My Evel Knievel died horribly in a fireball that nearly took the house with it (couldn't sit down for a week when me mum found out). But the bike lived on through countless terrifying ordeals, with a host of unwilling pilots (usually my sister's dolls) strapped to the seat.
Ah, simpler days...
How many times did itake the skin off my knuckles winding the k bike to go as fast as poss ..
tv was so neglected in those days lol
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