Finally, after hours of wet sanding, dry sanding and sanding with an electric wheel, I consider changing my name to Sandy Duncan.
Really, I just reach a point where I've done enough sanding that the body panels are smooth enough for factory work and it probably won't look ridiculous when I paint. I'm done sanding.
The legendary Anthony Armstrong comes over and helps tape the bike up again to get ready for paint. Anthony has taken three rusty, piece of crap Lambrettas and turned each of them daily ridden, show winning masterpieces, all by being meticulous. Anthony is a dude who is so proficient with rattle cans that he can make paint bought at Auto Zone look factory.
My problem is I am not nearly as patient as Anthony. Having him come over is a huge help because he stops me from taking short cuts that would ruin the paint. I was about to paint the disassembled scooter inside my shed. Anthony thinks that's a stupid idea because I'll get overspray on everything. He's right.
We set up a painting areas outside of the shed. The plan is to pain paint a part, take it back into the shed to dry, while I paint another section of the bike. It's not as good as having a paint booth or a garage to work in, but it should keep the random leaf, bug or bird dropping off my fresh tacky paint. Genius!
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