What you might ask, does an old lathe--heavy as sin and tired as a
panhandler's smile--have to do with the old car hobby? We're playing
with cars, not trying replicate the Industrial Revolution.
With the exception of a drill press, a lathe is the most versalile
machine tool one can own. During the course of work on a 1950
Chevrolet pickup, the lathe was used to make scores of parts, most of
them unavailable in the aftermarket. Even when the parts could be
ordered, it seemed more productive and was certainly less expensive to
fabricate them myself. Stubborn shackle bushings called for the mother
of all bushing drivers. It weighs almost 10 lb and could not have been
built without a lathe.
A lathe confers a level freedom to the restoration process because
it was the basic tool used to build the car in the first place.
Buying a Lathe
A new Chinese 12" x 36" gear-head lathe with tooling can
be had for around $2000. These 1100-lb machines occupy a minimum
amount of shop space, run on 220V single-phase current, and have
enough capacity for most automotive jobs. Owners I talked with seemed
reasonably satisfied, if not overly enthusiastic, about these
utilitarian products, designed for the hobbyist.
The same money will buy a well used (and often abused) Atlas, South
Bend or perhaps even a Monarch. At one time these lathes were serious
production tools and still do yoeman’s service in small shops. But
be careful: the used machinery market is no more scrupulous than the
vintage car market. In fact, I think I have seen some of the same
faces at auctions.
Some of the best, most cogent advice for evaluating used lathes can
be found at Meridian Machinery.
Briefly we can say that the ways -- the track upon which the carriage
rides -- are the heart and soul of the machine. If the ways are worn
or distorted, the carriage and cutting tool lose alignment with the
spindle and make accurate work impossible. Regrinding the ways would
cost more than the lathe is worth. Wear on the spindle and spindle
bearings can also be quite expensive to correct.
Nearly all production tools operate on three-phase current, which
is not generally available in residential areas. Most people run the
original motor with a commercial or homemade phase converter. I opted
for a new motor and, in the process, sacrificed the electrical
reversing feature. So far, it has not been greatly missed.
The gears on the ancient lathe grumble, the crossfeeds bind, and
the ways, while relatively true, show numerous battle scars. When
these faults are pointed out to old-time machinists, they smile
tolerantly and say, "Yeah, but she runs." Run? The South
Bend slices through cold-rolled steel like peeling an apple. It holds
tolerances close enough for the one or two-off parts needed when
restoring an automobile. And, at least to my way of thinking, it has
special value as an artifact from the bygone age of American
industrialism, the likes of which we shall never see again.