Diary of a framebuilder

Location:  a cold workshop with a rusty tin roof.  Halfway up a French mountain, next to the forest.

Is that blood on that tube?  Oh.  One day I might build a frame without bleeding on it.  Better patch up my hand.

Does that tube fit tightly yet?  No, keep filing.  Don’t stop yet but definitely don’t go too far.

This would be faster if I had a mill. Or a lathe.  Or both.  Not sure there’s enough room in here.  I’ll just carry on with the files.  One stroke at a time.   

Light the torch.  Balance the flame.  Bubble up the flux, add some brass.  Wait for the puddle.  Not yet. Not yet.  Now.   Add some more brass.  Flick the flame away and move the frame around a few degrees. Back in with the heat.

I should take a photo for instagram.  Jesus I hate social media. Fuck it, just concentrate on doing the work.

Out with the files again.   Get that fillet good and smooth.  Don’t touch the tube.  Now on with the 80 grit.  Bit more.  Realise I can’t feel my fingertips.  Keep going.  Down to 120 grit. Keep going.  Next fillet.  And the next.  And the next.  Same again, 240 grit.  Is that smooth enough?  No, keep going.

That definitely needs an instagram photo.  Hmm, maybe I’ll just go for a ride instead.