removes
her helmet and another pulls her bike out of the river, still
running. Her next stop is the
ambulance and the ICU, unconscious, with a major concussion,
and a dislocated elbow broken in three places. Jan remembers
waking up to reporters at her bedside waiting for the finish
on the story.
It was a bad crash. Jan retired from stunt work at age 22.
She still got her fair share of high altitude by painting
flagpoles. She was a martial arts instructor for 20
years. She's revisiting her daredevil career this year, researching,
recollecting and trading information, and invites you to email
her at firstname.lastname@example.org.
As for Evel's comeback? It's been cool.
"I finally got to meet him at the Galpin event and he signed my book! Evel Knievel is the ultimate daredevil," says
Jan. "I remember most other jumpers, the men, were jealous."
A Stuntman in his Mind
First thing you gotta know about Evel BowEvel is that he
is a stuntman in his MIND.
BowEvel (his friends call him Hans) is very clear on this
- inside his own brain
he has routinely risked certain death and emerged victorious.
This is his gig: a stuntman in his mind, and singer, songwriter
and bandleader for San Diego's BowEvel Brothers, complete
with his brother Fritz BowEvel and guitar-picking good buddy
Last June, these were the guys who strummed "I Will
Survive" inside the Galpin Ford Showroom during the comeback
announcement of Hans's personal hero for over
thirty years - the indestructable dangernaut named Evel Knievel.
"I've got all my life to live, I've got all my love
to give, I will survive, I WILL SURVIVE - HEY, HEY!"
The BowEvel Brothers' vocalizing fills the
showroom where Evel and Galpin customs man Beau Boeckmann
are debuting the Evel Knievel Galpinized Ford F-150 "Gladiator"
tribute truck. As Hans and the boys play, the guest of honor
breaks into the now-notorious dance moves known as "The
Even Evel's oldest friends are shaking their heads in amazement.
We've all seen him do some crazy things before, but dancing?
Evel is back, all right, BIG TIME.
BowEvel was also at Evel's right hand when the legend announced
AN ALL-NEW ULTIMATE JUMP, RAMPING UP FOR 2003. It was a red-letter
day in daredevil history.
As soon as I filed my story from Galpin, I dialed up Hans
to get his story.
Here's a guy whose Aunt Lillian made him his first Knievel
costume in 6th grade, and Uncle Jack painted the helmet to
match. He first meets his hero in person in April of 1989,
when a bunch of Knievel fans fly out to Vegas to see Evel's
son Robbie jump the fountains at Caesar's Palace - and vindicate
his father's disastrous wipe-out of December 31st, 1967.
Picture Hans on the strip in costume, the jumpsuit, the V
on his chest, the helmet, the cane, the shoot from the hip
and take no lip attitude. Somebody sees him strutting his
stuff in the land of the electric lotus and says, hey buddy,
come on over to the bar at Caesar's. Sure enough, Hans is
led to the court of Caesar and a genuine Caesar is who he
meets. Evel looks up from his booth with private phone, sees
Evel BowEvel and says, "I'm taking a picture with you."
It's the beginning of a beautiful friendship. Hans is sitting
there going, "I can't believe I'm having a drink with
Since then their paths have crossed many times. There was
Robbie's jump in Lake Elsinore, CA in '96. Then in 1999 when
Robbie Knievel prepared to jump a Wile E. Coyote-class ravine
near the Grand Canyon, the BowEvels were there by the campfire,
invited by the Kaptain himself, singing up a storm in praise
of the greatest bloodline in cycle-jumping history.
But the coolest thing about Hans is he's not just an ultra-fan,
he's also a brinksman. If somebody gives him any shit, he's
ready to throw down - and as
the Romans knew, those Germanic barbarians, even the skinny
ones, can give you hell. Let's put it this way, Hans completely
digs Evel's amigos like the Castines, and guys like daredevil
Doug Klang and cycle-jumping champ Louis Re, who are cool
to him, but expresses disgust at those sorry offenders inside
the Knievel crew he recalls tried to sabotage him.
Despite - or maybe because of - semi-official sanctioning
for BowEvel pride from father and son Knievel, a couple of
haters inside Robbie's tech team even tried to have Hans kicked
off the Arizona landing site.
"I'll tell Gary he's an asshole man to man. I will take
him outside and punch him in the face. Billy is also an asshole.
I'll say it to their face." He's gone from happy-go-lucky
to serious - he will fight them if they try to stop him from
doing his thing. BowEvel, a man of elemental passions and
stone-carved grudges, just like the original player himself,
code name EK-1.
And oh yeah, Hans also hates Fox TV and their "Death
Jump Goons," an aversion shared at Five-O and by everyone
who remembers the legacy of Evel's primetime point man, the
great Howard Cosell.
I'm telling you, Evel Central Command, what about Jason Priestley???
He'd be perfect
to help call your big jump - especially after eating the wall
in a racecar and graduating from actor to bona fide Man of
Action! And Mr. T! He whipped cancer and he would bring a
whole new dimension to calling the jump. Only please, please,
no standard bone-heads from Fox!
Anyway, in 2000, the BowEvels play their hero new songs commemorating
his "Wild Turkey and wild romance." That's at the
Del Mar Mile, where Evel is master of ceremonies. It was scarcely
a year after the liver transplant that saved the all-time
great's life. Suddenly being Mini-Me to the Master of Disaster
isn't a dead end street at all. Now being the daredevil-king's
court jester and traveling minstrel is a promising vocation,
as wide open as Big Sky Country under the stars.
It all comes together in mid-May of 2002, when Hans joins
the rally ride from Vegas to Primm, NV, for the groundbreaking
at The Evel Knievel Experience gaming and entertainment center.
That's where Evel, age 63, busts out the unthinkable announcement:
"I am going to jump again."
Nobody knew, says Hans. The first time Evel's closest friends
hear anything about this is right there at the ground-breaking.
I'm tripping, says Hans - flabbergasted at the lack of communication
in the crew. He's asking Evel's old guard, you guys seriously
Talk about a man apart. Evel dropped his bombshell on the
audience and his own inner circle at the same time.
That sets the stage for the Galpin event two weeks later.
This time, Evel BowEvel has his idol's back when the big man
announces, "I'm going to have a long, long runway where
ever I choose
to jump, and I'm going to jump the fastest, safest, best manufactured
motorcycle in the world that right now I am testing. These
young guys jump these little ring ding Hondas or Yamahas or
whatever that is, they have great suspension, but I am going
to jump a big V-Twin just like I used to jump. And when I
get ready to go I hope you're all there. Stay on the take
off side and when I take off, blow like hell you'll get me
Super Dave Osborne
"You don't want to see how my last
Evel Knievel, the King of the Daredevils, made many tremendous
jumps on his motorcycle. But he also crashed and was hospitalized
on many occasions. "Super Dave" Osborne also does
death-defying stunts. Unlike Evel, he crashes every single
time. Yet he has never been injured. How can that happen?
It's because "Super Dave" Osborne is comedian Bob
Einstein, who has made a career out of crashing and burning
Einstein, brother of filmmaker Albert Brooks (born Albert
Einstein), has played the self-absorbed, bumbling, incompetent,
deadpan daredevil since he first appeared on the short-lived
series "Van Dyke and Company" with Dick Van Dyke
in 1976. He then appeared semi-regularly on the John Byner
hosted cable show "Bizarre" in 1980.
Einstein's act goes like this. "Super Dave" comes
out, dressed in a leather jumpsuit directly ripped off from
Evel Knievel, complete with a cap with "SD" printed
on it, and sets up his latest stunt, which he says didn't
quite go as planned. The stunt usually has "Super
Dave" participating in some outrageous maneuver, sometimes
involving trucks, cars, cycles - maybe he's standing on top
of a moving semi-truck traveling at a high rate of speed,
or something equally dangerous, like high voltage.
That's the set-up, but then they edit a "Super Dave"
dummy into the shot, which violently crashes, sending limbs
and body parts in ridiculous directions they don't usually
go, for a semi-humorous result which looks completely fake.
After the laugh-track asisted pay-off, "Super Dave"
is embarrassed by the mishap and, in a deadpan fashion, comments
on how he does so many stunts that do work well and here the
host had to show the one that didn't.
As Evel's career gave way to retirement, "Super Dave"
parlayed his frequent "Bizarre" appearances into
many guest appearances on Late Night with
David Letterman; the Showtime animated television series "Super
Dave" from 1987 to 1992; the television specials "Super
Dave All-Stars" (1997) and "Super Dave Osborne's
Vegas Spectacular" (1998), feature film "Be The
Man" (1998) and the straight-to-video feature film "The
Extreme Adventures of Super Dave" in 2000. Einstein has
appeared on television as someone other than "Super Dave"
only twice since 1980.
Right now he's the TV pitchman for Cerritos Auto Square,
with a pretty cool gag: he pretends to be their inept competition.
For example, the Cerritos Auto Square is filled with beautiful
cars. Cut to SDO, who's sitting alone in an empty lot. "It's
going to be great, all the cars are on their way," he
promises. Then of course, sub in the dummy, who is mashed
underneath a huge, rolling car-carrier.
Super Dave Osborne was on Jimmy Kimmel Live on Friday. He
was run over by a bus while in his "prayer tent"
during a taped rehearsal for a motorcycle jump over several
>>Read "New World Evel"
The Story That Rocked America. <<
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