Bicycle Restoration The Burra Way - Part Two

Part one introduced the radical notion of doing nothing to newly acquired projects. The key concepts are researching and understanding your bike’s history and provenance. It may be that there is little or nothing known about the bike or there may be a wealth of knowledge that will help inform the next step.

We’re drawn to machines for a variety of reasons. Rarity, nostalgia or attractive pricing. Design, be that aspects of frame design, engineering, embellishment or componentry is an obvious consideration. And of course there’s provenance - design or prior ownership of a bike by a person or organisation of note is an undeniable attraction, be they a winning rider, a celebrity or just your old dad.

The next step on the Burra Charter path to vintage cycling enlightenment is to develop a conservation policy, and from this you can develop a plan of action.

‘Restoration’ is a catch-all term that gets enthusiastically bandied about the vintage and veteran bike scene whenever collectors are gathered together. Contrasting ‘restoration’ with ‘conservation’ is considered the height of subtlety and is only used by the most elite collectors. Understanding and applying the Burra Charter principles obliges us to define these terms more carefully, and to add a few more.

At the heart of the Burra Charter is the idea that items of cultural significance should be conserved. You and I
are now conservators engaging in acts of conservation. The Burra Charter urges the adoption of a ‘do no harm’ attitude;

“Conservation is based on a respect for the existing fabric, use, associations and meanings. It requires a cautious approach of changing as much as necessary but as little as possible.”

Five conservation strategies are defined in the Burra Charter, let's have a look at them. (Once again I’ve substituted the word ‘bike’ for ‘place’ in the original Burra text.)

‘Preservation means maintaining a bike in its existing state and retarding deterioration’

Preservation is appropriate for extremely rare or unusual items, bikes that are unlikely to be ridden.

'Maintenance means the continuous protective care of a bike, and its setting.'

I love riding my bikes, who doesn't? The character of each is mostly defined by its age and original purpose. Does your collection include low value bikes? Roadside pickups with no provenance, transport bikes with unremarkable histories? Riding them incurs wear to everything from tyres and chain to bar tape, and wear requires maintenance.

‘Restoration means returning a bike to a known earlier state by removing accretions or by reassembling existing elements without the introduction of new material. ‘

The word-part or prefix ‘re’ has long been a part of English. Its roots trace back through Old French and Latin to the theorised Proto-Indo-European language first postulated five hundred years ago. 'Re's' meanings ring clear with the bike enthusiast; "back to the original place; again, anew, once more," also with a sense of "undoing".

As mentioned earlier the word restoration is used frequently in the old bike community. 'Restore' is often contrasted with 'conserve' - a binary choice about the future of a particular bike. Conservation is taken to mean that a clean and tidy is all that's required. Restoration signals more significant work that would certainly involve the introduction of new or refurbished parts, perhaps including new paint. The Burra Charter introduces bike collectors to some new words - reconstruction is the first - and, as previously mentioned, it recasts the term 'conservation' more broadly.

‘Reconstruction means returning a bike to a known earlier state and is distinguished from restoration by the introduction of new material.’

Restoration and reconstruction have much in common. Both begin with our favourite prefix 're' and both concern themselves with “known earlier states”. Let's take a moment to tease them apart.

Restoration is limited to removing accretions; cleaning up rust and dust, and, if the bike's in bits, reassembling it. No new material means no new consumables like tyres or bar tape, no new paint and no replacement parts. Reconstruction allows us the introduction of parts and paint to meet the goal of returning the bike to a known earlier state.

The bicycle had barely been invented in 1865 when Lewis Carroll sent his young friend Alice "Down The Rabbit Hole" in Chapter One of "Alice's Adventures in Wonderland". A century and a half later three words - known earlier states - have us tumbling in after her. There's no way around this; establishing a 'known earlier state' is hard. Given free reign the pursuit can confound the mind and damage the soul of the most hardened collector. This is important though so we shall not waver. The obvious resources available to us are photographs, written descriptions, recollections and contemporaneous machines.

Photographs, where available, are good sources of information. Prior to the 1970's most amateur photos were black and white, poorly framed and blurry, nonetheless information can be gleaned from them and pieced together to form a picture of likely components associated with a frame. Professional photos, rider portraits or advertising photos can be more detailed and informative.

The most common written descriptions contributing to 'known earlier states' are marketing materials from bike manufacturers, often brochures and advertisements promoting their products included detailed specifications.

Through the generosity of individuals and clubs like ours there is increasing access to material of this type. Locating an unmolested contemporary bike as a reference for components or paint schemes can be a huge help.

Recollections from a previous owner or someone familiar with the history of a bike can be invaluable if judged to be accurate.

'Adaptation means changing a bike to suit the existing use or a proposed use.'

There will be times when a known earlier state is impossible to establish, and times when it is of no interest. Adaptation is appropriate in these instances. This policy gives the collector the most freedom. The possibilities range from returning a bike to an imagined earlier state, through to tribute and replica bikes and completely repurposed machines.

Your own aims as well as an understanding your project bike’s history will be guiding factors when choosing the most appropriate conservation policy.

I believe that riding a bike is as much a part of its historical expression as its appearance. My preference for functional bikes suggest that Maintenance, Reconstruction and Adaptation are strategies that I should adopt, whereas a collector interested in static display may be best served by Preservation and Restoration.

Bicycle Restoration the Burra Way - Part One

Step One - Do Nothing
Bicycle collectors - we’re great doers. Part of what attracts us to bikes is the chance to fix and mend. The shed is our natural habitat, a comfortable nest of tools, tyres and tubes of various kinds. Curios of questionable taste rub shoulders with a frightening array of unguents, lineaments, acids, oils and waxes. When we’re not in the shed we gather in person or online to share our discoveries - from favoured rust removal solutions to the intricacies of cotter pin sizing.

Like the arrival of a baby the acquisition of a new old bike or frame is cause for celebration. But where the new child is swaddled, held, fed and fussed over our new bikes are dismantled, drenched in petrochemicals, subjected to the wire brush, scrubbed with vinegar, soaked in molasses, bead blasted, re-chromed and powder coated. And that’s just the start.

After a few years of frenetic vandalism the collector finally draws breath and asks “to what end?” It’s a great question and one that has been asked by students of history with increasing frequency over the past couple of centuries.

With just over 10 years in the club I’m pretty new to old bikes. While I’ve had the benefit of learning from club members and friends working in the museum and art collection world, it was a chance encounter with a South Australian bike enthusiast that got me interested in the Burra Charter, and its application to bike conservation and restoration.

Burra, population 900, is a South Australian town a couple of hours drive north of Adelaide. Copper deposits, for a short period in the 19th century, made it Australia’s biggest metals mine. A century later, in 1979, the heritage buildings inspired by the mine economy drew a group of architectural historians and heritage practitioners together for a conference that resulted in the Burra Charter, internationally the most significant set of guiding principles in heritage conservation of the modern age.

The Burra’s antecedents are the 1964 Venice Charter and the 1933 Athens Charter. The Burra is a set of principles and procedures associated with the conservation of Australian heritage places. So far, so architectural, so where do bikes fit in? I’ll answer that question with another question; why did we need a new heritage charter in the first place?

The Venice and Athens Charters were focussed on centuries old public monuments, palaces and parterre gardens. They had limited relevance to Australian heritage enthusiasts who were keen to preserve and celebrate modest, utilitarian buildings with much shorter histories.

A key feature of the Burra Charter is the acknowledgment and accomodation of the continued use of heritage buildings. This, to me, is what makes it so useful to collectors of old bikes.

Part of the joy of ownership of an old bike is in the riding of it. Bikes are made to be ridden; riding them is an expression of their purpose. Riding an old bike is an experience that engages our senses and feelings. It affords us a real opportunity to sense the past in a way that’s not available in museums which, after all, are mostly about looking and reading. I hope you will join me in saying the phrase ‘wall hanger’ has no place in our world. Anyway, back to the Burra Charter, which has at its heart the idea that mucking about with old stuff makes us better people.

“Heritage objects are worth keeping because they enrich our lives – by helping us understand the past, contributing to the richness of the present environment and because they will be of value to future generations.”

Another (edited) quote from the charter; I’ve substituted the word ‘place’ with ‘bike’.

“The Burra Charter advocates a cautious approach to change: do as much as necessary to care for the place bike and to make it useable, but otherwise change it as little as possible so that its cultural significance is retained.”

My first step with a new old bike is to do nothing. Well nothing that involves tools and solvents anyway. I make sure the bike is out of the weather of course.

And then get the camera and notebook out.

The bike is documented as found. A couple of overall shots in good light against a plain a background, followed by closer shots of drivetrain, braking components and the saddle. The emphasis is documenting the condition of the bike and should include photos of things like the frame number, paint detailing and any unique design features.

Establishing and recording the provenance of the bike is next. Provenance is the chronology of the ownership, custody, location and use of a historical object. Tracing provenance provides evidence for original production and subsequent use. A bike can be a lens that focusses attention on specific aspects of history and culture. The more we know about a bike’s past, the more valuable it is to us.

It isn’t always easy to establish provenance, in fact sometimes it’s impossible. But establishing some history of your new acquisition will really help you make decisions about your next steps. That history could include photographs, recollections of previous owners, newspaper clippings, and of course whatever can be gleaned from the machine itself.

The Burra Charter Process puts collection and analysis of information ahead of making decisions and getting on the tools.

Download The Burra Charter and check out Part Two in this series.

Robert Frith

A Frame Cleaning Solution

You may be familiar with microcrystalline conservation wax as used by conservation technicians at the WA Museum.

It protects all types of surfaces including unpainted metal and, most importantly, protects an old bike’s patina whilst being completely reversible.

Evan Thomas, the man behind Becketts conservation wax, has kindly shared his recipe for a wax and grime remover.

I have used this on numerous projects now and I have found it to be an effective cleaner, yet reassuringly gentle on old paint and decals.

Be aware that white spirits can make some plastic containers go soft so either test first or use a container previously used for turpentine, acetone, white spirits etc.

4 parts white spirits 400ml
2 parts methylated spirits200ml
1 part vinegar 100ml
1/2 dish detergent 50ml
Shake before use and apply to surface, allow to dry and wipe down.

Frank West

Rustbucket for Rust Removal

I would like to share little a success story of a product I recently trialled called Rust Bucket.

After researching the product I was keen to try it out on a 1934 Swansea recently acquired from a fellow club member. 

The process of chelation which targets only iron oxide (rust) is common some of the other rust removal remedies and products out there. What really intrigued me was that Rustbucket is a pH 7 (neutral) product which is supposed to prevent flash rusting of the surface of the newly cleaned metal associated with other rust removal methods. So essentially there is a fairly large window to apply your sealers or paint without the fear of instantaneous re-rusting.

The manufacturer recommends a ratio of 1 litre of Rust Bucket powder to 5 litres of water. I built a frame shaped bath from scrap timber lined with plastic sheet which had a capacity of 20 litres. I halved the recommended dosage partly to assuage my fear of paint and patina loss and bought 2 litres of powder. At $43 a bottle it also halved the budget!

After 12 hours in the solution the results were surprisingly good, simply hosing off with water and voila!; once dried the frame was ready for waxing. I noticed that the solution was really dirty, so it did a fantastic in removing any rust and flaky paint.

Rust Bucket, by Action Corrosion http://www.actioncorrosion.com.au/product/rust-bucket-safe-rust-removal-bath/
Colin Proctor

Stanisław Kudliński

Last October my wife and I were cycling in northern Austria. At the town of Mauthausen we turned up the valley and climbed some switchbacks in our lowest gear until the grade eased. Nestled into the broad grassed hill in front of us were the massive walls of the Mauthausen concentration camp, run as a business by the German SS during World War II.  They were a very enterprising bunch when it came to forced labour, starvation, death and worse.  We spent several hours taking in as much as we could cope with.

In the museum my eye was drawn to this old bicycle. It had been indelicately but lovingly repainted in green and gold, so it was irresistible to an Australian cyclist.  Its sweeping handle bar gave it a jaunty look but it had taken a hard hit on the left side. Foot pegs on the front forks suggested it had routinely carried someone on the handlebars. A handsome saddle sat above the simple drive train, which looked like it could go forever. The rear rack had survived somehow.

The bike belonged to Stanisław Kudliński, a polish survivor of the Mauthausen camp.  Probably 120,000 people were murdered in the camp complex (many records were destroyed and estimates range up to 200,000 according to Wikipedia).  But Stanisław survived and when he got out he didn't wait for his return home to be arranged.  He received this bicycle from nuns in nearby Linz and set off with two other survivors on a long journey through war-torn Europe, home to Poland.  He kept the bike throughout his 83 years, a powerful symbol of freedom.

We cleared our heads in the bright sun and climbed back on our own freedom machine. As we rode away from Mauthausen we couldn't feel what Stanisław felt, but we knew it felt good.

Robert Loughman