PROJECT BLACKBURNES
Rick’s quest to finish building three ’20s machines for Xmas
Ihaven’t spent so much time staring blankly into space since my O-levels. Scratch-building a rear frame is something I’ve never done before and it’s taken hours of thought, checking, doublechecking and head scratching. When I came up with the idea of recreating ‘The Scarlet Runner’, a 1914 Brooklands racer, I expected to farm this bit out to an expert. What stopped me was partly the 2020 lockdown, but also cost. Getting something TIG welded up to support the back wheel wouldn’t be too bad, but I’m too fussy – I wanted as close a replica as possible and that would be very expensive.
Since a big job is really just a series of little jobs – and I understand the theory – I decided to waste my time rather than my money and do it myself; thankfully it worked out, but it turned into another full-on month, mainly because I forgot one of my golden rules – never assume anything.
After carefully checking the rear frame was true in all planes, I made a couple of strategic tack welds, slid the tubes snugly onto their stubs and bolted the frame together. Miles out! The back wheel leaned over and steered to one side. Measurements indicated the front frame was straight – but if both bits were right, what was wrong?
‘Well, that tank bracket’s not straight,’ observed partner Judy, using the same accurate eye that scrutinises my household DIY work.
“Of course it’s straight,” I replied wearily. “That’s factory original...” But she was right. Although the rear bracket (luckily, the one I’ve been using as a horizon) is perpendicular to the steering head, the front isn’t. I’d assumed factory work would be spot on... could there be other mistakes?
Well, the through-bolts for the rear engine plates weren’t drilled straight. I only have one original plate and now realise what I assumed were worn holes had been factory-drilled oversize so the engine could be shoogled about to fit, with more holes drilled and locking dowels hammered in later. The plate holes I carefully copied only match one side and that’s why nothing fits.
But even after welding up the plate holes and re-drilling one by one to suit the frame, the rear wheel still leaned over! I was tearing my hair out until a moment of sanity suggested I check the rear wheel spindle; it was slightly bent and making a new one sorted it.
But to sign off the rear end I needed to check wheel alignment, which meant
properly assembling the front end. The forks are a miscellany of odd bits – the top yoke was too wide, the fork stem too short and there was no handlebar mount. I managed to extend the stem and fabricated a custom top yoke from scrap BSA parts which includes a sturdy handlebar mounting – with the integrity of the chassis in doubt, I certainly don’t want the bars coming off in my hands... Now confident everything was straight, I tack-welded the frame at all the joints, allowing me at last to take it off the bench and wheel it about. (Um, yes... also sit on it and make BRRR-BRRR!! noises.)
What’s made this so hard is that it’s a combination of two brain disciplines: it’s a 3D puzzle – like a Rubik’s cube, while looking at one aspect you need to consider the view from behind, above and below – but it’s also a chess tournament and your every move could begin a series of events that unavoidably lose you the game.
Now I know Christmas was my deadline – but as I write that’s still three weeks away, so it ain’t over yet! This has been a bit of a nutty endeavour and I’m feeling pretty knackered – but I’m also very happy with the result. If you want to see more depth on the rebuilds, I’ve put extra info on my Classic Bike Workshop site: rickparkington.co.uk
‘AT LAST I COULD TAKE THE CHASSIS OFF THE BENCH AND WHEEL IT ABOUT’