TINY PAINT GRAZES CAN BE HARD TO FIX
It isn’t about the paint; it’s about the prep.
I’ve written before about the moral logistics of parking lot dents and scrapes, but what is really involved in reversing the damage? Why does something that looks so slight — a scratch, a nudge — seemingly end up costing more than a Superbowl ad?
I decided the best way to find out was to get some hands-on experience. Pfaff Autoworks in Vaughan, Ont., was kind enough to let me get in the way, get dirty and learn something. It was eyeopening.
The Honda Civic we hoisted was displaying a common sight: the bumper’s silver paint torn down to primer and plastic, a little ragged but not cracked or terribly bent. That should be a quick fix, right? Not if you do it right.
I was working with Pfaff’s Mike Browne, who by the end of the day I was calling Michelangelo — he’s that good.
Before it gets to a Mike, however, the damaged car goes to an estimator. At Pfaff, there is a formula to this, contrary to what some believe and others have experienced. The estimate takes into consideration if the part has to come off (the Civic’s bumper did), if there is repair work, how many hours to allot, and then the prep.
“Don’t be fooled by the size or shape of a scratch,” Browne says. “More important is the depth, and how many components are affected.”
They can opt to just repair and prep the affected area, or they can prep and paint the entire panel. Both are options; you know which one looks best.
When it’s an insurance claim, there is often a “bargaining” point; the shop knows how many hours the work usually takes, the adjuster may have a different number, and they end up splitting the difference.
Most of us have painted a room. You know it’s the prep work — the sanding, the filling, the sanding, the cleaning, and more sanding — that takes the most time, but makes all the difference. The painting is easy, but if you’ve skipped the first steps, you’re slapping a wig on a pig; a lovely paint job will highlight every flaw and scar, not hide it. So it is with a car.
The bumper had been pushed out of alignment, creating a noticeable bulge. I presumed this would be a costly worry. Not really. After removing the bumper (attached with a handful of clips and bolts), a heat gun held on a few spots for a few moments made the plastic malleable enough to be worked back into shape. And then we started sanding.
And sanding. And sanding. Beginning with a 120-grit aluminum oxide paper, you sand the entire bumper to remove the shine and even out the damaged areas. Using a hand sander, you work until your hand is numb from the vibration. Well, my hand, anyway.
Then you start working by hand into all the nooks. There are a lot of nooks. Every time you say, “Is this good enough?” you are told no. Even when Mike says it’s good enough, he goes over it all again himself. I think he’s being a little picky, really.
When the entire bumper is clear — you’re working by feel as much as by sight — it’s time for primer. After a wash, we tape untargeted areas, The piece will be sprayed with three layers of paint and two types of primer; about 10 minutes to dry in between hits, but 45 minutes at the end. We skip lunch, because I’m starting to understand just how much time this is going to take.
Back in the bay, we take to the sanders again. The primer has dried to a marbled pattern; using a 240-grit, we’re now taking off that top layer. The idea is, the three layers of primer have built the plastic back up in the damaged areas so we can bring them level to the undamaged areas.
Any warp or dip, while seemingly slight in this matte finish, will be pronounced under the gloss of the final paint. If you settle for “good enough” at this point, you’ll fall far short of good in the final reveal.
More hand sanding (both of us), more complaining (me). Mike’s apprentice, Jordan Singer, is cheering me on, mostly because I’m doing some of his grunt work.
After what feels like a lunchless eternity, it is finally deemed ready for the next phase. Using a 600 grit, the final sanding is a wet one. The piece is sponged clean, thoroughly dried and taped again for the final painting. We’ve been at this nearly six hours, though I know I’ve slowed things down a little.
Just like at Home Depot, there are levels of paint quality and limitless colours. Pfaff offers a lifetime warranty on their work and uses top-of-the-line paints.
Cheaper paints and improper prep work can lead to peeling and fading. It’s an awful lot of work to have to do it again, and even getting it cheap is costly if it looks like hell.
The paint booth is set between 90 and 100 degrees F. When we chose the paint colour, Mike held up a raft of silver chips that all looked to me like they matched. Dozens of them. He noted that while there is a Honda silver that corresponds to the year and model of the car, paint colours differ by factory. From a $50,000 rack of customizable BASF paint, there is nothing they can’t match.
Eight different tints are added to the base (even pink) and Mike suits up like an astronaut to enter the paint booth. Two coats of colour end up providing great coverage; dry time in between is about 20 minutes, and then comes the final clear coat. Most paints are water based, so this clear coat is in fact the biggest line of defence between your car and the elements.
We spent about eight hours using top-quality materials to do a job that would be estimated around $500 to $700. The car is a 2013, has been well cared for, and those repaired bumpers are the best looking thing on it. Even taking into account my interference, the only gouging on that car took place in the parking lot when it was hit.
What’s remarkable is the amount of work that goes into this fix that you don’t see; but if it isn’t done properly, it’s the only thing you will see. That’s why Mike is so picky.