Schwinn Restoration, Part 4

One of my Facebook friends shared a video recently. In the video she talked extensively about self-change, shame, abuse, and trauma. She spoke of confronting these things head-on and personally changing the world by facing her own feelings about her past and breaking a long-preserved silence and encouraging others to do the same. Her post was inspired. As I have watched her life change and how she has gained confidence over time, I can’t help but be inspired by her. She is remarkable and brave.

Parrallels

Restoring this bicycle makes me mindful of my own journey and seeing others share their experience gives me courage to share portions of my own restoration. For the bike, new tires to support the load and absorb shock much like forgiveness has built a firm foundation and absorbed wrongdoing in my own life. I’m strong, but I am far from perfect. The cleaned scuffs and scratches show years of wear and tear, but reveal a history about how the fork once turned into the frame and left a characteristic deep etch in the paint. Beauty emerges from the miles. Beauty that you cannot cover up with a fresh coat of paint. It tells a story. It is a story that you can’t keep inside forever. The scars and scuff marks are visible, and because they are visible, they must be incorporated to create a final impression.

Clean and Rebuild

Brake Cable
Brake and Shift Cables

The project is coming along nicely. I found replacement brake cable housing. Not vintage as I had hoped, but some ice grey sport housing from Jagwire. It is nice stuff, easy to work with, and a great color for a vintage bike-ice gray. I’m using the original vintage cable ends as they fit into the brake assembly much better. I’ll talk about the brake rebuild later. I’m still in the middle of the shift cable housing replacement, as I had thought originally I could replace the shift cable housing just as easily as the brake cable, and with the same material. I was wrong about that, and now I have the shift cable replacement kit on order.

Much of the outside of the bike is very clean now. The fenders have been cleaned and polished. The frame has been cleaned very thoroughly, and the chrome has been cleaned and I’ve used a very fine steel wool to remove rust from the chrome parts on the fork, the front carrier, and the bicycle rims. As I envisioned, there is still some shine left in this bike after all of these years. But it begs the inevitable question about whether or not you ever complete a restoration, or is it something that you are always approaching the end of- like a mathematical limit.

The Fenders

Polished Rear Fender Stay

The fender brackets are aluminum. They were very oxidized. I tried some natural methods for polishing, including lemon juice and an acid based cleaner. There was just too much pitting on the brackets to get a good result. For some time, I considered a dremel tool or attaching something to a drill, but I finally resorted to steel wool followed up with some aluminum polish. You have a lot of time to think when you are polishing aluminum. It turns out that, as the steel wool gradually removes the oxidization, it is a good time to ponder life. Putting good ole’ elbow grease to work works the mind.

What is your response when life, as it often does, fails to meet your expectations? When I started this project, I imagined an old bike completely refurbished to its original state. My imagination is rarely ever realistic. While the result is not what I expected, it is no less desirable. It likely proves even more so because as a result of my effort, I get a unique opportunity to share the experience with others. Polishing aluminum made me think about how approaching an experience with a willingness to learn can have an impact on your destination. It has in this case. I’m working toward perfection, but it isn’t my ultimate destination.

Function vs. Form

Front Axle
Front Axle Components

When I reattached the front wheel, I noticed some significant play in the axle. So much so that I thought I was going to have to take the front hub apart and lubricate the assembly. I was trying to avoid unnecessary disassembly. I didn’t recall loosening the cone or lock nut when I took off the front wheel and knowing it had been sitting there for a while meant that a clean of the hub was probably a good idea. Well, that became yesterday’s job.

I haven’t taken apart a front hub in nearly three decades, so I was a little nervous about what I might find in there. I figured since it had been sitting in the garage for so long, the grease may have deteriorated and the bearings may have rusted or the hub assembly may have been worn significantly enough to warrant replacement of some of the components. I have been fortunate that I have been able to find so many of the replacement parts so far. I slowly took the hub apart, identified the type of grease necessary for the the reassembly,  and ordered it.

Piece by piece  the parts are gradually coming back together and I am approaching the vision I had for this old two-wheeler. I can’t wait to see how it comes out. I like what this bike is re-becoming.

Endurance and Change

Preservation and restoration both take time. I have endured my fair share of abuse and neglect, but that seems distant now. I was afraid–and maybe still am afraid– of never becoming, or ever being, good enough. As part of the MBA program, my peers and I talked quite extensively about tapping into our strengths. For me, restoration is certainly one of those. Taking something that is broken, and making it new again. Identifying the broken pieces and bringing the components back together to function like they were designed. That brings me joy and it is a joy to share that with you.

The Last Leg

I had to take a bit of a break after the last leg of my trip. There were a couple of reasons for this. As I started to take on a more active role in planning the activities on my trip, there was less and less time to actually write about it. It was a little sad. I would begin a post, only to let it languish, forever buried in the draft doldrums of the blog separated from release by one little point of metadata. In the mean time, I watched my mother experience the real joy of traveling to a place she would have never been able to go. Many of my posts still lie in the doldrums, begging for resurrection. I can assure you that I will get to them slowly. Now that I have had some time to process what I observed in my travels, the content will be much better polished.

The Leg

Also, when I returned from the trip I fell ill. Very ill. Even as I crossed back over into the states, I ached from within. What I thought was simply a longing to be home gradually spawned a fever. When I walked through the door, the fever relegated me to the couch and continued to sap all energy until it blossomed into a pain in my lower leg and ankle. The leg pain put me on notice, and I ended up in the emergency room on iv antibiotics.

For some, that occasionally the way it is with travel. When trying to take in all of your surroundings, it is easy to forget to take care of yourself. Only now that I am rested up, can I expound on that thought. There is this element of moving through new places that makes you forget where you came from. You are forced to divert your attention to the present because you have never seen it. It is a bittersweet release of everything you know in exchange for the newness of the unknown. The distraction from yourself is intoxicating. Everything you normally take for granted is replaced with something new. It is exhilarating to leave your world behind for a time being. Escape.

The Return

That temporary diversion creates a problem when you finally return home. The time you spent in the present was so intoxicating that you long for it to continue. You are woke. You begin to realize that it wasn’t your surroundings that were holding you back, after all. It was your response to them. What you think about the world around you either drives or limits your behavior. How you interact with the world and your willingness to explore is what either hampers you or severs the chains that have been holding you back all along.

Maintaining a Change

I’m not necessarily an activist. I want look at the world around me with new eyes every day.  Like everyone, I will struggle to maintain that vision now that I have returned home. I am thankful for my little corner of the world and my trek to arrive here. I don’t think that I am different from anyone else. I have stumbled through harsh storms and over jagged rocks to appreciate the things that truly build others up. I appreciate how frail we are as people. How temporary our lives are. I understand how one harsh word can tear down a person and how one harsh person can be the difference between achieving something great and failure.

I have also become even more thankful for what makes the United States special. At the root, it is our ability in this country to talk about the things that are happening without fear. Our freedom to talk about those beliefs and solicit effective change. Our inclination to be passionate about the beliefs we have and long for a time when we both retain our freedoms and prevent the permanent loss of those freedoms at the hands of those who wish to take them.

Make no mistake, that is what makes this a great country. We can speak and move freely. With that ability, it becomes incumbent upon all of us to speak for those who cannot speak for themselves, to truthfully echo the faint voices of the afraid without an agenda. It becomes incumbent to speak the truth without the intent to destroy others, but speaking to guide, encourage,  and correct. It is those who have been trained and disciplined by experience who produce a harvest of righteousness and peace.

What uniquely lifts my spirit is to see others find the success that elevates their own.