On This Day, 1974: Evel Knievel Tried to Jump the Snake River Canyon
On this day, 8 September 1974, Evel Knievel climbed into a steam-powered rocket called the Skycycle X-2 and attempted to cross Idaho's Snake River Canyon.
It was not really a motorcycle jump. It was not quite a conventional rocket flight either. It was a purpose-built spectacle designed around one extraordinary promise: Evel Knievel would launch himself across a canyon—or millions of people would witness the consequences if he failed.
At 3.36pm local time, the Skycycle accelerated up its steep launch ramp and shot into the Idaho sky. Seconds later, its parachute deployed prematurely. The craft appears to have reached the far side of the canyon, but the open parachute and prevailing wind carried it backwards before it descended near the river on the launch side.
Knievel survived with minor injuries. The event was widely judged a failure.
More than half a century later, however, people are still talking about it. That raises an interesting question: if an unsuccessful stunt remains famous for generations, how unsuccessful was it really?
Why Evel Knievel Chose Snake River Canyon
Knievel had long promoted the idea of jumping the Grand Canyon, but he could not obtain permission. He eventually identified a section of the Snake River Canyon near Twin Falls where private land could be used for the attempt.
This was an essential part of his genius for publicity. The original promise had already established the scale of his ambition. Changing the location did not reduce the drama because the public was buying the idea of a man challenging a vast natural obstacle, not measuring one canyon against another with an Ordnance Survey map.
Knievel leased land, commissioned specialist machinery and turned the proposed crossing into an event. The canyon itself became his opponent.
The Skycycle X-2 Was a Steam-Powered Rocket
Despite its name and motorcycle-style marketing, the Skycycle X-2 was effectively a small rocket vehicle. Engineer Robert Truax developed the machine using steam heated to extreme temperature to generate thrust.
Knievel sat strapped inside a narrow cockpit rather than riding with handlebars, wheels and conventional motorcycle control. For regulatory purposes, the vehicle was treated as an aircraft.
The launch worked. The parachute system did not behave as intended.
When the drogue parachute deployed as the Skycycle left the ramp, it immediately created drag. Images of the flight indicate that the craft crossed the canyon's span, but it could not complete the planned landing. Wind carried it back before it came down only a short distance from the water.
Knievel later said a harness problem could have prevented him escaping had the vehicle landed in the river. The difference between a bruised showman and a fatal ending may have been only a few feet.
The Jump Was an Early Pay-Per-View Spectacle
Snake River was designed for an audience far larger than the crowd gathered in Idaho. Paid closed-circuit coverage was distributed to hundreds of theatres and arenas across North America, effectively creating a large-scale pay-per-view event before domestic streaming, social media or online subscriptions existed.
The build-up was part of the product. Newspapers, television appearances, toys, costumes and Knievel's own relentless promotion ensured that people knew the character before the rocket left the ramp.
The flight lasted only seconds. The anticipation had been selling for years.
That may be the most important lesson of Snake River. Knievel understood that spectacle begins long before the action and survives long after the result. A successful landing would have completed the story, but failure did not destroy it. The early parachute merely supplied a different ending.
Did Evel Knievel Fail at Snake River Canyon?
As a crossing, the attempt failed. Knievel did not land safely on the opposite rim, and paying audiences expecting a clean leap had every reason to feel disappointed.
As publicity, it succeeded magnificently.
The name Evel Knievel became permanently linked with the canyon. The ramp remains visible near Twin Falls, and the story has inspired documentaries, museum displays and later attempts. In 2016, stuntman Eddie Braun successfully crossed the canyon in a rocket constructed using the original concept, demonstrating how close the 1974 attempt may have been to working.
Knievel sold the possibility that something extraordinary might happen. That possibility included disaster—and audiences understood it.
On this day in 1974, the parachute opened too soon and the Skycycle came down on the wrong side. Yet Evel Knievel achieved something algorithms now pursue every minute: he captured mass attention, turned spectators into participants and ensured that even failure would be remembered.
Later today, Motorbike Mad will examine how Evel Knievel went viral before social media existed—and why his organised theatre was fundamentally different from dangerous public-road stunts performed for online views.