Haliburton School of Art & Design: Blacksmithing

 I've been wanting to refamiliarize myself with metal work for some time.  I don't like farming out work that I'm capable of doing myself and there was a point early in my working life when I was welding weekly as part of my millwright apprenticeship, but I haven't joined metal in over three decades. It's amazing how the time flies when quantum cyber research gets in the way.

Finding opportunities to develop these DIY technical skills in Canada where people don't like to DIY is a challenge. The only welding courses I could find were full-bore certificate courses for professionals, but then my wife found the Haliburton School of Art & Design. HSAD takes place in Haliburton, which you'll have heard about on TMD before because it's one of my favourite places to go for a ride in Ontario. It's also only about three hours from home.

HSAD offers piles of course options ranging from visual arts to technical crafts. If you're reading this you'll probably be interested in the blacksmithing course, not necessarily for the smithing but because it offers you access to expert metal workers in a fully tooled shop that will make you hands-on familiar with not only the hot forging of metal but also various other related technologies such as welding, grinding, polishing and plasma cutting. The three of us went up for the week with me doing the smithing, my son glass blowing and my wife water colour painting.

We were asked to bring a project, but what you really need to do for this is to start amassing ideas so when you're in the forge you've got a list to go after, that way you're not wasting time in front of a hot forge wondering what to do next. I showed up with my copy of the Rudge Book of the Road and an idea to build a metal sculpture of the line art in the front of the book.

My blacksmithing experience consists of an afternoon, so I thought this would take me the week, but by the end of day one I'd already worked out the rider in hot steel and started worrying that I'd run out of project.

I figured getting handy with welding would take a some time, but I forgot to take into account technological progression. Back in the day (in the late 1980s) when I was learning how to weld it was all stick (and no MIG carrot). It took about 15 minutes for Amie to talk me through the MIG process and ten minutes later I was tacking pieces together to get my layout right. No sparking a rod to see where you are either with modern instantly darkening welding helmets. Early efforts at joining pieces were messy but by Thursday I was knocking together pieces at will with clean welds. It's now just a  matter of practice to get back to a point where my joins are a point of pride.

Monday was a real hot-box with temps in the mid-thirties. In the forge it was well into the forties and I was drenched when I left. I should have shown up with better heat management methods and was very dehydrated when I left. I recovered as best I could overnight. The next morning I was still not feeling well but got myself in, got a handle on welding and put the rest of the design together.

I woke up Wednesday properly sick with the mother of all summer colds, but the only thing I needed to do to finish was the rider's scarf. With a bit more hot forming of steel and welding I had my 1920s art deco styled Rudge metalwork sculpture done.

On a side note - the propane forges aren't very big and don't work for long, complicated pieces, but the shop had dual coal forges with four working sides in the back room that let you heat longer pieces. The only trick with the coal forge is that it can get so hot it'll burn the steel (which looks like sparklers when it goes). The propane forges are set to not get that hot, but the coal forge can, so in addition to feeding the beast you also have to be careful it doesn't burn your steel. I ended up leaving the scarf in too long and it burned through at the back, but that wasn't necessarily a bad thing as I wasn't able to create the creases I was looking for in the ends. After burning it in half I was able to make the creases and weld the two sides back together, making it better than it would have been otherwise.

  

Old school, but it does offer some advantages along with some challenges...

I then got a primer on how the grinding room worked. The temperatures were dropping from Monday but when you're wearing face protection, a leather apron, long trousers, steel toe boots, leather gloves and a respirator, it's hot anyway. Even with all that and feeling right rotten I enjoyed getting a feel for grinding and cleaning up finished pieces. I get the sense that grinding is another one of those hands-on skills that can go surprisingly deep.

The end result was hung outside and I got given a spray on chemical that would prevent it from rusting while showing off the ground metal finish.

The finished piece looked so nice I got a clean image of it and then updated the logo on the site with it, and began the process of moving away from TMD logos focused on what I'm riding at the moment.

 

Amie Botelho was our instructor and she is all about hands-on learning. Most mornings we
did a 15-20 minute demo of tools and techniques that you could immediately find a use for. Any time you needed other equipment you'd do one on one safety and how-to training and be let at it. On the forge (and everywhere else in the shop)  Amie is incredibly efficient and that teaches you all sorts of lessons if you watch closely.

It isn't about how hard you hit, it's about how efficiently you get get hot steel out of the forge and under the hammer. It's also about turning your project over and looking at it closely as you work it. Smithing isn't about brute force, it's about attention and precision, but watching a master smith do it is infinitely better than reading about it in a book or hearing someone drone on about it in in a lecture.

Every demo was immediately followed by the suggestion to 'just do it', complete with lots of support in a class of 16 from Amie and shop-tech John. But the best part is that most of the 'students' are actually experienced smiths themselves. The ones around me had all done the four month certificate program at Fleming, so you're surrounded with experienced metal workers who are very free with support and advice (if you want it - you're left to your own devices if that's your jam).

If you're looking to hone your metalworking skills, or want to jumpstart them from scratch, this is a great place to start. Just make sure you show up with lots of ideas if you don't want to be cranking out spoons and bottle openers all week (unless that's your jam) - they're totally open to whatever you want to tackle. We had students working on everything from building a barrel forge of their own involving big industrial pieces, to yard art metal work using the small stuff.  Those experienced smiths in many cases were churning out all the smithing they needed for the year. One told me he'd make the $700 fee for attending for the week every day in what he was producing, making it well worth the cost.

Why come at it like this? Canada being Canada makes it very difficult for you to do things like forging or doing metal work on your own property without hanging you out to dry with insurance and infinite municipal, provincial and federal paperwork. Coming at it this way gives you access to a full service metal shop with all the tech and consumables, and with the safety and insurance challenges all taken care of. The bonus is you also get to hang with an interesting group of like-minded DIYers for the week, which is worth the price of admission alone.

The bandsaws looked like they were older than I am, and I'm feeling old this week!

Once I had the Rudge line art metalwork done I had a go at plasma cutting. I was originally thinking of making a variation on the Isle of Man TT trophy, but symmetrical wings are well out of my wheelhouse without more practice, so I turned it into an absurd door stop with a vaguely Honda theme.

 

Not bad for my first go with a plasma cutter!

Spoons are properly hard work. I found the edge of my forging techniques there quickly!

True that.

The forge at work.

He was early for lunch... this takes place in Haliburton, there are (lots of) deer.

Yep, I did a bottle opener too.

The propane forge at work.

Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance: Patience with C14 Forks

 When I was younger I tended to struggle against time, but as I get older I'm finding that if I slow down and let go of that youthful mania I can see things that get missed and this makes me a better mechanic. Taking on the leaky forks on my 2010 Kawasaki Concours 14/1400GTR also seemed like something too complicated to get into in the garage after the much simpler right-way-up forks on the Tiger (which I get in and out of easily).

Like everything else on the Concours, the front forks are complicated. These would be the first USD (upside down) forks I've done after many right way up forks on dirt bikes and the Tiger, so I went looking for how-tos and was met with a wall of incompetence, both in video making and mechanical ineptitude. So bad were some of them that it made the job seem impossible, but it really isn't.

I finally found Coulda Shoulad Woulda's C14 Fork Seal video and it was just the thing. Yes, I'm starting you 25 seconds in because that's one hell of an intro:

Nicely edited and concise (other than that intro), oh that all youtubers took heed. After watching I believed it possible, so out to the garage I went... and was promptly beaten by the bolts on top of the forks which would not move despite a trip to Canadian Tire to buy the long 24mm socket needed to get on them properly. That socket promptly started rounding them. I suspect whoever was in there last didn't believe in torque wrenches.

Everything I needed for the job was $200 taxes
in on Amazon. The tools seem well made and
worked. The fork seal driver also came in
handy when clamping the fork on the bench.

I applied heat and kept at it, but they would not move, so after lots of sweating and swearing I
stepped away and emailed the local Kawasaki dealer, who I tend to stay away from because whenever I contacted them they give the impression that I've interrupted and annoyed them. A terse reply the next morning that was not forthcoming with the details I needed showed that their service department remains firmly of the mindset that they are doing me a favour whenever I pay them exorbitant fees for service. I finally got out of them that it's $375 to service forks out of the bike and they would only use Kawasaki parts so the seals I'd bought for the job I'd have to buy over again at their markup. A conservative estimate for the job would be $500 in service, parts and taxes, but probably more.

That took me back to the garage where, to my astonishment, the tops came off easily after a few sharp taps with a big socket and some more heat applied. If at first you don't succeed, step away and perhaps after cooling down you've already won. As Classic Bike says, 'heat and patience.'

With the tops loose I was off to the races. I applied some
intentionality to my process and decided to do a fork each day after work rather than trying to do them all at once. This paid dividends because the first fork was a learning process, and when I left it for the night I thought it over and the second one went twice as quickly with fewer problems. Taking your time and moving intentionally is an underappreciated skill in our manic, modern world.

The process of dismantling the forks is fairly straightforward, but requires some jiggery pokery around compressing the spring to get to the internals. Here are the order of operations assuming you've already removed the front fender and wheel:

• Loosen the fork tops while they're on the bike! This isn't easy as the handlebars are in the way. I removed them for access. I also found the metal quite soft. I went out and got a long 24mm socket but it made a mess of them. A well placed vice grip while clamped on the bench did the job better.
• Remove the fairing plastic cover over the front wheel
• Undo the plastic cover at the top of the fork tree (three 10mm bolts) and remove the horn as well which is attached to it
• Loosen the lower fork clamps
• Loosen the upper fork clamps
• Slide out the forks (this was also a pain in the ass - I ended up using a long screwdriver to gently open the clamps a bit to let the forks drop

That gets you to the point where you can start working on the forks themselves.

• Undo the loosened fork tops (if you're luckier than me and the cock womble who was in there last didn't tighten them to death)
• Install your fork compression tools. There are holes in the plastic spacer at the top for you to put a rod in and use the axle mount at the bottom for the other rod

It looks complicated but this is just the fork compressor clamp and a bottom rod provided in the Amazon kit being compressed with rachet straps. 

•  With the spring compressed you will see the nut at the bottom that holds on that top piece
• Pull up on the top piece and you should have just enough space to slip the spring holder piece (also in the Amazon kit) in place. This allows you to loosen the bottom nut and spin off the top

• With that off you can release the rachet straps and remove the spring
• Remove the tube from the centre of the unit. It's fragile so put it somewhere safe and then don't forget to reinstall it (don't ask)
• Empty the oil into a container that lets you see how much is in there. Be sure to work the internals to get everything out

The side with the leak (on the right) had less in it, but both were low. There is supposed to be 550ml of oil in each fork. The dark green stuff on the left looked to be completely different to the brown stuff on the left. I'd guess whoever tried to get into these last couldn't get into one of them and just serviced the one they could - which is nuts!

• Separate the outer fork from the inners
• This lets you pop off the outer seal
• The inner is held in by a retaining ring that's easy to pop out
• Ease the fork seal out of the tube (I applied some heat as the old ones were rock hard - this softened them up a bit and made removal easier

• With everything cleaned up, slide the outer seal on the inner fork making sure it's the right way around
• Install the inner seal in the large (upper because these are USD) fork tube. Doing this while it's separated is much easier than trying to hammer it in when they're attached. I had no trouble getting the inner fork tube on once it was installed (the holes in the inner shaft are chamfered so sliding them on is straightforward
• Don't forget to install the retaining ring after you've got the inner seal in (letter side down because these are USD - the 'open' side should be facing the oil).
• Install the inner fork in the outer with new seals
• Put the spring back
• Put the plastic bit on top and rebuild your spring compressor (don't forget the metal cap)
• loosen the nut on the threaded inner rod and use a matching bolt to give you something to pull it up with when you've got it back together
• Compress it all down again with the ratchet straps
• Pull the top using that bolt you put on and slip the metal piece to hold it in place
• Remove the bolt you used to make it reachable and tighten the nut on the inner threaded piece that's held by the tool you slid in to hold it compressed
• Insert that inner rod you put aside earlier (no, really, remember to do that)
• Screw on the fork top piece and tighten to the lower nut to it
• Double check that you've put all the bits back (inner rod, metal cap on top of the plastic top piece)
• Press down on the compressor that's in the holes in the plastic and slip the retaining metal tool out
• Release the rachet straps
• Put 550ml of fork oil in each. I used 15 weight Maxima
• Work the fork to get any bubbles out (I also let them sit overnight to let things settle)
• Spin the outer fork onto the now attached fork top threaded piece
• Reinstall the forks. The lower bolts said 30 Nm but they still gave me headaches when one sheered in the tube. I stepped away and sorted it out the next day when I wasn't annoyed.

This seems like a handful but if you work your way through it one step at a time it all makes sense. The first fork took me a couple of hours to take my time going through. The second one took less than an hour. Once you've done this once you'll feel able to do it again. Give Coulda Shoulda Woulda's video a watch and you'll have what you need to get it done... and be patient!

Yep, that's a broken lower fork clamp bolt sheered off inside the housing. I ended up getting it out by getting needle nose pliers on the end sticking out and spinning it out that way. This job fought me at every step, but it's all back together with matching (clean) oil in both forks and everything one tightened (to spec) not too tight. One tight, not too tight...

When things went wrong (and the did... often) on this job, I got myself to a reasonable stopping point and stepped away for the day. When I came back the seemingly insurmountable problems (stuck fork tops, broken bolt in the lower clamp) all seemed to have answers.

The old seals were rock hard. I'm curious to see how nice the forks feel with the new ones.

Vice grips did a better job on top fork removal than the specially purchased long 24mm socket did. Applying heat was easy in the vice and the seal driver tool was handy for clamping the fork off the bike.

Removing the handlebars didn't help with loosening the tops of the forks. Hat and vice grips on the bench finally did the trick. I'm going to try the handlebards without the bar risers for a while and see if it feels ok.

***

I've had the bike out a few times and the feel in the front end is fantastic. I'm getting feedback like I've never had before and it's leading to a much more enjoyable ride, both when taking corners and navigating poor pavement; transformative isn't too strong a word.

When I put it back together I dropped the forks in the front tree about 1/4 of an inch, so the bike feels a bit more on the nose. The other thing I did was take the risers out of the handle bars. These had me more upright in the seat, but I left the 'angle wedges' in and the steering feels more immediate than it did without really affecting my geometry. 

This servicing has been well worth it, but so has the opportunity to reconsider the geometry on the front. Right now the GTR1400 is as perfect as I've ever had it, and just as it's about to hit 45k.

Eleven Years, Over a Million Page Views

I started writing this when I got my motorcycle license in my early forties. The first post was in March of 2013 when I decided to get my learner's permit. From there I've tried to (as honestly as I can) describe my motorcycling experience. In that time I've gone through a bewildering array of bikes as I've figured out how I was going to enjoy this hobby. I noticed that the blog has just passed a million views (and messed up the odometer styled page counter), so thought it time for a review. Where have I wandered in the past 11 years of motorcycling? It all began with my Mum's passing and an opportunity to ride without panicking those around me.

The First '07 Ninja 650 seemed like a logical starting bike. From there I got my first fixer-upper in the form of a '94 Kawasaki C10 Concours. Getting that out of a hedge, sorting it out and putting lots of miles on it felt like a big win, but I was still learning and when the carbs went on me, I lost the plot with it. That's one of those 'Costanza moments' when I wish I could have a do-over - I've got the tools and knowhow now to sort them out!

The KLE dual sport was too small for me (couldn't get me to 100kms/hr which is dangerous on our increasingly crowded and impatient local roads), so it came and went. I also dabbled with an old Yamaha XS1100, but never got it road worthy so it doesn't make the list. Then there was the PW80 I got for Max which he wanted nothing to with, so it came and went. Neither of them cost me anything (I broke even on both) so, whatever.

With the Concours acting up and a dead Midnight Special in the garage, I was prompted into the '03 Triumph Tiger, which has been my longest serving machine (currently at 8 years and over 40,000kms travelled). The Tiger filled the gap for a long time and let me drop both the Yamaha and the Kawasaki. While the Tiger performed regular riding duty I came across a Honda Fireblade that had been sidelined for several years, got it for a song, fixed it up, rode it for a season and then sold it on for a small profit, which felt like a win.

During the early days of COVID the Tiger started acting up and I came across a 2010 Kawasaki GTR1400/Concours 14 for sale with low miles that had also been sidelined in a shed. I sorted out this complex bike and once again felt like my mechanicking skills had levelled up. With some extra contract work I'd done and the money from the Fireblade this step up to something more expensive didn't eat into savings.

The C14 and Tiger are both still currently in the garage. In 2021, as COVID lingered, I came across an opportunity to try a vintage restoration. I had a choice of several bikes and took one that was the furthest gone, which in retrospect was a mistake (don't get cocky, right?). I cleaned up this ratty old chopped 1971 Bonneville and got to the point where it sat in the corner of the garage because I'm too stingy to throw money at it. Lesson learned: if you want to go vintage, be prepared to pay through the nose for it and wait a lot for parts availability.

I let the Bonneville go this spring for what I paid for it (minus the new parts). It was a loss but it gave me something to do while the world stopped and I learned a lot. It was fun doing an archeological inspection of a machine that was almost as old as I am.

What's next? I've never owned a new bike before. Following my shear perversity in terms of motorcycling, I'm tempted by a Moto Guzzi V85 TT. Partly because of the character, partly because I think they're stunning and partly because it's so not everyone else.

I noticed the other day that the blog has passed a million page views. It took since March of 2013 (when I started riding) to pull it off, so that's just over 11 years, but a million is a bigger number than most people can conceive. Over the 4083 days this blog has been up it has averaged over 250 page views every day, which feels good. It provides information for people looking for details on some of the mechanics I've tackled, and it also gets good pickup on travel stories and bike tech. I'm hoping more travel stories are in the future.

Another story that popped up recently was the ride around Vancouver Island ten years ago. That would be the first time I rented a bike while away from home. It led to the Island Escape story in Motorcycle Mojo. What isn't mentioned there is that prior to my wife's conference we also rented scooters and went for an adventure to Butchart Gardens in Victoria.

More travel opportunities like that, or Max and I's ride through the Superstition Mountains in Arizona, or down to the Indianapolis MotoGP race would be fantastic, it's difficult to find the time though.

The other day I thought I'd get into the throttle controls on the Tiger and clean and lubricate all the bits (if you read this regularly you can guess where this is going). Everything plastic on this 21 year old bike is brittle and yep, the throttle cable adjuster broke. I've jury-rigged a solution, but like everything else on this bike, finding parts is becoming 'vintage difficult and expensive', even though it's anything but.

My biking decisions might be made for me if we decide to move. If we downsize into a condo or something without a garage I'd be tempted to clear the deck and get something new. At that point having something that someone else has to work on while it's under warranty would make sense. I don't know how long I'd be happy with no working space, but perhaps I'd end up getting in with a shop coop and having some space in a shared garage somewhere. My approach to motorcycling is quite isolating. A change in circumstances might be a good thing.

If every time I touch the Tiger to do maintenance (it needs regular TLC) the parts crumble in my hands, I don't know how much longer I can keep it going. I'd really like to get it to six figures but beyond that I'm not sure - perhaps turn it into modern art?

I'm still also keen to pursue trials riding and perhaps long distance enduro with an eye for finishing rather than beating up machinery to attain top speeds. I'd do track days but I live in Ontario, which doesn't make access to things like track days easy in a any way. Likewise with the off roading. It's about, but it's sporadic and they make it as difficult as possible. Living somewhere else might open up motorcycling opportunities that feel out of reach here in the overcrowded world of South Western Ontario.