Thai Barbecues
Diving Masks & Fins
Bassoons

The word barbecue seems to originate in haiti where indigenous people developed a method of cooking meat outdoors over a wooden structure long before columbus arrived.

Nobody knows exactly when humans started grilling.

But it's safe to assume that we've been cooking outdoors longer than indoors.

In thailand, many homes and restaurants have a popular kind of barbecue.

It's a small portable charcoal burner.

This new, more efficient design has become increasingly popular both in thailand and abroad.

Workers start by adding the raw materials to a mixer, beginning with clay.

They add a fiber derived from ground-up rice husks.

This fiber reinforces the clay, giving it added strength and helping to prevent the finished product from cracking at high temperatures.

The correct mixture is two parts clay to one part husk.

Once the mixer thoroughly blends the materials, it extrudes the resulting compound in a thick ribbon, ready for the next phase of production.

A worker rolls the clay in a small quantity of a third material also derived from rice.

This is rice husk ash.

And adding it to the clay helps prevent mold growth.

A craftsman places the clay inside a specially shaped mold, which sits on a potter's wheel.

As the wheel turns the mold, the craftsman works with a metal arm and handheld tools to spread and shape the clay.

He then removes the fully formed clay pot.

Having marked out three locations on the rim of the pot, a craftsman now adds some husk ask to a handheld mold to prevent sticking.

He then packs the mold with clay before pressing it into the pot's rim and inner surface.

He smoothes the clay around them, integrating them into the pot.

These three elements will form raised supports for cooking pots, woks and kettles.

At this stage, the pot has air dried enough to safely remove it from the mold.

The craftsman now uses a handheld tool to define and finish the edges of the rim and supports.

He then uses a metal, rectangular template to mark and cut out a small vent for air intake at the base of the pot.

An artisan prepares a small disk of clay for a different stage of production.

He uses a cylindrical metal tool to cut a series of 62 holes in the disk, creating a honeycomb pattern that will allow the passage of air.

He uses a small beveled wooden tool to help smooth the edges of the holes.

When the pots are fully formed, workers transfer them to the walk-in oven.

Once there are a total of 500 pots and honeycombs inside, it's time to fire up the oven.

The pots spend 8 hours in the oven at nearly 2,200 degrees fahrenheit.

The firing process gives the gray clay a reddish tinge.

To assemble the barbecues, a worker starts by creating a layer of rice husk between the clay pot and the zinc bucket.

This insulates the metal from the barbecue's heat.

He cuts out the rectangular vent that will allow air to flow into the bottom of the barbecue and help fuel the fire.

He adds soil to the gap between the pot and the bucket to further insulate the exterior metal from the interior heat.

The craftsman now seals all the gaps in the barbecue with mortar in order to keep the husk and soil firmly in place.

The honeycomb disk fits perfectly into the bottom of the pot.

It will hold charcoal up above the vent hole, allowing air to flow up through it, fueling the fire, while permitting ash to fall down into the cavity below.

A worker carefully mortars the disk in place.

This barbecue is a low-tech but highly effective outdoor stove, useful whenever it's too hot to cook inside.

If you're scuba diving, free diving or snorkeling, you need a mask to maintain a layer of air between your eyes and the water.

Without that barrier, your eyes can't focus under water.

Fins are another diving must-have to let you push away more water when you kick and give you stronger propulsion.

Diving fins consist of a foot pocket and a blade.

The blade has side arms running down its length.

These strengthen the blade and amplify the forward thrust a kicking foot generates.

The parts are made of thermoplastic.

To make the fin blade, the manufacturers mix clear thermoplastic granules with a specific portion of color dye granules and drop them into the feed tank of an injection molding machine.

The factory uses certain types of thermoplastic when making fins with a stiff blade and other types when making more flexible models.

The machine heats the granules until they melt then injects the liquefied thermoplastic into a blade-shaped mold.

The plastic quickly cools and solidifies.

Then the mold opens.

And extractors eject the blade.

A robot grasps the blade with suction and removes it from the mold.

As the robot lifts the blade out of the machine, the mold closes again to receive another injection to make the next blade.

The robot deposits the blade onto a conveyer belt which transports it through a cold-air tunnel.

This cools the thermoplastic enough to enable the upcoming component materials to properly adhere to the blade.

The next robot picks up the cooled blade and moves it to another injection molding machine, which performs a process known as over printing, molding on additional parts until the fin is completed.

The robot first removes the previous completed fin fresh out of the over printing injection mold.

This machine melted down granules of thermoplastic rubber, a more flexible material, and simultaneously injection molded the side arms and the foot pocket onto the blade.

Once the robot pulls off this completed fin, it loads the new blade into the mold.

As the mold closes for the next injection, the robot deposits the finished fin into a conveyer belt.

The over printing process also applied the manufacturer's name and some decorative elements.

By changing the molds on the injection machines and using different types and colors of thermoplastic materials, the factory produces a wide range of fin models.

A diving mask is made up of a flexible silicone facial skirt attached to a rigid frame with lenses.

The skirt, which this injection molding machine produces from liquid silicone, seals the frame to the face, preventing water infiltration.

While thermoplastic must be melted before injection, then cooled to a solid state, silicone must be injected combined with a hardening agent then heated to a solid state.

The frame is made the same way as the fins but using a more rigid type of thermoplastic.

A worker begins assembling the mask by threading a silicone head strap through the frame's buckles.

They attach the silicone skirt, first pressing the nose portion into the bridge of the frame.

Then the worker connects the eye area.

The frame is designed to enable the silicone skirt to slot right in.

Next, the lenses, which are made of tempered glass.

While they're highly resistant, they don't withstand frontal impact.

So the diver shouldn't plunge into the water face first.

The final step is to clip in rigid thermoplastic lens retainers and clamp each one securely to the lens and frame.

The mask is now ready for a final inspection to make sure no water will seep in when you wear it.

Just like fins, there's a wide range of diving mask models designed to see through different types of underwater exploration.

The bassoon was developed in france in the 17th century.

It was a bass woodwind instrument like no other before it.

It extended the range downward by a whole tone.

This was a woodwind instrument that could hold its own against the bass strings.

You could hear the difference.

In the bassoon, the pipe is doubled up into a tight u for an instrument that has the necessary length to produce the low notes but is not unwieldy.

To make a bassoon, they use bosnian maple.

It's a dense wood stable enough to prevent vibrations.

A cutting tool takes off the corners of the wood block as it begins to shape it into the end part of the bassoon, the bell joint.

Using a reaming tool, they drill a cone-shaped air column into the bell joint.

The next automated cutting tool trims the circumference and forms a rim on the end.

From a rough piece of wood to a contoured pipe, this bell joint has taken shape.

At another station, a bassoon technician drills angled finger holes into the wing or tenor joint.

Then he files the ends of metal tubes to shape them to an angle that matches that of the finger holes.

The technician also files down the outside of the tubes and carves grooves into them.

He applications epoxy glue to the grooves and installs the tubes in the finger holes.

The glue seals the tubes to the finger holes.

The technician checks for light around the tube installations.

That would indicate an improper seal.

The next member of the team stains the bell joint to enhance the wood grain.

She applies the same finish to every part of the bassoon.

There are four joints that can be disassembled to fit into a carrying case.

She also brushes a special lacquer over the stain.

This lacquer is believed to effect the instrument's tone, giving it a round resonance.

After a light sanding, the parts are buffed to restore the shine.

The other craftsman now drills tone holes into the long joint.

He drills a groove for the musician to slide his or her finger down to the c key.

He relies on this metal template to correctly place the tone holes and the holes for the key posts.

Over to the next station, a technician drills threads into the key holes.

He injects oil into the holes throughout the drilling process.

This provides lubrication to the drill to prevent splintering of the wood.

He clamps a key post in a special gripping tool to hold it firmly as he files it to the correct length.

The technician screws the key post into the threaded hole.

Once it's installed, he removes the gripping tool.

Using a long drill aimed laterally, he carves holes into the sides of the key posts.

The technician installs a key by fitting a hinge tube into the holes in the post.

He confirms that the pad cup on the end covers the tone hole completely.

Satisfied with the positioning, he unpins the key and solders the hinge tube to it.

When the solder solidifies, he files down the bulge.

Silver plating gives it a uniform finish.

A technician then glues the back of a piece of cork sized to fit the rim of the bassoon's long joint.

He wraps the cork around the rim.

And he files it to make the seam disappear.

He then sands it smooth.

Cork provides a flexible link between the instrument joints.

It will tolerate the expansion and contraction of the wood due to temperature changes.

A computer-controlled laser etches product information onto the instrument's wing and boot joints.

The technician equips the end of the bell joint with a decorative plastic ring.

It's an alternative to ivory, which is in short supply.

Stay tuned for more as they prepare this bassoon for a life of performance.

The bassoon is often called the clown of the orchestra because of its ability to produce impish and almost comical sounds.

It also deepens the symphonic sound with its rich, mellow tones.

It may be the clown, but the bassoon makes a serious contribution to the orchestral ensemble.

A bassoon craftsman glues a silver-plated collar to the end of the bell joint that attaches to the long joint.

The collar reinforces the wood.

And it also gives this end of the bell joint a finished look.

He uses a block of wood to absorb the impact of the blows as he hammers the glued collar snugly in the recess in the bell joint.

Production now moves back to the bassoon's keys, as another craftsman polishes the silver to a mirror finish.

Each bassoon has between 38 and 46 keys, depending on the model.

Finishing these keys is the most intense part of the bassoon-making process.

The technician glues padding to the key cups, spatulas and levers.

The padding will muffle the clicks of the keys so they don't rise above the music.

They use different materials, depending on the length of the keys.

Longer keys make more noise.

So they receive thick cork padding.

The technician files the edges of the pads to make them flush to the key parts.

The shorter keys receive the thinner rubber pads.

Again, filing gets rid of the extra material around the edges.

On the spatula of this medium-length key, the technician installs a felt pad.

Felt is thicker than rubber but thinner than cork.

As you can see, applying pads to the bassoon's keys is a real science.

With that job done, he moves onto the next step, attaching the rubber rollers that enable the musician to play faster.

The technician inserts screws in the hollow of the rollers to secure them to the keys.

And he screws them tightly in place.

He then fastens flat springs to some keys so they'll spring back once played.

The next technician melts wax into the key caps that will close the tone holes of the bassoon.

And while the wax is still molten, she inserts a felt and cardboard pad covered with goat leather.

She secures the key to the long joint.

The wax has hardened a bit by now.

So she heats it up again using a torch.

This softens it so she can manipulate the pad so it sits perfectly in the cup.

The technician props up the end of the key with a piece of cork.

And this stops the key from moving until the wax solidifies.

They install the boot joint keys the same way.

Inside the boot joint are two parallel pipes made of hard rubber.

The bassoon technician places a seal on the end of the joint.

He installs a silver-plated u-shape tube over it.

And this creates a turning point for air.

He caps it to prevent air from escaping.

The technician attaches a hand rest to the boot joint.

He fastens a long clip to the instrument for the bassoon strap.

It's adjustable for different shoulder positions.

The steel bocal or crook connects the reed to the bassoon.

All the parts should now fit together perfectly.

The technician attaches the four joints.

He inserts the wing joints into one of the boot's joint holes.

He installs the long joint in the other.

He locks the wing and long joints together with a little mechanism.

The technician then connects the bell joint to the long joint.

He places the bocal in its socket atop the wing joint.

He then checks the bocal's vent key to confirm that it opens and closes correctly.

And now a professional musician tests the bassoon and tunes it.

With his okay, the bassoon leaves the factory ready to join the orchestra.


Millefiori Glass Paperweights
Road Salt
Nutcrackers
Car Doors

"millefiori" is italian for "a thousand flowers".

It's also an elaborate glass-making technique developed in 15th-century italy in which pattern-colored glass rods are cut, grouped to form floral shapes, arranged into intricate patterns, then encased in clear crystal.

If a picture's worth a thousand words, these thousand-flower paperweights speak for themselves.

Two canadian artists craft these millefiori masterpieces just as the renowned glass makers of murano, italy, did centuries ago.

A mix containing silica sand, soda ash, and lime is heated to 2,400 degrees fahrenheit, melting it into lead-free liquid crystal.

With a molten-crystal post, they pick up a densely colored bar of glass.

They roll and shape the white color bar while stabilizing the post with cold water.

Then with a torch, they preheat an aluminum mold of a flower or other motif.

Preheating the mold helps the glass flow into it more easily and assume the shape in greater detail.

Once they've molded the colored glass, they return to the furnace to encase it in molten crystal.

Then they repeatedly heat and shape the crystal with tools and with steam on a wad of wet newspaper until the crystal encases the flower-shaped color evenly.

After reheating, they put some molten crystal on the end of another rod and grab the free end of the crystal-encased color.

They wait until the glass cools to a specific consistency.

Then they begin to pull.

They slowly stretch the glass into a thin and even rod, careful not to twist it, as that would distort the flower shape of the colored glass inside.

This produces what's called a murrini cane-- a clear crystal rod with a colored, flower-shaped center.

Once the murrini solidifies, they nip it into manageable lengths.

Then they take murrini of different colors and designs, cut them into short rods, and bundle them into a pattern called a complex murrini.

They preheat the complex murrini in a kiln to prevent shock-induced cracking.

They now pick it up with a hot crystal post and, after removing the bundling wires, heat and work the group of glass rods into one.

They now stretch this complex murrini into what's known as complex murrini cane.

Once the cane stabilizes, they cut it into yardlong lengths, then cool them gradually in a kiln to relieve any stresses in the glass.

Then they slice the lengths into pieces 2/10 of an inch-- the size required for the millefiori paperweights.

Now, using complex murrini pieces of different colors and patterns, they assemble the paperweight design, placing a unique, hand-constructed murrini in the center.

This one is a trillium.

Next, they encircle the setup with a heat-resistant graphite ring.

This holds the pieces in position.

After a final adjustment, the artists preheat a white, lace-patterned glass base they prepared earlier.

This base will serve as a blank canvas for the colorful paperweight pattern.

They push the molten crystal onto the base.

The ring contains it to the base's diameter.

Then they reheat the base, making it smooth and free of air pockets, preheat the complex murrini setup, and stick the base onto it.

Like before, the ring contains the spread.

Another overall reheating softens the glass and fully fuses all the components.

This fills crevices and smoothes the surface.

Now they return to the furnace to encase this paperweight core in molten crystal.

Using standard glass-making techniques, they work the crystal to a bulbous shape.

Then on the bottom, they form a break-off point.

A sharp tap on the rod cracks the glass at that point, separating it from the rod.

They heat the break-off point and insert a piece of cane bearing the artist's initials.

After a 12-hour controlled cooling in the kiln, they grind the base level.

Then they polish away the scratches left by the grinding wheel.

After a thorough inspection, these magnificent millefiori paperweights are ready to be shipped to art-glass collectors worldwide.

When the road ahead is a sheet of ice, rock salt can make the problem melt away.

Salt lowers the melting point of water to thaw ice and also prevents its formation.

Salt was first used to de-ice highways and walkways in the 1930s, but it was only in the 1960s that its use spread.

Unprocessed rock salt actually looks like the ice it will eventually be used to melt.

This salt comes from huge crystalline caverns a thousand feet below the earth's surface along the canada/u.s. border.

That's 2/10 of a mile underground.

These massive deposits were formed hundreds of millions of years ago when saltwater lakes dried up.

The clarity of this rock salt is a sign of its purity.

This mineral is 98% sodium chloride, or salt.

They extract it in chunks from the rock's face by using explosives and drilling.

Then a loader scoops up the broken pieces of salt.

This is called a low-profile loader.

It has a shorter height to fit into tight spaces underground.

It transfers the salt to the primary crusher.

This crusher is a spiked cylinder that spins to break the salt into pieces small enough to be moved on a conveyor.

The conveyor takes the salt to a production elevator known as a skip.

It takes just a minute and a half for the skip to lift its heavy load aboveground and up a tower.

When it stops, the bottom opens to empty the salty cargo.

The salt funnels into two chutes and lands on vibrating screens.

These screens are essentially big automated salt shakers.

As they pulsate, they shake out the smaller bits, while larger chunks move on to be crushed again.

Then it's on to more shaking sifters.

These screen out the very fine particles, and what's left will be used as de-icing salt.

There are several sifters in this room.

They also sift out particles that are about 4/10 of an inch in size to be used as water-softening product.

And for this purpose, the darker bits are seen as undesirable, so they remove those with something called an optical sorter.

The optical sorter bounces light off the salt particles, and a computer reads the reflection to determine if they're light or dark.

Jets of compressed air then target the dark bits and blast them downward, while the white particles continue forward.

A closer look confirms that the optical sorter has done its job effectively.

The salt meant for water softening is pure white, while a few darker speckles is acceptable for road salt.

Outside in the holding area, the salt accumulates in piles that look like huge snow drifts.

If the winter is harsh, road crews will use it as fast as it piles up.

When it comes to bulk purchasing, orders don't come much bigger than this.

Highway maintenance departments buy de-icing salt by the truckload and create their own stockpiles to be prepared for stormy weather.

But individual consumers, of course, buy de-icing salt by the bag.

In the packaging department, automated trays relay plastic bags to grippers overhead, and the system moves them forward.

Suctioning robot arms pry each bag open.

A puff of air inflates the bag, while a nozzle pipes measured amounts of the de-icing salt into the bag.

Once the bag is full, the system moves it forward again, and not a grain of salt is spilled.

Finally, a heat sealer melts the plastic to close the package.

It's taken about an hour for this rock salt to be mined, crushed, sifted, and packaged.

And now they're ready to take it to the street.

The first nutcrackers were plain, purely functional devices.

By the 15th century, european woodcarvers began crafting beautiful nutcrackers shaped like animals and people.

German artisans became known for their majestic nutcracker kings and soldiers, just like the one in tchaikovsky's famous ballet.

This german company has been crafting character nutcrackers since 1928.

Like porcelain figurines, these nutcrackers sell as limited-edition collectibles.

At hundreds of dollars each, people don't actually use them for the intended purpose.

But they can and do perform the job.

You simply manipulate a lever to open, then close the mouth to crack the nutshell.

On the factory floor, they use a multiblade circular saw to cut all the body parts out of linden wood.

Linden is ideal because it's lightweight, easy to carve, and its color is pale enough to mimic skin.

These blocks are on their way to becoming nutcracker torsos.

First, they go through a planer.

It trims the four sides of each block, forming an octagonal shape...

From square to octagonal and next to round.

But first, workers use a circular saw to cut the blocks into torso-length pieces.

A conveyor feeds the pieces one by one into an automatic, multi-station lathe.

The first station rounds out the octagon, then forms the basic torso shape.

The second station finalizes the shape.

Then the next four stations sand the wood smooth so that the wood stain they'll apply later on will penetrate well and evenly.

Then the torsos go three at a time into a vertical router.

It cuts a notch in each one for the lever that opens and closes the nutcracker's mouth.

Next stop is a drilling machine, which simultaneously drills all the holes required to attach the body parts, as well as the lever's axle.

Now they dress the torso in a coat, which they create simply by staining the wood a dark color.

Once the stain dries, they spray on two coats of semigloss lacquer.

Every nutcracker stands on a wooden base, under which they burn the company's logo.

It's a mark of authenticity for collectors.

The automatic lathe also shapes the other body parts, including the head.

Workers attach a nose, then, using a router, cut holes for the eyes.

Then they lightly spray on a touch of red paint to simulate a sun-kissed nose and rosy cheeks.

Then, with a steady hand, they paint the whites of the eyes...

And the eyebrows.

Once the paint dries, they apply some glue to the center of each eye, then affix an iris and pupil made of enameled tin.

Now they align the head with the torso and screw the parts together.

After decorating the coat with buttons and a buckle, they glue a strip of rabbit-fur hair to the head...

A rabbit-fur beard to camouflage the notch for the lever, then they mount the torso onto the legs, which wear painted-on boots and stand on the base.

Then this nutcracker percussionist gets his drum, along with arms and drumsticks.

They top him off with a hat made of spray-painted wood.

Most of the nutcracker's parts join together with wooden dowels.

A large dowel running across the notch in the torso is the axle on which the lever rotates.

This extensive cast of nutcracker characters comes in various sizes, and you can even special-order a life-sized version.

Car doors have come a long way over the last century.

They're lighter for improved fuel efficiency and stronger to better withstand the force of an impact.

They also contain a lot of electronic gadgetry, like speakers and power windows, all of which enhance the daily commute.

A car door is one of the first things many people reach for as they start their day, so let's unlock the mystery of how it's made.

It all starts with carbon steel, an alloy that's strong, yet malleable.

Machinery uncoils and straightens it.

A large blade slices it to the desired length, producing sheets called blanks.

Then it's over to a powerful press.

This particular one is a trial press, which offers a better view of the process than the one on the production line.

The press forces the blank into a die, giving it the basic shape of two car doors.

It's a design that's been engineered for both aerodynamics and strength.

Back on the production line, the main press is churning out car doors.

An automated device with fingers then grips the newly shaped steel and transfers it to a punch cutter.

It separates the two doors and trims the excess metal from the edges.

With the outer door panels now complete, a handler inspects them for bumps, dents, or scratches.

He approves only those that are absolutely flawless.

The next worker arranges the window frame, a reinforcing plate for the hinge, and the inner door panel, all on a special clamping fixture.

Its fingers grip the parts to hold them in position as the fixture rotates and two robots move in to weld them together.

At the next station, the worker arranges steel bars and tubes on a robotic platform.

They add strength to the door so it will better withstand any impact.

He places the inner door panel over the bars and tubes.

The robotic platform angles the parts for welding.

Another robot applies adhesive to the rim of the outer door panel.

More robots dab adhesive at strategic locations.

Those dabs match up to the tubes and bars on the inner panel as they mate it to the outer one.

A special press then folds the lip of the outer panel over the inner one.

This hemming gives the assembled car door a neater edge.

With the inner and outer panels now joined, the car door undergoes rustproofing, paint, and other protective treatments.

Now, over on the assembly line, a worker fits the handle into its niche and bolts it to the door from the other side.

Chrome trim is clipped into place.

Moving down the line, a worker installs a small, fixed window in the groove of the frame.

He uses a plastic protector to prevent scratches as he slides the larger window into its slot in the door and links it to a power-lifting mechanism inside.

He separates the two windows with a metal divider.

At the next station, this car door gets an automated side-view mirror.

They're now ready for the inner panel and its workings.

The employee wires the panel to the door and snaps it into place.

He tests the power windows, and they close to a tight seal, indicating a successful installation.

A special elevator now lowers the completed car doors 6 1/2 yards to the next station.

A worker unloads each door with the help of a pneumatic arm.

This device shoulders the weight of the part and correctly positions the door for installation.

He drives bolts into hinges to attach the door to the car.

On the door side, the heavy-duty reinforcement plate surrounds the hinges and supports them.

The whole weight of the door will hang on this plate as it swings open and shut.

With all the panels installed, it's time for the final adjustments.

They call this finessing.

They examine each panel to confirm that it's flush to the rest of the car body, and they tweak the installation job where needed.

Finally, they're satisfied the assembly is airtight, so it's time to close the door on this production.


Carbon Fiber Bicycles
Blood Products
Forged Chandeliers
Ballpoint Pens

Carbon fibers are minute hairs of almost pure carbon.

They may be tiny, but they're three times stronger and four times lighter than steel.

Weaving them together and bonding them with plastic resin, then molding this material into a bike frame creates one lean, mean peddling machine.

This company builds custom-made carbon fiber bicycles for professional athletes and serious amateurs.

The first step is to take detailed measurements-- height, weight, and limb length, as well as shoulder width for handlebar spacing, inseam for the seat placement, and even shoe size for the positioning the pedals, relative to the front wheel.

Computer software translates these data into a geometric diagram of a customized bike frame.

A cutting machine slices out carbon fiber shapes that will become the frame components.

The bicycle frame is made up of nine parts.

They make each one with an aluminum mold and a latex balloon called a bladder.

They wrap the bladder with a layer of carbon fiber.

The fibers in the material all run in one direction.

So to add strength, they apply several layers in a specific crisscross pattern.

After coating the mold cavity with a release agent to prevent sticking, they place the wrapped bladder inside, then install an inflation cap.

They place the mold in a specialized heat press, hook up pressurized gas, then insert a temperature and pressure monitor.

The inflated bladder forces the carbon fiber to take the shape of the mold cavity.

After about 20 minutes, they extract the molded part, then begin the refining process.

First, they sand off any release-agent residue.

Then they machine the part to exact specifications for a precision fit with its connecting parts.

Following the geometric diagram, they assemble the bicycle frame like a puzzle.

Once they're sure everything fits together properly, they disassemble the pieces, then coat the connectors with superstrong aerospace adhesive.

They reassemble the parts, then cure the glue in an oven for about a half-hour.

The bicycle frame now goes onto an inspection table.

A technician uses digital measuring equipment to ensure the alignment is perfect.

The next step is to install test wheels and check that they rotate perfectly straight.

Back to the frame.

They remove any excess glue that oozed out when they slid the part together and give the frame an overall sanding.

The surface must be perfectly smooth before they can paint it.

They do all the painting by hand with spray guns.

First, they coat the frame in a primer and sealer.

Then they use a series of adhesive stencils to apply the paint colors one at a time.

They spray on a coat of clear automotive lacquer.

This protects the paint against u.v. light and chipping.

Next, using this tap, they remove paint that dried inside the threads and the base of the frame, where the gear mechanisms screw on.

They repeat this procedure at the head of the frame, where the handlebars attach.

Now it's just a matter of installing the specific components that the customer ordered.

The carbon fiber frame delivers maximum strength and stiffness with minimal weight.

It's the key to the bicycle's high-end performance.

The average person has 5 1/3 quarts of blood running through their veins.

Out of this blood come three products that can save lives-- red blood cells that carry oxygen, platelets that help stop bleeding, and plasma, a protein-rich liquid that helps us fight infection.

Hospitals need all blood types to help them save lives.

One day, your life could depend on donated blood.

In this setup, an automated machine collects the donor's blood and separates it according to which blood product they need.

The collection machine draws whole blood from a donor's arm and separates out the mixed plasma and platelets, which is the color of straw.

In every setup, some blood is diverted into a pouch for testing.

In this method, they're collecting whole blood that will be separated at the lab.

A worker then draws blood from the pouch for testing at the lab.

Meanwhile, the machine mixes the whole blood with an anticoagulant so it won't clot in the bag.

The donors' blood samples then go to the lab, where they determine the blood type and test for infectious diseases.

This high-volume, high-quality blood-testing machine is unique to the blood-banking world.

Fully automated, it helps ensure the safety of the blood supply by testing donor samples for things like hepatitis b, c, and h.i.v. in eight hours, it runs five different blood tests on 1,000 donations without human intervention.

Between each of these tests, it sterilizes every single probe in a wash solution.

Another machine determines the blood type, of which there are eight.

They scan the donor's collection bag and document what products they will produce from the blood.

Then they weigh it.

Overnight, gravity causes the blood to separate into its three components, so a worker re-mixes it, preparing it for machine separation.

She then packs the blood in the bags for the other components into what's called a liner.

She makes sure the liners are balanced and will put a rubber weight inside when she needs to.

Balancing the liners keeps the centrifuge machine spinning properly at 4,000 rpm, as it separates the blood into layers.

She then hooks up the unit of separated blood to an automated extractor and, once again, matches the unit with the donor.

The extractor fills a bag with just red blood cells.

As the machine fills the bag, it leaves behind a mixture of blood and platelets in the original container.

As it extracts these red blood cells and leaves behind a portion of blood and platelets, it also fills another container with pure plasma.

An incubator keeps the processed platelets well-mixed.

They only have five days to use these platelets.

However, they freeze plasma and can use it for 12 months.

Finally, they filter out the white blood cells from the red blood cells, using what's called a leukoreduction filter.

They also introduce an additive solution into the red blood cells and mix it all together.

The additive helps the red blood cells survive for 42 days, both inside a fridge and during transportation to the hospitals.

Today most forged chandeliers are wired for electricity.

We've replaced the candles used in earlier times with decorative bulbs and lampshades.

But a forged chandelier still relies on traditional blacksmithing techniques and the hand assembly of components used in modern lighting fixtures.

To build this two-tiered chandelier, the artisan begins by making the twist-basket shape.

First, he cuts lengths of steel bar with this shearing machine.

He arranges six of those bars in a bundle, held firmly together by this welding fixture.

He welds the bars together, leaving a hole in the center, through which the wires will pass.

A worker puts the bundle into a forge that softens the steel at more than 1,800 degrees fahrenheit.

She then mounts the softened bundle in a twisting machine, securing it tightly in place.

She turns the wheel, spiraling the bars together.

She then reverses the wheel, causing the center of the bundle to pop out, creating the twist-basket design.

She makes sure the shape is symmetrical.

Then she verifies its length in a gauge.

Next, they clean the basket with tiny steel beads in a process called bead blasting.

Here, they make the j-shaped arms used for the upper tier of the chandelier from metal tubing, which they shape in this rotary bending machine.

With the same machine, they also make the s-shaped arms used for the lower tier of the chandelier.

All the arms are hollow, which will allow wires to pass through them.

A vibrating ceramic medium then polishes all the components that make up the chandelier to give them a smooth finish.

Using a mounting fixture, a worker places the polished upper arms in what's called a distributor.

He welds the arms to the distributor, which both supports them and gives them the proper alignment.

He welds the lower arms to another distributor.

Next, he welds metal tubing onto each end of the twist basket.

This tubing makes it possible to connect all the decorative components.

A worker then attaches those decorative components, which includes a loop to hang the chandelier and an end cap that attaches to the distributor.

She completes what is called the center core by tightening everything in place.

Then they spray the upper and the lower arms, as well as the center cores, with powder coating, a finely ground plastic about the consistency of talcum powder.

The center cores and arms then go into an oven, where heat cures and bonds the powder coating, giving the parts a hard finish.

A worker then connects the upper and lower tiers by fitting the distributors together.

This hides the wiring connections.

He secures the center core to the distributors using a decorative finial ball.

He then puts candle sleeves on to hide the light-bulb sockets and wires.

The twist-basket chandelier is now ready to brighten your day.

Forged chandeliers help establish the mood of a room.

They come in various styles, from classic to ultramodern, and their designs are limited only by an artist's imagination.

In a world where inexpensive, disposable ballpoint pens are the norm, there are still discriminating people who prefer using a deluxe writing instrument.

A fancy, high-quality ballpoint pen is as stylish as it is functional.

It's often paired with a matching pencil in an elegant gift set.

Silver plated, alligator leather, chain mail, rose gold with crystals-- pen casing designs are endless.

This model is decorated with lacquer made from the resin of a particular tree that grows only in china.

They apply it using a special brush made of human hair.

Coating the recessed areas of a brass pen casing creates the effect of black stripes running the length of the pen.

Once the resin dries, they wash the pen several times.

Then, with a cotton wheel and some polishing compound, they buff the lacquer to a high-gloss shine.

Here's another model with an etched design.

A computer-guided machine engraves the fine, intricate pattern with a diamond chisel.

The casing is brass, but they'll plate it in a precious metal such as gold, platinum, or rhodium.

Every pen, regardless of design, has a brass or sheet-steel clip that coordinates with the rest of the pen.

They position the clip on a press, and it applies just enough pressure to push tiny pegs into holes in the cap.

The factory tests every clip for tension resistance.

It has to stretch to a certain extent, then return to its original shape.

The pen's tip is made of brass plated in silver, gold, or rhodium.

This machine drills the hole through which the retractable ballpoint will protrude.

This machine injects ink inside the pen cartridges, which are made of brass.

It then caps the writing end with the tip containing a tiny stainless-steel ball.

As the pen writes, the ball transfers ink to the paper.

The machine then flips the cartridge in the opposite direction and shoots some grease through the other end.

This seals the ink inside.

Now the filled cartridges go for a ride on a centrifuge machine, which pushes the ink down toward the ballpoint.

This machine runs random samples through a quality-control test for ink flow, ensuring each cartridge outputs 8 kilometers of quality writing.

A twist mechanism at the top extends and retracts the cartridge writing tip through the pen tip.

The factory tests the mechanism on each and every model thousands of times.

Now onto another model-- this one decorated in chain mail.

Workers cut the material to pen length, then fasten it around the brass pen casing.

After several washes in water and solvent-free detergent, followed by several rinses, they precision-glue the tip and cap to the casing.

Then they insert the cartridge, along with a spring to provide resistance when the ballpoint presses against the paper.

Finally, they cap the top with either a push-button mechanism like this one or a twist mechanism as we saw before.

Before packaging, every single pen undergoes one last quality-control check under magnification to be absolutely certain that even if your spelling is poor, your writing will be great.


Mortars and Pestles
Bowling Lane Conditioners
Crematories
Wood Playsets

Today on "how it's made"...

Together, the mortar and pestle form some of the oldest and most useful of humanity's inventions.

Their image adorns many pharmacology symbols because pharmacists have been using them to prepare medicine for centuries.

But it's with food that this simple tool is most closely associated.

The basic principle is simple enough-- put the object you want to crush in a bowl, then take a stick and grind it down.

But not all mortars and pestles are alike.

For one thing, the material used can make all the difference.

Wooden and ceramics work well.

But for many, nothing beats stone.

Granite provides a tough, non-porous surface.

A craftsman prepares to carve.

He starts by using a masonry compass and a liquid called chinese ink to draw the mortar's inner and outer circumference.

He can easily remove the ink if there are any errors.

He roughs out the shape with a hammer and chisel.

He then works with a grinder which is equipped with an extremely hard diamond-tipped blade, making it possible to cut through solid stone.

Once's he's defined the outside edge, he begins to work the inner bowl, carving out the perimeter before cutting a grid.

He turns again to his hammers and chisels to remove material from the inside of the mortar.

He uses the grinder to cut the last chunks and fine-tune the surface, giving it the smooth, consistent shape of a bowl.

He uses a square to transfer a mark to the bottom of the stone.

He marks the based with his compass.

The circumference of the base must be slightly smaller than the top.

He quickly roughs out the base with one of his chisels.

Then it's back to the grinder, which he uses to clean up the circumference and begin making a series of angle cuts into the sides.

With hammer and chisel, he knocks off the pieces left between the angle cuts.

Thanks to years of experience, he makes it look easy.

With the grinder, he works away at all of the surfaces, smoothing them to a consistent finish.

One wrong move with this tool could mean being forced to start over, but this is a highly skilled artisan.

More than 10 years of training make it possible for him to work with unhesitating speed and assurance, completing a finished mortar in less than an hour and a half.

But, of course, there's something missing.

A mortar isn't much good without a pestle.

Once again working with the confident swiftness of an expert, the artisan uses his grinder to hone a chunk of granite down to the shape of a well-balanced pestle.

Wide and blunt on one end and narrow enough to easily grasp on the other, the stone is perfectly calibrated to do its job.

In the days before power tools, it would have taken a craftsman a full day to carve a mortar and pestle.

But a carved mortar and pestle isn't necessarily a finished one.

Here, a painter adds the final touches.

Using a small brush and special varnish, he paints a lotus flower design on the lip of the mortar.

He leaves the bowl itself untouched so that no food products will mix with the varnish when crushed.

He then varnishes the exterior of the mortar.

The varnishing process is purely decorative.

Hard stone like granite needs no protective coating to help it endure.

After all, some granite has been around for millions of years.

It takes just 15 to 20 minutes for the varnish to dry.

And with that, the mortar is completely finished.

The lotus flower design isn't the only one available.

This facility produces a wide range of mortars and pestles.

These mortars and pestles may be attractive.

But their appearance is secondary to their function.

There are few tools in a kitchen more durable or more useful than a good mortar and pestle.

In the early days of bowling, shellac-based conditioners were applied to wooden lanes to protect the surface.

Today, robotic machines apply conditioners in different patterns to mainly synthetic lanes, easier ones for the average bowler and more challenging ones for tournament players.

At most bowling alleys, lane cleaning and condition are done automatically by roaming robots.

They apply different conditioners in specific patterns.

The pattern selections are made by league organizers.

It's all about ensuring consistent scoring.

Computerized tools with different bits produce many of the robot's parts.

Here, they carve a block of aluminum into a mounting part for a handle.

This is the blank before and after.

An employee assembles two of the mounting parts to a handle.

He secures them with heavy duty bolts, ensuring that these pressure points will hold up to the job of lifting the 370-pound robotic machine.

He attaches one handle to each of the two side panels.

He installs a sprocket sensor system on one of the side panels.

This sprocket sensor will detect where the robot is and communicate that information to is computer.

He links it to the front wheel with a second sprocket chain, and closes the loop with a master link.

He now lowers the oil buffer brush assembly into the machine.

He inserts the main drive more and then secures it to an aluminum partition with the shaft protruding through the other side.

He then wraps the drive chain around the sprockets of the shaft.

He loops a rubber belt in front of the buffer brush and connects it to the oil applicator.

The applicator will slide on the belt, dispensing small amounts of conditioner.

He installs whisker sensors to the front on each side.

When these whiskers brush the sides of the lane, they'll send a signal to the computer, which will then direct the robot to move more to the center.

The conditioning solution tanks have been equipped with metering pumps and pressure gauges.

He bolts the assembly to the rear wall of the machine.

He pops in the rechargeable battery and connects it to the motor.

The machine is ready for the computerized system that runs it.

This system includes the control panel.

He installs it in the center of the machine, just above the battery.

He then runs the hose from the conditioning tank over to the applicator and connects it.

Moving to the front, another employee unwinds fabric from one roller and attaches the end to the next.

This is part of the cleaning system.

The cloth will scrub the bowling lane after the robot sprays a cleaning solution onto it.

A suctioning squeegee will vacuum up dirt and leftover cleaner and deposit them in this recovery tank.

He then plugs the wiring harness into the computer at the back of the control panel.

It's time for a dry run.

With no cleaner or conditioner in the system yet, the technician powers up the robot and puts it through its paces.

He confirms that every part is in good working order.

He adds cleaning solution to the tank, and it's time prepare the lane conditioners.

They mix the mineral oil-based conditioners in big blenders.

There are nine different recipes, with up to 16 ingredients in each one.

They test each mixture extensively.

They measure the viscosity because it can affect how the conditioner flows on the lane.

And they evaluate the surface tension.

That's its ability to bond to the lane.

With the conditioners approved, it's time to test the robot in special quality control lanes.

During 50 trips down the lanes, a technician evaluates the robot's performance.

He inspects its turning radius and the effectiveness of the sensors.

He also scrutinizes the cleaning and conditioning job.

Satisfied that the conditioning robot works well on its own, he approves it for shipping.

This bowling lane conditioner should be a real game changer and ensure that the path to victory is a well-oiled one.

A crematory is a machine used to cremate bodies swiftly and safely.

Even though the cremated remains are commonly referred to as ashes, they're actually bone fragments.

The family may choose to inter them, preserve them in an urn, or scatter them in a meaningful place.

This pet crematory has three small chambers.

The human version has a single chamber large enough to accommodate a casket.

Inside, flames from a gas burner engulf the deceased, and the burning body releases fluids and gases which flow to a secondary chamber in the back, where another burner incinerates them.

The crematory's frame is made of ultra-strong tubular steel, because the structure must withstand expansion and contraction, as the chamber heats up to more than 1,800 degrees fahrenheit during cremation, then cools down afterward.

Once workers have cut steel tubing to the lengths required, they place the pieces in a jig, which configures them correctly for assembly.

After ensuring the tubes are flush, workers clamp them to the jig to prevent them from shifting out of position.

Then they weld the tubes together, assembling then connecting the multiple sections of the frame.

Next, thick sheets of steel for the crematory's floor and walls.

Workers clamp the sheets in position, then fuse them to the frame with just over 5-inch long welds on the outside and full-length welds along the inside seams to completely seal the unit.

They weld steel airlines for oxygenating the the fire in the chambers.

Now, workers begin insulating the chambers to shield the steel structure from the intense heat.

First, they apply adhesive-backed steel pins to the steel walls and affix insulation boards made of heat-resistant ceramic fibers.

They secure the boards to the pins with steel disks.

Workers nail in a second layer of insulation.

These stiffer boards are made of a higher concentration of ceramic fibers, making them even more heat resistant than the first layer.

After insulating the top of the machine the same way, they install an exhaust chimney above the secondary chamber, then a motorized fan that blows air through a long shaft.

The shaft functions as an air supply highway, with exit pipes going to the airlines and to the gas burners in the chambers.

Workers apply two coats of high temperature paint to the machine's steel exterior.

And then it's time to line the chambers with a third and final layer of insulation.

This insulation material is refractory brick.

The term "refractory" means "heat resistant".

The bricks are made of a ceramic material called alumina silica, and can withstand temperatures as high as 2,900 degrees, fahrenheit.

The three layers of insulation absorb the intense heat of the cremation process, which can take 1 to 2 hours, depending on the weight of the body.

They protect the machine's steel structure so that it doesn't degrade and weaken.

Once the mortar dries, workers pour the floor and ceiling, then hang the machine's steel door, which operates on a hydraulically powered chain and sprocket.

The door is lined with insulated refractory brick, which, unlike the chamber brick, reflects rather than absorbs heat.

This prevents the door from getting too hot to handle.

The final step is to wire the chamber heat sensors and other electronics to the electrical panel.

The cremation is automated.

Some machines have gauges and indicator lights which enable the operator to monitor combustion and adjust fuel and airflow as required.

Other machines have a computer, which runs, monitors, and regulates the process from start to finish.

The crematory incinerates all but 5% of the body.

What remains are bone fragments, which are then ground into a powder and returned in a container to the family.

Computer game systems may be the rage, but kids still love to play the old fashioned way-- outside, in the fresh air, on a playset.

And today's playsets are quite often elaborate, with a slew of apparatuses that provide a lot more exercise than a game controller does.

Many playsets are modular systems, which let you choose the components and configuration.

This set combines forts, ladders, monkey bars, a climbing wall, swings, rope, and a slide.

The wood is redwood, a species that's safe for little hands because it's splinter-free.

It's also naturally weather resistant, so it doesn't need to be treated with chemicals to prevent rotting.

Workers first cut out any knots and defects.

Then they saw the wood to the lengths required for different parts.

They load several of the same part onto a computer-guided router.

These are the sides for several ladder kits.

The router cuts slots for the ladder's wooden steps and drills holes for the bolts that attach the ladders to their respective playset.

Worker's manually sand every piece of wood that goes into a playset so that the entire surface is smooth for little hands and knees.

When pieces need to be shaped a certain way, workers run them through this machine.

It's called a wood molder.

Inside, it has four spindles with rotary knives that trim the wood on all sides to specific pre-set dimensions and shape.

A wood molder can make relatively complex cuts to make decorative crown moldings.

However, for these playsets, the molder primarily curves edges and shapes adjoining components to fit together like puzzle pieces.

Here's what a piece looks like before and after it's put through the wood molder for sizing and to round the corners.

Several wood components also go through this piece of equipment, called the double-end cut-off machine.

As the name implies, it saws off a preset amount of wood on each end to standardize length and smooth the surface.

The playset's structure has angled braces in the corners for extra reinforcement.

To make these braces, workers notch the wood pieces on this machine.

Then they round the edges with a router and sand the surface.

Once all the wood parts are shaped and sanded, workers put them on a conveyor belt, which ferries them through a machine called a vacuum coater.

It saturates the part with a non-toxic, water-based reddish stain, then suctions off the excess.

Workers staple an identification label on every part.

Then they bundle together all the parts for the module-- this is the ladder kit-- and put them through a plastic banding machine to tie them together.

The bander works by feeding a continuous plastic strap off a spool.

When the operator steps on a foot pedal, the machine shoots the strap tightly around the bundle, then cuts and heat seals the ends.

Swing, slides, and climbing wall footings are made of molded polyethylene, a flexible and durable type of plastic.

To assemble this baby swing, workers bend it to shape and clamp it in an assembly fixture.

Then, one side at a time, they position the galvanized steel hardware and insert the rivets that will fasten it.

They transfer this assembly to a vice, then drive in the rivets with an air-powered impact gun.

The swing hangs on plastic-coated steel chains.

This module is what they call the split ladder.

It combines a wood step ladder with a more challenging chain ladder.

Plastic-coated steel pipes at the top and bottom link the two.

The galvanized steel chain ladder is coated with plastic to make it softer to the touch.

They complete the unit with a wooden side rail, then place the split ladder on a large vertical press, which forces the parts tightly together.

The unit will be further secured with bolts, once assembled to the playset, along with a selection of additional climbing, dangling, sliding, and swinging options for active little monkeys.


Top & Bowler Hats
Solar Water Heaters
Sticky Buns
Electrostatic Speakers

Top hats and bowler hats both originated in england.

The top hat emerged in the late 1700s as a daring new style, radically higher than the flat 3-cornered hat men wore at the time.

Then the bowler was invented around 1850, as a lower alternative to the top hat.

Today, even women wear bowlers.

Top hats remain, by and large, a masculine fashion statement, reserved for formal occasions, although magicians are still known to use them to produce rabbits.

At the hat factory, workers spray a fine mist of water on hoods, pre-cut hat forms made of 100% wool felt.

After the moisture penetrates overnight, they steam them for about two minutes.

The moisture and heat deactivate a chemical stiffener in the felt, making the material malleable.

Then they place the hood in an aluminum top-hat mold, which applies heat and pressure simultaneously.

They place a string in a groove along the perimeter and pull.

This rolls back the edge of the felt to form a rim.

Then they trim off the excess felt.

After about 90 seconds of molding at approximately 230 degrees fahrenheit, they remove the string and open her up.

The top hat is now dry and fully shaped.

However, the felt is still malleable.

So, to re-activate the stiffener and lock in the shape, they set the hat aside for about 30 seconds to cool.

To make a bowler hat, the process up to that point is identical, but with a bowler-shaped mold.

For both hat styles, it takes two sets of hands to pull the hood taut over the bottom part of the mold, to avoid creating pleats or creases.

There's a separate mold not just for each hat style, but for each size of each style.

After the bowler comes off the mold and cools, they give it a second, more precise trimming.

Both styles are finished the same way.

First a seamstress takes a wide ribbon, folds it over the edge of the hat, and sews it down on both sides, encasing the edge.

Another seamstress uses a gold-leaf stamping machine to apply the traditional british milliner's crest and "made in england" to the hat's lining.

The lining fabric is a silk/satin blend.

She sews the stamped top piece to the side piece.

The machine automatically pleats at regular intervals, so the lining will lie flat against the hat's crown.

Bowler hats are more rigid than top hats, so they require an extra application of stiffener inside the crown.

Once the stiffener dries thoroughly, which takes the better part of a day, the hat is ready to receive its elegant lining.

They attach it with hot glue, which dries almost instantly.

Next they cut a strip of leather to the hat size and sew the ends together with a decorative zigzag stitch.

The leather has been specially treated to prevent mildew build-up resulting from perspiration.

They sew this leather band to the inside of the hat, at the base of the crown, covering the edge of the lining.

Not only does this produce a neat and classy finish, the leather band also makes the hat more comfortable to wear by cushioning the forehead.

Now it's time to finish the outside of the hat.

First they hot-glue a cotton ribbon around the base of the crown.

Next they glue on a matching bow.

The grand finale is a small silk/satin bow on the interior leather band, then below that, the manufacturer's label.

A few taps with the sticky side of adhesive tape easily removes lint, dust, and wayward strands of hot glue.

These elegant toppers and bowlers are the product of several experienced, skilled craftspeople.

Hats off to them.

Domestic water heaters traditionally run on electricity, natural gas, or oil, for which you have to pay and which have an environmental impact.

A newer alternative is a solar-energy system.

It warms water with the heat of the sun, a resource that's not only renewable but free of charge.

Solar panels absorb the sun's energy, heating water, which a pump circulates in a closed loop to a heat exchanger.

The exchanger then transfers the incoming heat to the potable water in the household tank.

Inside the solar panels are copper strips electroplated with tin, which absorb the sun's heat.

The copper surface must be pristine for the plating to adhere.

Therefore, the first operation is a 3-stage cleaning process.

Tin doesn't adhere directly to copper, so they first electroplate with nickel, then plate the nickel with tin.

The plating is brittle, so to protect it, the next station sprays on a thin coat of liquid glass.

The strip then passes through an infrared oven that hardens the glass into a durable protective shield.

As the strip exits the oven, a fiber-optic instrument measures reflectivity.

The less reflective the surface, the better it absorbs heat.

From there, the strip enters the welding machine that fuses it to copper tubing entering from another feeder.

A nozzle sprays cold water onto the mated components, still hot from the welding process.

They're wound onto a giant reel.

The reel feeds a forming machine, which uses heavy steel rollers to press ridges into the strip.

This increases the surface area, meaning it compacts more heat-absorbing metal into a given length of strip.

Next, the machine cuts this continuous fin tube, as it's now called, into the standard-length pieces required to construct the solar panel's internal piping.

Then, a piece at a time, it slices 7/10 of an inch off each end so the tubing protrudes.

Each solar panel contains 10 fin tubes that connect on either side to a header.

To make each header, workers slide an inch-wide copper tube onto a mandrel.

Then they punch 10 holes in the tube, one for each fin tube.

They fit the protruding ends of the fin tubes into these holes and weld the connections.

The finished assembly is called an absorber plate.

It's the key component of the solar panel.

The fins absorb the sun's heat and warm the water circulating through the tubes, down to the heat exchanger.

They pressure-test the absorber by submerging it in water and injecting air through the tubes.

Any bubbles in the water would indicate a leak to be repaired.

Now they cover the headers with a decorative trim and lay the manifold into the solar panel's insulated aluminum housing.

The front is a sheet of tempered glass that allows sunlight to reach the fins inside.

After putting caps on the headers to protect them during transport, they apply the manufacturer's label.

The solar panel is finished.

Now for the other end of the system-- the heat exchanger.

Its tank is made of welded stainless steel.

It has connections for the heat-exchanger pipes running to and from the water heater, as well as for the pipes running the circulating water to and from the solar panels.

Workers install the heat-exchanger unit in the tank, then test it for leaks by filling the tank with water, injecting air through the pipes, and looking for bubbles.

If the unit passes the leak test, they drain the water, close the top of the tank, and center it in an a.b.s. plastic jacket.

Then they inject expanding foam insulation into the void between the tank and jacket.

How does it all work?

The potable cold water in the home's water heater circulates through the loop inside the exchanger.

It absorbs the heat brought in from the solar panels, via a completely separate set of pipes.

The potable hot water then exits the exchanger and returns to the water tank.

Eat one of these, and you'll be sure to find yourself in a sticky situation.

But no worries--  it's all ooey-gooey fun.

A sticky bun is all about messy eating.

Consuming one is a lip-smacking, finger-licking experience-- no utensils required.

Sticky buns are sometimes called schnecken, due to their german origins.

"schnecken" is the german word for snails, which the cinnamon swirl on top resembles.

They start with all-purpose flour, then blend in a pre-mix of sugar, salt, and baking powder.

Cream cheese and butter come next.

These fats are just the right consistency for an automated dough hook to efficiently work them into the dry ingredients.

An employee then pours milk into the blender.

It binds the ingredients, turning the mix into biscuit dough.

The dough needs to stay cool for food-safety reasons, so they monitor the temperature.

The next worker loads the dough into an extruder that squeezes it into a wide, flat strip called the dough band.

The dough band rides a conveyor that slopes down to a narrow channel.

As it enters, the dough folds over from the sides, creating two layers.

A roller squeezes the layers thinner.

A device called the fanner now zigzags back and forth to layer the dough, ribbon-style.

The layers pile up six deep.

And because they were originally two layers, there are now 12 in total.

Metal rollers press the pack down and thin it substantially until it's about 2/10 of an inch thick.

Next up is the sticky-bun filling, called cinnamon schmear.

It starts with blocks of butter and lots of ground cinnamon.

They add brown sugar instead of white.

It has an intense molasses flavor and is stickier than white sugar.

Canola oil loosens and homogenizes the ingredients, transforming the mix into the sugary cinnamon paste known as the schmear.

This cinnamon schmear is the consistency of cake frosting, so it can be easily pumped over to the dough.

A series of nozzles deposit dollops of the cinnamon schmear onto the sticky-bun dough.

The dough travels under a long blade that spreads the cinnamon schmear evenly.

A device called a plow then lifts the outside edges and folds them over.

Rollers press down the curled edges to tighten them.

Each tightly curled edge will now become the center of a sticky-bun roll.

Angled rollers called rollwinders pick up the curled edges of the dough and fold it into two parallel cinnamon rolls.

A guillotine blade slices the parallel rolls into buns, creating sets of two.

Meanwhile, the sweet and sticky topping is bubbling away in a big kettle.

It's made of honey, brown sugar, and butter.

This topping actually goes on the bottom of the baking tray.

They pump it into the container and then toss in pecans to give it some crunch.

Putting the topping on the bottom of the baking tray means, of course, that these sticky buns are to be baked upside down, once purchased by the consumer.

It's a strategic baking technique.

Cooked upside down, the sticky topping will saturate the buns for added moisture.

And by not exposing the topping to direct heat, it won't burn as it caramelizes into a sugary glaze.

The sticky buns now head into a tunnel chilled by liquid nitrogen for a very fast freeze.

After about four minutes, the buns emerge frozen solid, with the freshness locked in.

The sticky buns then ride another conveyor to the wrapping station.

Here, machinery quickly seals plastic film around each box of buns, after which it's into an oven to heat-shrink the plastic.

It all happens in seconds, giving the frozen buns no time to thaw.

It has taken hours of prep work at the factory, but these frozen sticky buns are ready for baking.

All the cook has to do is pop the tray in the oven, and the buns will be ready in 20 minutes.

No need to get your hands sticky by making them from scratch.

Electrostatic speakers added a whole new vibe to the home-music scene.

Unlike traditional box speakers, electrostatic speakers are usually tall and skinny.

And instead of using an electromagnet to produce sound, they rely on conductive layers of plastic and metal.

Electrostatic speakers generate rich audio in the high- and mid-frequency range, but they lack the thumping bass needed for full sound reproduction.

To compensate, most are now equipped with a woofer.

To make the woofer, a computer-driven router cuts out cabinetry parts from veneered mdf.

The router carves long grooves.

They'll be used to fold it into the woofer box.

It also cuts out holes for a speaker cone and hardware.

A worker glues and drills screws into the bottom of the cabinetry for installing the speaker feet.

He trims the excess from the edges of the cabinetry panel.

He beads high-strength glue along the joints and folds the grooved panel to create the cabinet box.

The glue is stronger than screws and acts as a kind of cement to hold the cabinet together.

He sands the wood veneer at the joints for a seamless look.

And now it's into the spray booth for the finishing touch-- a dark, glossy varnish that accentuates the wood grain.

Once the paint dries, a technician pads the inside with a poly-cotton baffle to reduce resonance.

He then installs the crossover unit.

It splits the audio signal to send low notes to the woofer and the rest to the electrostatic panel.

Next up is the power supply and a step-up transformer for boosting the amplifier signal.

He attaches the assembly to the interior wall of the woofer.

He now wires the speaker cone to the crossover unit.

He inserts the cone in the slot machined for it, and it's a perfect fit.

He boosts the bass with the built-in amplifier.

He wires it to the crossover and pops it into the back of the woofer box.

This woofer is now ready to be paired up with its electrostatic mate.

They make the electrostatic speaker from two perforated metal panels.

A technician applies a charge to them to check for thin spots.

Next she bends each one to a 30-degree curve.

This will allow sound to be more widely dispersed in a room.

She presses heavy-duty double-sided tape on to the edges and applies rigid plastic strips, called spars, crosswise.

They stiffen the panels to withstand electrostatic forces.

She now unfurls thin but super-tough plastic and stretches it to a precise tension.

This plastic is the speaker diaphragm.

It's been impregnated with a conductive coating to respond to an electrical charge.

She positions one of the perforated panels under the diaphragm.

And with the backing of the adhesive tape removed, she jacks up the table to press the panel to the plastic.

She attaches wiring that will deliver the charge to the diaphragm and make it vibrate.

She applies more double-sided tape to the other side of the diaphragm and peels off the backing.

Workers position the second speaker panel on the diaphragm and align its fine mesh with that of the panel below.

They place the speaker sandwich in a metal capsule to vacuum-press it together.

They then frame the speaker with an aluminum border and add a strut to the middle for reinforcement.

And now it's time for the electrostatic speaker to be joined to the woofer.

The tall, slim electrostatic speaker will deliver the high and mid frequencies.

The short, boxy woofer will thump out the bass.

Then it's into the test booth to confirm that the speaker has the correct range.

The technician runs an audio-tone sweep and checks for any dropouts in the frequency.

Using a special tool, he verifies that the sound waves of the speaker set are in sync, a process called phasing.

He then places the speaker in a padded room to test a full range of tones.

a computer analyzes the tones.

Once it passes all the tests, this electrostatic speaker links up with the rest of the sound system.

It's now ready for its audience.


Turntables
Steam Engines
Playground Equipment
Non

As the music industry went digital, the turntable seemed destined for the scrap heap.

But this analog technology defied predictions and survived.

With a sound that's arguably fuller and more natural than compressed digital formats, this retro technology is attracting new fans.

In an age when media players are digitized and pocket-sized, the turntable plays on.

The use of high-tech composites like carbon fiber puts a modern spin on this technology, bringing the record player into the 21st century.

[ classical music plays] production starts with a thick square of cast acrylic.

The technician drills a hole in the center.

It will be a reference point as he transforms this square into the turntable platter.

A computerized tool cuts a circle shape out of the square.

The disc then spins while another computer-guided tool enlarges the center hole to size it for the platter's main bearing.

The next tool precisely cuts the surface of the disc to give it the correct angle.

Computerized tools transform this small aluminum disc into the counterweight's main component.

The counterweight balances the tone arm to keep the stylus in the groove of an l.p. they slope the surface and cut holes for attachments and for installing the part.

Finally, they cut a triangle out of the circle.

This takes the part to its final shape and weight...

From a flat disc to a precisely crafted counterweight.

Next, the platform for the tone arm takes shape.

It's designed to cradle all the parts at the end of the tone arm, including a cylindrical housing for a spring mechanism and an egg-shaped housing containing a bearing.

A technician now assembles the tone arm, beginning with a tapered tube made of carbon fiber.

It's a high-tech composite that's extremely stiff, so there should be no structural weakness in this crucial part.

The technician threads a preassembled wiring loom through the arm tube.

It's special wire for high-frequency transfer.

These wires have been encased in copper to keep out ambient radiation that would interfere with the tone arm's operation.

The carbon-fiber tube also acts as a radiation shield.

He mixes epoxy resin that he then dabs around the inner rim of the bearing housing, which has by now been equipped with the bearing.

He inserts the tone arm tube into the housing.

The tube adheres to the glue-coated rim, but before it totally bonds, the technician scrutinizes the alignment.

He makes adjustments if needed, and then he'll clamp the assembly to allow the glue to cure.

With the turntable tone arm now upright, he solders the wires that are protruding from the joint to external wiring for the amplifier.

And once all the connections have been made, he inserts the wires into the metal joint.

Ensconced in this joint, the connections are well-protected and can't be pulled apart.

He equips the main counterweight component with two thick steel beams for balance.

He slides the counterweight onto a third beam, which has been installed in the egg-shaped housing.

This completes the turntable tone arm.

Next, they encase the electric motor in its metal housing.

And they build the record deck.

They mount the motor to the two-tiered deck, designed to absorb any vibration.

The aluminum sub-chassis is next.

They link it to the motor with a drive belt, then they give the belt-drive system a test spin to confirm that it runs smoothly.

They now install the acrylic platter, felt mat, and tone arm.

With this turntable now fully assembled, it's time for the vinyl test.

The record spins, and the stylus traces the grooves.

The analog sound fills the room...

Proving this technology stands the test of time.

[ classical music plays] the first modern steam engine was invented in england in the early 1700s, helping launch the industrial revolution.

Today there's a return to steam power.

Due to its different configuration and combustion process, a steam engine produces less pollution than a regular internal-combustion engine.

This steam engine burns fuel in an external combustion chamber.

The resulting heat turns water into pressurized steam that enters the cylinders, pushing pistons, turning a crankshaft that powers the drive train.

Because this engine doesn't burn fuel inside the cylinders like a traditional car engine, it can run on any type or mixture of fuels with fewer emissions.

The circular engine block is made of aluminum.

Technicians install studs to hold six stainless-steel cylinders.

Due to the constant exposure to steam, all engine parts are made of rustproof materials.

The technicians insert a piston into each cylinder.

The piston is aluminum with a heat-resistant carbon cap and glider to isolate it from the cylinder wall.

They connect the piston rods to the crankshaft in the center with a specially designed component called a spider bearing.

This bearing is designed to modify the piston stroke, producing a smoother rotation of the crankshaft and more power to the engine.

Unlike a traditional car engine, with cylinders arranged in line, these cylinders are in a radial configuration and therefore equidistant from the center.

This prevents the engine from warping under high temperatures.

They place a counterbalance over their spider bearing to further smooth the motion of the crankshaft.

Now they install a pushrod over each cylinder.

It operates a valve, which lets steam enter the cylinder and move the piston.

They insert the base of each pushrod into a guide ring...

Then attach the cylinder heads, each of which houses a steam-entry valve.

They insert the pushrod into the valve.

Then, to complete the engine assembly, they install the cam, which pushes the pushrods as the shaft spins.

The factory hooks up every completed engine for a couple of rounds of performance testing.

First, a trial run using air pressure to check for leaks and to verify that all components operate correctly.

If everything's fine, then they repeat the process with steam pressure.

This type of steam engine can power many types of machines, from cars, trucks, and boats, to electric generators as we see here.

In a vehicle, it doesn't require a transmission because it produces so much rotational power.

Now for the heat exchanger, the component which turns water into engine-powering steam.

Technicians use a motorized wheel to wind 20 feet of stainless-steel tubing into a coil.

They bind the coil with steel thread, putting a stitch in between each tube to create a minute gap.

That way, when fuel burns in the combustion chamber, the heat can travel over and in between the tubes, heating the water inside faster and more efficiently than if the heat would contact only the coils' top and bottom surfaces.

The result-- superheated steam in just five seconds.

They stack six of these coils, one to feed steam to each cylinder.

This nest of tubes form the engine's primary heat exchanger.

They test it using any number of fuels, even waste fuels which would otherwise be discarded, such as used motor oil and used vegetable oil from restaurant fryers.

Virtually anything that burns will do the job.

The fuel combusts at low pressure, not at high pressure as in a gas or diesel engine.

That means burning fossil fuels to make steam produces far fewer greenhouse gases, and most hydrocarbons burn off completely within the sealed combustion chamber.

You never have to refill or top off the water because a condenser cools the steam back into water, which then recirculates.

Water is not only the working fluid-- it also acts as the engine lubricant, so the steam engine doesn't require motor oil.

Besides fuel combustion, this modern steam engine can run off other heat sources, such as solar heat and exhaust heat from furnaces or engines.

There was a time when the playground equipment in the local park or schoolyard was pretty basic stuff-- a set of swings, a slide, maybe a see-saw or two.

Today's playground equipment is far more varied, imaginative, and colorful, designed to stimulate children's minds as well as exercise their bodies.

Slide down, climb on, wriggle through.

There's no end to how kids can frolic on modular play structures or on this bubble-belly dinosaur.

To make the dinosaur's neck and legs, an automated band saw cuts long steel tubes to specific lengths.

The tube for the neck is 5 1/2 feet long.

Workers curve it in a bending press.

A level helps them get it just right.

Next, they weld on two steel plates.

These will support plastic seats on which kiddies can sit.

Workers also weld on bars for attaching the neck to the body.

They weld anchoring tabs and supporting bars to the four steel-tube legs.

Workers sandblast the legs and neck with stainless-steel grit.

The sandblasting gun shoots the grit at a speed of 435 miles an hour.

This roughens the surface, enabling paint to better adhere.

After applying an undercoat of gray primer, workers spray on a coat of plastic-based paint.

The paint is then baked on, which maximizes its durability.

Meanwhile, a computer-guided engraving machine carves an educational design into a panel made of triple-layered polyethylene plastic.

Panels like this block the open sides of playground equipment, preventing children from falling through.

To construct the dinosaur's bubble-shaped body, workers bolt together two half-spheres made of molded polyethylene plastic.

They position the bubble body on the legs...

Then bolt them together from the inside.

They bolt the neck to the body.

The neck has since been outfitted with plastic seats and the dino's plastic head.

They finish off the dinosaur with a metal label bearing product information.

This factory produces several components for its modular play structures, such as a climbing net made of galvanized steel cable.

The hard cable is padded in polyurethane.

Workers use hydraulic scissors to cut the required lengths of cable...

Then a cable stripper to slice off a little more than an inch of polyurethane from the ends of certain cables.

Workers then cap each exposed end with a sleeved aluminum ring.

They crimp the sleeve with a 44-ton press.

The rings will be bolted to the play structure's frame and anchoring system.

Finally, workers assemble the cables into a grid, locking each intersection with a plastic connector.

To ensure they won't rust from exposure to the elements, the connectors' central screw and corner rivets are made of stainless steel.

On the modular play structure, the children walk on a platform.

It's constructed from thick steel sheets, perforated by a robotic laser cutter.

After bending the sheet in a press to the required shape-- this is the corner section of the platform-- workers heat it in an oven...

Then submerge it in a vat of polyvinyl, which instantly adheres to the hot metal.

They build up a good coat--  about a 10th of an inch thick-- then let the excess drip off.

They blast the entire piece with an airgun.

This clears the holes and produces a textured, anti-slip surface.

Since playground equipment remains outdoors, all the paints and plastics are u.v.-treated to resist fading.

Besides being durable, the equipment is designed to meet all required safety standards so that parents can have peace of mind while their children have fun.

Food just slides off nonstick cookware's remarkably slippery surface.

In 1938, an american chemist was experimenting with refrigeration gases.

A waxy substance formed.

Years later, when bonded to cookware, it gained a nonstick reputation.

When it's time to fry, using a nonstick pan averts a messy situation.

The nonstick coating is one of the slipperiest solid materials on earth.

Called polytetrafluoroethylene, the name is a bit of a mouthful, but the appeal is simple.

Food won't get stuck on this nonstick surface.

To make the aluminum pan, they use 70% raw material and 30% leftovers from prior production of pots and pans.

They fire it to a molten state and filter it to remove contaminants.

The liquid aluminum flows into vertical rectangular molds.

A jacket of water around the molds cools the aluminum to take it from a liquid to a solid.

A crane extracts the cast slabs.

They're heading to a heating chamber to soften the slabs.

This will allow the metal to be shaped and formed.

A saw slices the slabs in two and trims the ends.

More blades scrape the top and bottom to remove impurities.

A conveyor repeatedly feeds the shorter slabs to heated rollers.

Guides at the side maintain the width, while the rollers compress the aluminum, taking the thickness down to about .

2 of an inch.

The rolling also elongates the slab substantially.

It starts out at 6 1/2 feet long, and after a few minutes of rolling, it's been stretched to well over 100 yards.

Pizza-cutter-style blades trim the edges of the aluminum sheet.

Another roller winds the aluminum into a big coil.

They then unwind it and squeeze the aluminum to flatten it.

Machinery now pulls the long aluminum sheet forward to a 132-ton punch press.

This powerful press forces the metal around a frying-pan-shaped die and then punches out the shape.

The freshly formed aluminum frying pan falls onto a conveyor below.

The leftover aluminum will be used to make new frying pans.

The pans now ride a conveyor through a washing station, where they're cleaned and then treated with sodium hydroxide.

This opens the pores of the metal to allow an enamel coating to stick to the outside and the nonstick finish to adhere to the inside.

A worker inspects the pans and places them upside-down on spray fixtures.

It's a tight fit to shield the inside from the enamel spray that comes next.

The pans spin on the fixtures and twirl by the spray nozzles for an even application of enamel to the exterior of the pans.

A clear, glossy coat follows.

The frying pans transfer to a dryer conveyor.

The hot air pulls out water from the enamel coating, and the color goes from gray to chalky white.

An automated squeegee silk-screens the company's name and other information onto the pan bottoms.

They now enter a long curing oven heated to 1,040 degrees fahrenheit.

The cure toughens the enamel, deepens the color so it turns gray again, and it adds gloss.

A suctioning device picks up the pan and turns it around for the inside coatings.

A sprayer applies a special primer that will make the nonstick coating adhere to the pan.

It then applies the nonstick coating.

The pans receive two layers of this nonstick synthetic substance.

The suctioning device releases the pan, and it lands upside down.

Then the pans journey through the oven again to cure the nonstick finish at around 800 degrees fahrenheit.

On exit, water rains down to cool the pans and rinse off any contaminants.

Then they go through an infrared-light chamber to dry off.

From a plain shell to a pan with an enamel finish on the outside and a nonstick coating on the inside, the transformation has taken just one hour.

A worker now aims a laser and aligns it with lettering on the bottom, allowing him to punch holes in a precise location on the side of the pan.

He slides pins into the holes and slots them through holes in the handle fitting.

Using a ram, he flattens the pins to rivet the handle to the pan.

Now, no matter what's cooking, cleanup should go smoothly.