The existence of the "fictional" force that we all know as centrifugal is obviously crucial to Ken Fox and his team. For practical purposes the force is measured in newtons and the number is arrived at by multiplying the mass by the square of the angular velocity and again by the radius of the arc being described - all we really need to know is that enough F is generated to overpower the only too real pull of gravity. The Ken Fox Wall of Death operation runs a fine fleet of Indian Scouts and three rather ropey CB200 Hondas, the latter (I presume the Scouts are too heavy for a three-up) can be seen ripping around this 'drome, three abreast from top to bottom of the wall, the "fictional" force only too apparent as the whole structure sways and creeks under the strain. The fairground showmanship that is such an important part of the scene here is truly a delight and we must do everything we can to stop it being lost. I believe there are only two or three walls travelling the country now. The monotonous, very well worn draw-patter of the ring master employed to entice passing trade into the tent is beautifully dated and no attempt to jazz things up or dumb down the experience has been made. When under way ".. starting any minute ladies & gentlemen - just room for a handful more - .." the performance is truly thrilling, a mixture of awe and fear can be seen on the spectators' faces, nervous applause as the dare-devils tease the top wire with the wheel rims. The Fox troupe is a truly family affair and I strongly recommend you look out for them before the H&S boys kick 'em into touch. MORE FICTION !
