So, there I was, staring at these two bits that just wouldn’t go together. You know how it is, sometimes you need a real good squeeze, a proper mating, and doing it by hand? Nah, not gonna happen, not with these stubborn pieces. I was working on restoring this old bit of machinery, a lovely little thing, but some parts needed, let’s say, ‘persuading’ to fit back where they belonged.
And man, have you seen the price of proper workshop presses? For the amount of times I’d actually use one, it just didn’t make sense to splash that kind of cash. My wallet cried just thinking about it. So, the old brain started ticking, like it does when you’re backed into a corner with a job to do.
Figuring it Out – The “Plan”
I thought, “Heck, I’ve got bits and bobs lying around the workshop. Surely I can cobble something together.” A “rough mating press,” that’s what I started calling it in my head. Nothing pretty, mind you, just something to get the job done. I didn’t even sketch it out properly, more like a few squiggly lines on a greasy bit of cardboard I found.
The main idea was simple: get some kind of frame, and then use something to apply pressure. Sounds easy, right? Ha! The devil’s always in the details, as they say.
Gathering the Junk… I Mean, Materials
First things first, I went on a scrounge. Found some hefty bits of angle iron that were leftover from a shelving project that never quite got finished. Perfect for a sturdy frame. Then, I remembered that old bottle jack I had sitting in the corner, the one from my previous car. Still worked, surprisingly. That was going to be my muscle.
Here’s what I ended up with, more or less:
- Some chunky steel angle iron.
- An old 2-ton bottle jack.
- A few thick bolts and nuts I “rescued” from the odds-and-sods tin.
- A couple of flat, thick steel plates – one for the top, one for the bottom.
Pretty basic stuff, really. No fancy alloys or precision-milled components here. Just good old-fashioned steel and hope.
The “Assembly” Process – If You Can Call It That
Okay, so “assembly” might be a generous term. It was more like a wrestling match. I started by cutting the angle iron to what I thought were the right lengths. My cuts weren’t exactly straight, but hey, “rough” is in the name, right? I clamped them together and then got out the old stick welder. My welding, well, let’s just say it holds. Birds might not admire the neatness of the beads, but it’s strong enough.
I welded up a sort of H-frame. The jack was going to sit at the bottom, pushing up against a plate, and the part I needed to press would sit under another plate at the top of the H. Getting it all square-ish was a bit of a faff. Lots of measuring, then whacking it with a hammer, then measuring again. You get the picture.
Then I bolted the top plate on. Had to drill some holes, and my drill bits complained a bit with that thick steel, but we got there. The bottom plate just sat on the jack. Simple.
First Test and the Inevitable Tweaks
Once it was all bolted and welded (and I’d let the welds cool, mostly), it was time for the moment of truth. I put a couple of bits of scrap wood in, just to see how it moved. Pumped the jack, and… well, it sort of worked! But the whole thing flexed a bit more than I liked. The frame was twisting a little under pressure.
So, back to the drawing board, or rather, back to the pile of scrap. I found some more flat bar and welded in a few diagonal braces. That stiffened it up a good bit. It still wasn’t something you’d see in a fancy catalogue, but it felt a lot more solid.
Getting the Job Done
With the reinforcements in place, I finally put in the actual parts I needed to press. Lined them up carefully, took a deep breath, and started pumping that jack handle. Slow and steady. There was a bit of a creak, then a satisfying little ‘thunk’ as the parts seated together. Beautiful! It actually worked!
I managed to press all the stubborn bits for that old machine. Saved me a headache, and a fair bit of money too. And you know what? There’s a certain satisfaction in making a tool, even a crude one, that does exactly what you need it to do.
It’s not pretty, this press. It’s probably overbuilt in some places and under-engineered in others. But it’s mine, and it got the job done. Sometimes, that’s all that matters. You don’t always need the shiniest, most expensive gear. A bit of ingenuity and some elbow grease can go a long, long way. It just sits there in the corner of the workshop now, a testament to making do. And every now and then, when something needs a good, firm ‘mating’, out it comes. Still works like a charm, in its own rough way.
