I picked up my finished Stella cowls on Saturday at long last. I strapped them to the Vespa to bring them home and I was slightly nervous transporting them, fearing the curse of the Frankenstella extended even beyond the garage. I briefly entertained the thought of how darkly apropos it would be to crash right then, totaling the GTS and the freshly-minted Stella cowls in one fell swoop.
Alas, I weathered the 3 miles without incident.
In case you’re just joining us, it might be worthwhile for me to
summarize Celeste the Frankenstella’s cosmetic challenges. (Summarizing
her karmic and mechanical challenges would require more hard drive
space than I have.)
My friend was riding the Frankenstella in a parking lot, let up the
clutch too quick, popped a wheelie, and then grabbed the throttle,
launching the scooter into the air. I watched the Stella bounce along
on the asphalt before finally coming to rest on the throttle. The leg
shield was dented and the right cowl scratched from the slide.
A few weeks later, I was riding in a group on a gravel road littered
with enormous water-filled pot holes. The scooter in front of me
stopped short, and I tried to stop short and avoid a pot hole at the
same time and down I went. Of course, I dropped the bike on the
opposite side of the existing damage, just to balance things out.
Two weeks after that, I brought the scooter to the shop because it
was dieseling, and since the shop was closed, I left the Frankentstella
parked outside. She was struck by a car, which knocked her down and
obliterated what little cosmetic appeal she had left.
As a result of all this abuse, Celeste’s cowls were banged up but
not unsalvageable. After the three unlucky tumbles, the metal was
dented, the paint scratched and chipped, and the badges broken off. My
primary state of mind when tackling this project was, “how much worse
could I make it?”
I consulted the experts. The chapter on Paint & Bodywork in the indispensable How to Restore and Maintain Your Vespa Motorscooter
says, “Painting a scooter is generally a procedure best left to
professionals.” Hmmph. You’ll get the same advice when dyeing your
hair, but that never stopped me. I figured the warning was partly a
“release from liability” statement (much like Clairol’s), and partly to
keep their body shop friends in business.
I did fine with the patching, sanding, and priming. The main problem
with fixing the cowls myself was matching Celeste’s totally custom
metallic green. I made three trips to two different auto supply stores,
purchasing various bottles of automotive touch-up paint, and came up
just shy of that sparkly mermaid green. I finally found a rattle can of
metallic spraypaint at Fred Meyer that looked darn close on the cap,
and decided to just go with it. I was frustrated, and broke.
I sprayed the cowls and the color matched from a distance (of about
a mile) but up close it was clearly a darker, more pine-y green. Plus,
the finish looked like hell. Because I’m not a professional.
Defeated, I ordered two new P-series cowls from Scooterworks because they were on sale.
I did some research to find out who originally painted Celeste, and
came up with Russ at Custom Classics Paintworks. He used to be in
Lynnwood, where some of my favorite things originate, but has now set
up shop in Ravensdale, WA. They’re so old school they don’t even have a
web site.
I provided Russ with one of the original cowls, which still had the
initial green paint on the inside, and he matched the color and painted
the two new cowls for $100 each, including the two-tone stripe. So the
whole paint job cost $220 after tax. At first I thought that was a lot
of money, but after spending nearly half that on silly little bottles
of unmatching touch-up paint and wasting several weekends attempting to
make it look passable, I wish I had just gone straight to Russ.
I’m learning that there are tasks we pay professionals to do because
they know how and we don’t – and it’s as simple as that. I mean, you
wouldn’t perform a root canal on yourself just because you found
instructions on the internet, would you?
For some attempts at DIY, the cost of purchasing the necessary tools
can exceed having a professional do it for you. In the case of painting
the cowls, I don’t plan on doing any further paint work, so it doesn’t
make sense for me to buy and set up a spray tent and all the other
equipment necessary to do it well. Well being the operative term.
My finished results, beside Russ’ finished results. See why I paid him?
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