The Wall of Death

If you’re lucky enough to witness a Wall of Death show you’ll know the intoxicating mixture of wonder and terror as heartstopping stunts are performed under your nose. Sara Whatley met with Jake Messham, a star rider and motorcycle trickster

Wall of Death rider extraordinaire Jake Messham belts past me on his motorbike, mere inches from my face. I can feel the throb of the bike under my feet; hear the sound of the wooden boards clacking as he rumbles over them and the monstrous roaring of engines. My nose is filled with the heady aroma of fuel and we are all cast under the dramatic red light of the circus-striped tent over our heads. This is one of the most extraordinary spectacles I have ever witnessed; I was looking down from the top of a 20 foot high wooden drum, uttering expletives under my breath as a motorbike rode vertically round in circles, the rider dipping and diving, scraping dangerously close to the cable at the top and performing death-defying tricks as he went; no hands, side-saddle, legs over the handlebars kind of thing. It should not be possible, but with a cunning mixture of friction and centrifugal force it very much is. “It’s just natural now,” Jake laughed later on, “like driving a bike along the road.” But then he would say that; Jake has been doing shows on the wall since he was 14. “I started riding a motorbike when I was I can feel the throb of the bike under my feet; 11, but as kids we practiced on the track and got used to it on pushbikes. You can do more damage coming off a pushbike hear the sound of the though, you break things!” wooden boards clacking and the monstrous The Wall of Death show came to England from the United States in 1929 and the Messham family have owned roaring of engines one since 1931. Orton and Spooner,

famous manufacturers of fairground rides, built some of the first walls in the UK. Jake revealed he still has their first wall in his yard, but it’s a bit rotten now. “It’s of no real value, just sentimental to us,” he said. Their new wall is painted up the same way, so you’d never know the difference.

Back in the day the daredevil nature of these shows meant their popularity exploded and quickly there were Walls of Death all over, with showmanship in fierce competition. Animals were introduced to ride in sidecars and both men and women riders upped their game with new and daring tricks. The Second World War put an end to all that, and the animals disappeared along with many of the shows. Apparently, there are only three Wall of Death shows performing in the UK these days, Messham’s Wall of Death being one of them.

This legacy has been passed down through the generations; Jake Messham is fourth generation and his boys will be the fifth. “My two younger brothers will be the next – they are nearly on the wall – they just need a bit more practice,” he said.

Jake and his wife, Carly have two young sons, Maddox and Greyson, who is five. Part of the show I saw included Greyson riding his little Indian bike around the lower ramped section of the wall, but if his bike battery was fully charged, his parents said he would be right up there. “What are you gonna’ be when you’re older?” his dad

Jake Messham with son Greyson They are majestic beasts with wide handlebars and an accommodating leather seat

asked him. “Wall of death rider,” he answered, looking gleefully thrilled and desperate to get on that wall.

Actually getting the practice is hard for them now the wall is not the family’s full time business; there is not enough time between shows and it’s not up in one place for long enough. Off season they do try to set it up, but it’s not always easy. Jake only got where he is today following a 90-day stint they did in South Korea in 2006, when the family were touring the show. “That’s when I got a lot of practice in and started doing tricks on the Indian,” he said. That’s also where he met his wife, Carly, who was a showgirl touring with the circus at the time. “Big Las Vegas feathers and shoes,” she said with a smile. “It was good.”

We stood on the floor of the drum after the show had finished, in amongst the bikes and the money scattered on the chequers, thrown down by the audience above to help with insurance costs which are, as one might imagine for a show such as this, astronomical. “It’s unlucky to sweep it up, we’ve got to pick it all up by hand,” explained Jake. Usually they leave it all until the end of the day, but in South Korea where the currency is the South Korean Won and a £1,000 note is worth similar to a £1 coin, apparently the floor was so littered with notes by the end of each show the

bikes were slipping about. “We had to quickly pick it all up and stuff it into bags. We used to get a taxi back to the hotel and ram it in the safe in our room. It was stuffed full but worth peanuts!” he said.

There are other superstitions that linger inside this wall as well: when you drive down the ramp you have to bring the bike in facing the direction you ride (counter-clockwise) otherwise it’s unlucky, and if you do come in the wrong way you have to go right round and out, turn around and bring it back in. ‘Blue and green must never be seen’ is another superstition which has been in their family for a long time. “These things usually start if there was a crash or something and it was on a blue bike,” explained Carly.

I was standing next to an Indian Scout bike emblazoned with ‘Rock on Tommy’ across the tank; “That belonged to uncle Tommy. It’s been passed on through generations; my second cousin got that for his 18th birthday, he’s not with us now, then it passed on to us. Tommy stopped riding the wall; he lost the feel for it. He got into the fairground side of it.”

Indian Scout bikes have been the preferred motorcycle to ride on the wall since the 1920s. They are majestic beasts with wide handlebars and an accommodating leather seat. It’s a very upright position Jake adopts to ride the wall and as he starts his tricks, his ability to move across the bike is mesmerising. “Dad helped along the way but Charles Winter, the old boy who is the Spieler for us now, he taught us a lot. He’s worked for the family for over 35 years. He knows pretty much everything. Charles took the show to Malaysia in the 90s.”

When Uncle Tommy lost the feel for the wall it had a hiatus in storage, to come out again when Jake and his brothers were of age. “Charles had a few of the bikes in storage. He did a lot of work on the bikes and started it up again. Charles still does a lot of maintenance because he knows everything about the bikes, but Junior, my younger brother, he’s pretty mechanically minded. I just ride them!” Jake laughed.

Looking at the tyres of Jake’s Indian, it’s clear to see they have got uneven wear, to put it mildly. In reality they are totally smooth on one side. “That’s how we like ‘em!” he smiled. “Takes years to get it like that, we need them like that for the tricks. We spin them around; that will come off the front and go on the back and the one on the back will be worn enough to go on the front… you’ll get years out of that. The one that came off a few years ago was on there for 30 years – not worn out just perished.”

Up on the wall they ride at between 20 and 25 miles per hour, but it feels much faster when you’re standing close by. “Any faster and you start blacking out and get too dizzy,” said Jake. The riders are also pulling about 4 g up there, which Jake said you can feel in

your arms by the end of the day. “It takes its toll on his body especially on busy days when we do show after show after show,” added Carly.

“You do get used to it, it’s just the adrenaline, keeps you going and you enjoy it. But when it comes to Sunday night and you’ve been doing that for two or three days, then you’ve got to take it all down,” said Jake. That’s the other part of this life: showman stunt rider one minute and wall constructor and dismantler the next. There are over 800 pieces that make up the wall, including the stage at the front, the stairs and handrails, the wall itself and the huge signage. They do it all themselves, but not all performers want to get dirty. “We’ve taught loads of riders over the years who want to be superstars, but it’s not like that. Sometime you’re up to your axles in mud and pouring rain. It’s an achievement building this up in a day,” said Jake proudly.

He continued, “When I was a kid, we used to move every weekend. We have got another wall; we travelled two walls at one point, that was when my older brother rode with us as well. He doesn’t ride anymore, too many crashes. He’s got a really bad back and busted his legs.” Ah yes, the crashes. It’s time to find out how dangerous this really is.

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“I’ve had a few,” Jake said, and matter-offactly guided me through his injuries: broken ankle in three places, broken collar bone, chopped off finger, handle bar through the arm… “Anything can happen; engine seize up, puncture, bit of water, bit of oil on the wall. The worst thing you get when you come off is burns from sliding along the wall. I had one from there to my feet,” he says, gesturing from the top of his back. “I let me hands go; I was standing on the back of the bike, bike wobbled a bit, throttle opened up, pushed me over the back of the bike. We didn’t have any mudguards on the back, so I got caught on the wheel.”

And what happens to the bike when the rider comes off? Well, gravity tries to pull the rider back in so the most important thing is to push the bike away, and hope for the best. “Ninety percent of the time you can get away with it,” smiled Jake.

There is not much money in this, they freely admit. In fact, Carly called it an expensive hobby. But they clearly love it, and the kids seem to love it too. “They go off and play on the fairground rides and come back when they’re hungry,” said Carly. “Then we sit round of an evening, have some food and drinks.”

It seems to be the heady mix of adrenaline, family history, the thrill of it – which Jake says he doesn’t think he’ll ever loose – and the showmanship that keeps this show running. The Jake ‘Blue and green must that’s talking to me as his kids and never be seen’ is another superstition family run circles around the floor is modest, miles away from the showman who rides daringly for the thrill of a which has been in two hundred plus audience, eliciting their family for a long time gasps of disbelief and thrilled pleasure as he performs his tricks then takes to the wall with two other riders for the finale of the show. They weave and chase each other then fall in line and regally hold up their left hands. Like the thrumming rev of an engine, he can turn his showmanship on and off. The clock was ticking, and the next show was approaching. As we walked out of the wall into the dazzling sunshine the queue was snaking far into the field. Jake got on to the static bike on the stage, arms held high, fingers poised and a crowd-pleasing smile on his face and gave the waiting crowd a taste of what was to come. Over the loud-speakers Charles shared the history of the show and lured punters in with the death-defying excitement of it all. Scan the QR code to see “We’ve enjoyed doing it, then we Jake in death-defying can pass it on,” Jake told me, but for action at the Sussex now, he looks extremely happy just Living website where he. Messham’s Wall of Death is, paradoxically, where he is most alive. l