As the new Las Vegas rises up, the old one comes falling down. Which is to say, as more condos rise, it's becoming harder and harder to watch a man bungee-jump from 200 feet while on fire.
Rich Hopkins, who's made a career as a stuntman and daredevil, first performed the stunt 10 years ago. Last Friday he planned to do the fire jump again to commemorate the 10th anniversary of the first jump. And to say good-bye to A.J. Hackett Bungy, the bungee-jumping facility just steps from the Strip that closed over the weekend. The land was sold to developers who will dismantle the bungee tower in the coming months.
At the base of the tower was a swimming pool surrounded by a small yard. Hopkins' crew hurried about, readying the stunt, and his family and friends sat around and made slightly anxious small talk. Occasionally a body plunged out of the night sky with a yell; looking straight up, it was like the bungee- jumpers were floating down from the heavens.
A film crew from Bunim-Murray, producers of The Real World, were also on hand to get some footage for a test tape. "We're interested in Rich as a personality, an entrepreneur," said producer Keith Lee. "We're more interested in his life and personality than his stunts." An unusual thing to say given that Hopkins is soon to turn himself into a flying fireball.
"Everybody can build choppers," the genial Hopkins told me at one point, referring to the popular reality show American Chopper. "I'm doing something completely different each day." Apparently, only Hopkins has performed this stunt.
Hopkins will be on fire, but he won't really be on fire. He'll be wearing two layers of fire-retardant, 40-degree-gel-treated clothing; another, wet layer of clothing, and a burn-proof outer layer. Still there were plenty of dangers. One member of Hopkins' team would be up in the tower with a fire extinguisher; another person will be down below, ready to dive into the pool. Every time I asked someone what's the craziest thing they've seen Hopkins do, they all said the same thing. "This is going to be it."
Before jumping, Hopkins weighed in (186 pounds, plus another 16 pounds of safety clothes and a bucket of gel). The weigh-in was crucial. "The whole concept is to put him into the water up to his knees," said A.J. Hackett, owner of the business that bears his name. (Hackett is no stranger to crazy gags; he jumped from the Eiffel Tower—illegally—in 1987.) The rigging had to be set so that Hopkins came all the way to the ground and splashed down in the pool, where the water would put out the flames.
Hopkins also had to make certain he got his arms extended and locked above his head, for entry into the water. Last time he failed to do that and hit the water like a sledgehammer. "It sucked."
Around 9 o'clock, Hopkins and his crew were ready for a practice jump to test the rigging. No one was nervous, exactly. But tense? Yeah. Especially Cherie Hopkins, a.k.a. Mom. "He came out breech and he's been crazy ever since," she says.
The no-frills bungy tower resembled a white construction crane. Up top, the lights of the city unfolded in every direction. The floor of the jump platform was a grate, so you could look straight down to the ground below. From up there the pool looked like a big enough target for Hopkins to land safely. But the winds had picked up in the last half-hour, and the entire platform was swaying. Worse, off to the north, lightning flashed; it seemed to be getting closer.
The wind meant that Hopkins might miss the pool, and if he did, he'd be in a world of trouble. For one, he'd hit the ground. And if that weren't enough, he'd still be on fire. Hopkins and his crew talked over what to do for maybe 10 minutes, but the wind was blowing a loud message. This ain't gonna happen. Hopkins took a spectacular jump off the tower anyway, barrel rolling as he went down. But at the bottom, he was clearly bummed. The crowd gloomily dispersed. Better safe than sorry, absolutely, though you had the sense this kind of barnstorming thrill was a dying breed on the Strip.
A few days later, the bungee tower shut down for good.
Hackett tried to remind Hopkins that his one jump had been quite good.
"That was so weak," Hopkins responded. "Don't try to cheer me up."