Alright, so I got this idea in my head to tackle the Red Bull RB18. You know, the F1 car. Thought it’d be a cool project, a bit of a challenge, something to get my hands dirty with. Famous car, looked sleek. What could possibly be a pain, right? Famous last words, lemme tell ya.
So, I got myself one of those kits. The box arrives, and I’m all excited, like a kid on Christmas. Ripped it open, and boom, plastic bits everywhere. Sprues, tiny bags, a sheet of decals that looked more complicated than my tax forms. The instruction booklet? Yeah, that was a whole adventure in itself. Looked like someone had sneezed a bunch of lines and numbers onto paper. But hey, I’ve built stuff before. How hard could it be?
I started by washing all the parts. You gotta do that, or the paint won’t stick right. Then I laid everything out. My desk looked like an explosion in a tiny car factory. First up was trying to get the main chassis pieces together. Some cutting, some sanding, a bit of glue here and there. Not too bad, I thought. Getting a bit cocky, maybe.
Then came the suspension. Oh. Dear. Lord. The little arms, the tiny connector bits. I swear these things were designed by someone who hates fingers. My tweezers became my best friend and worst enemy all at once. I’d pick up a piece, it would ping off into the unknown, and then I’d spend the next twenty minutes on my hands and knees, muttering things I wouldn’t want my grandma to hear. Found one piece stuck to my sock once. My cat just sat there watching me, probably thinking I’d finally lost it.
And the aero bits! All those little winglets and bargeboard details. So delicate. I must have snapped two or three of them just trying to get them off the sprue. Had to do some emergency superglue surgery. It’s like they expect you to have the hands of a brain surgeon and the patience of a saint. I was running low on the patience part pretty quick.
Painting was next. Trying to match that Red Bull blue? Don’t even get me started. Mixed a few shades, tested them. Finally got something that looked close enough. Then masking. So. Much. Masking. Tiny bits of tape everywhere to get those sharp lines. It took forever. My back was aching from hunching over.
- Those front wing elements? Fiddly as all heck.
- Getting the floor to sit right without a massive gap? Took some serious clamping and hoping.
- And don’t forget accidentally gluing your fingers together at least once. Classic.
Then came the decals. The decals! I actually dread this part more than the tiny bits sometimes. That massive Red Bull logo on the engine cover, trying to get it to lay flat over all those curves without tearing or wrinkling? Pure, unadulterated stress. I used so much decal softener, I think the fumes were making me lightheaded. There were moments, I’m not gonna lie, where I just wanted to throw the whole thing against the wall. Seriously, it’s a bigger test of will than trying to get a straight answer from customer service.
I actually left it on my desk for a few days at one point. Just couldn’t look at it. It sat there, judging me. Every time I walked past, it was like, “You gonna finish me, or what?” But, you know, you get so far in, you can’t just quit. So, I took a deep breath, put on some good tunes, and just pushed through it. One tiny decal, one more painted part at a time.
Slowly, very slowly, it started to actually look like the RB18. Snapped the wheels on – that was a good feeling. Put the final clear coat on it to seal everything in. Stood back and had a good look.
And there it was. My little Red Bull RB18. It’s not perfect, that’s for sure. If you squint, you can probably see a fingerprint or two, maybe a slightly wonky decal. But it’s mine. I built it. All that frustration, all those tiny parts, all that careful painting. It was a proper journey. Was it a pain in the backside? You bet. Am I glad I did it? Yeah, I actually am. It’s pretty satisfying to see it sitting there. Would I do another one right away? Ask me in a month. Right now, I think I’ve earned a break and maybe a strong coffee.
