Carriage restoration isn't really a linear process. It's a procession of decisions made on a day to day basis, and feeling free to change your mind about how to go about a thing, if a better solution comes to mind before you're totally committed to your first idea.
For us amateurs and first-time restorers, the decision making process is much more painful, because we don't have the experience to anticipate the consequences of our choices, and the making of a correct decision automatically in any given situation has not yet become instinctive. We have to try harder not to make mistakes, but we don't automatically know when we're right, and when we're wrong.
I once knew a jack-of-all-trades, a clever and meticulous workman who was skilled with wood, metal and auto finishing. He elected to go into the carriage business, taught himself how to make wheels, etc. and began charging for his work.
He took on the restoration of a dilapidated rockaway and did a spectacular job of restoring the vehicle, repairing all the split panels, etc., doing a great job of buttoned upholstery - including the ceiling - and finishing with a splendid - lacquer - paint job.
The lacquer, highly unsuited to carriage work, disintegrated almost immediately. I think that was the end of his career in carriage restoration. The catastrophic failure of his meticulous paint job was too much for him to bear, and probably caused him a great deal of mischief with the rockaway's owners.
So don't be discouraged if you find the decision making very difficult. We'll get through this together.
Since a horse drawn vehicle is a collection of assemblies and sub-assemblies, each one has to be evaluated individually, using several criteria, in deciding whether to repair or replace or simply leave alone. For instance, three wheels of a carriage "look" sound to you, but a spoke is broken on the fourth. What should you do?
For us amateurs and first-time restorers, the decision making process is much more painful, because we don't have the experience to anticipate the consequences of our choices, and the making of a correct decision automatically in any given situation has not yet become instinctive. We have to try harder not to make mistakes, but we don't automatically know when we're right, and when we're wrong.
I once knew a jack-of-all-trades, a clever and meticulous workman who was skilled with wood, metal and auto finishing. He elected to go into the carriage business, taught himself how to make wheels, etc. and began charging for his work.
He took on the restoration of a dilapidated rockaway and did a spectacular job of restoring the vehicle, repairing all the split panels, etc., doing a great job of buttoned upholstery - including the ceiling - and finishing with a splendid - lacquer - paint job.
The lacquer, highly unsuited to carriage work, disintegrated almost immediately. I think that was the end of his career in carriage restoration. The catastrophic failure of his meticulous paint job was too much for him to bear, and probably caused him a great deal of mischief with the rockaway's owners.
So don't be discouraged if you find the decision making very difficult. We'll get through this together.
Since a horse drawn vehicle is a collection of assemblies and sub-assemblies, each one has to be evaluated individually, using several criteria, in deciding whether to repair or replace or simply leave alone. For instance, three wheels of a carriage "look" sound to you, but a spoke is broken on the fourth. What should you do?
- Decide whether you are knowledgeable enough to judge the condition of ALL the wheels, remembering that they may be 100 years old, "rode hard and put away wet."
- Decide what the consequences of failure of ANY wheel would be if only one wheel is sent to a professional wheelwright for evaluation and repair or replacement.
- Decide whether you are qualified to make repairs that may affect soundness.
- Decide whether you'd just feel safer if a professional evaluated and rebuilt the entire set of wheels.
When faced with a worn or broken part:
- Would this part cause a catastrophic event if it failed? (A wheel yes, worn upholstery, no.)
- Do I have the skill to repair or re-make (can you weld, can you select replacement woods and shape them, can you machine/fabricate/cast metal?)
- Can I buy it new? (Many times the answer is yes)
- Can someone else make me a new one better than I can?
- Can it just be patched up to look nice and be safe? (A broken shaft replaced, or repaired with a tubular metal shaft end, which are sold new).
How about dismantling wood and metal parts?
- Will I damage or destroy the wood if I try to remove this riveted-on piece of metal?
- Despite looking okay on the outside, has this bolt rusted in half inside the wood?
- How do I get this frozen screw out of the wood without having to wreck the wood?
- Can I ignore this one little area of dry rot when the rest of the wood is sound?
If a repair is warranted, what materials do I use?
- Ooooh, that's a good one. Lots of bad decisions have been made here that have guaranteed premature failure.
Many people have sent their old carriage out to someone else for "complete restoration" and gotten back a bright, shiny paint job that hides a plethora of ill-advised patchwork repairs.
If you are "doing" your first carriage, you'll probably make some sub-optimal decisions somewhere, your facilities and tools, not to mention your technique, may not be up to doing a first class job, but that shouldn't stop you from doing your best and rescuing an old relic from obscurity or destruction, not to mention having the pleasure of using it! Just try to remember in all your efforts that safety and soundness come first; shortcuts for the sake of expedience will always backfire.
SO! With that train of thought finally pulling into the station...
This is the story of what happens when you decide to save old parts, then decide you made a mistake, then decide maybe you DIDN'T make a mistake, then end up throwing two weeks of work into the garbage can.
In the last post I had decided to save the shaft cross bar, and at least covered a little useful territory on paint removal and screw extraction. I was still at odds about what to do about the irons; should I fit them to the new shafts, or should I buy new...assuming the new irons would fit the new wood.
Never assume anything.
I had first decided to try using a fancier pair from a different set of shafts.
The new wood arrived, and I decided there was too much bending involved to work with the cast irons. Using the irons from the shafts I was replacing was the next choice. After all, they'd be shaped to fit the old cross bar, at least.
Now, I've got a problem with my work flow again.
I did most of the bending on one shaft iron to fit its new wood before I cleaned the metal.
Heat and a wire wheel revealed two beautifully hand made pieces of work. I'm so happy I decided to save the old originals!
SO! With that train of thought finally pulling into the station...
This is the story of what happens when you decide to save old parts, then decide you made a mistake, then decide maybe you DIDN'T make a mistake, then end up throwing two weeks of work into the garbage can.
In the last post I had decided to save the shaft cross bar, and at least covered a little useful territory on paint removal and screw extraction. I was still at odds about what to do about the irons; should I fit them to the new shafts, or should I buy new...assuming the new irons would fit the new wood.
Never assume anything.
I had first decided to try using a fancier pair from a different set of shafts.
The new wood arrived, and I decided there was too much bending involved to work with the cast irons. Using the irons from the shafts I was replacing was the next choice. After all, they'd be shaped to fit the old cross bar, at least.
Now, I've got a problem with my work flow again.
I did most of the bending on one shaft iron to fit its new wood before I cleaned the metal.
Heat and a wire wheel revealed two beautifully hand made pieces of work. I'm so happy I decided to save the old originals!
until...
Until I am well into re-bending the iron (with heat) and
drilling holes in the new wood to match the irons...
and I come across this...
Yes, that little crack through the bolt hole. No bother, I think, I'll just take it to the welder. Only it turns out it's not that easy. You see, wrought iron, which we're assuming this is, has a bad habit of crystallizing, which is going to make arc welding highly unsatisfactory, and render the entire part potentially unsafe, owing to the particular position of this crack, which is in the curve of the shaft heel*. Unfortunately, there is a similar crack starting in the same position hole on the other iron. Given the extensive wear throughout the entire sub-assembly known as "shafts", I finally had to admit - with the concurrence of more knowledgeable restorers - that these parts HAVE to be replaced for the sake of safety.
To hell with it. I tossed the crossbar and singletree too. That is of course AFTER I had decided to do some repairs to the crossbar, struggle to remove all the hardware from it, strip it, and fit it to the shafts.
All in the trash. What I have to show for it is a budding case of tendinitis in both arms from all the pounding, and another delay while I wait for the new parts to arrive.
The biggest decision one has to make is whether to admit your first decision(s) cost you a lot of time and effort that didn't pay off.
Conservation is one thing. Rehabbing an old buggy to put it back into service is another. The decision that favors safety is the one that counts the most.
*For extensive information about wrought iron, visit Real Wrought Iron, Ltd.
*For extensive information about wrought iron, visit Real Wrought Iron, Ltd.
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