Lived behind a blacksmith shop in Valliant, Oklahoma and I spent hours watching the smithy. He could "eyeball" where a fender brace was missing, shape one out, and it fit perfectly almost every time! Arc weld it to the frame, bolt it to the fender, and say,"Well that dude won't ever fall off!"
With a torch he welded up horribly cracked fenders, hit them with a wire brush, brushed them with black paint while hot, and would say, "NEXT!"
Out back, a corn grinder, powered by a hit & miss engine, Aaaaah! the smell of freshly ground cornmeal, combined with the smell of the black paint on a HOT fender!
Kinda' smelled like a hot patch burning!
Life was good, and still is! Bill W.