Personal Watercraft
Wine
Office Furniture
Ice Skates

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

Personal watercraft...

Wine...

Particleboard office furniture...

And ice skates.

They're to water what snowmobiles are to snow, what motorcycles are to road.

The proper term for these adrenaline-pumping, wind-in-your-face vehicles is personal watercraft, but most people call them sea-doos.

The fiberglass shell that's the body of the craft is molded at another factory.

It arrives here ready-made.

Workers use a template to position decorative decals on the upper shell, called the deck.

Next, they install rubber footpads on the steps.

A robot drills holes in the lower shell, called the hull, first for the drainage system...

Then for the exhaust system.

Next, workers install the straps that will hold the internal components in place.

Then they install the rubber pad that goes under the motor.

Next comes the motor mount to hold the motor in place.

Finally, the motor itself.

This 130-horsepower engine arrives at the factory fully assembled.

It's a matter of putting it in place.

Next, they install the jet pump-- that's what gives the watercraft its jet power-- then the battery, then the driveline-- that's what links the motor and the jet pump.

The 14-gallon gas tank goes in next.

They connect the driveline...

Then install the jet housing.

That's the protective casing around the jet pump.

Meanwhile, a robot works on the deck.

It applies globs of glue in key locations.

Workers stick on various straps that will hold internal components in place.

Then the robot glues the circumference of both the hull and deck.

They heat the hull to activate the glue...

Then clamp the deck to the hull.

The glue takes about 15 minutes to dry.

Using an ultrasound machine, they inspect the seal to make sure it's watertight.

Next, they install the hood and the steering column.

Now it's time to run an engine test.

The last step is to install a plastic bumper.

A roller presses it securely into place.

Researchers invented a way to identify faraway objects, even in thick fog or complete darkness.

They use a laser combined with military night vision technology to locate objects or people up to miles away.

The system is so precise, it can read the name of a boat in the dead of night.

The next time you enjoy a glass of wine, think about your place in history.

Wine may date back to 6000 b.c. nowadays, wine comes in bottles, not animal skins, but the basic principles of winemaking remain the same.

Wine grapes grow best in temperate climates.

The riper the grapes, the sweeter the wine, so growers wait as long as possible before harvesting their crop.

Pickers gather grapes by hand, cutting off the bunches with shears to avoid tearing the plant.

For red wine, winemakers use the entire red grape-- juice, skin, pulp, and even seeds.

For white wine, they use just the juice of white grapes.

While the winemaking process itself is certainly a factor, the quality of the grapes is what ultimately determines the quality of the wine.

Grapes are affected by weather, by soil conditions, and by how the vines are pruned during and between seasons.

The grapes go into the crusher, then into the presser, which squeezes out the juice.

Inside the winery, the result of all that crushing and pressing ends up in large stainless steel tanks.

The winemaker adds yeast to convert the sugar in the grape juice to alcohol.

That's called fermentation.

Winemakers constantly experiment with fermentation to try to improve the quality of their wine.

They take samples of grape juice and mix them with different types of yeast.

Yeast is found throughout the environment, in wild berries, for instance.

They hydrate the yeast with a bit of grape juice, then pour the mix into the grape juice sample, let it ferment, and then see how it turns out.

The big fermentation tanks are refrigerated, and monitoring their temperature is critical.

White wine must be fermented at around 63 degrees, red wine at 86 to 95 degrees.

The fermentation period depends on the type of wine.

White wine has to ferment for three weeks, red wine for just 10 days.

Rosé wine is somewhat of a half-breed...

Made with red grapes, but fermented slowly, like white wine.

It comes out pink.

There's an extra step in making red wine.

During fermentation, they drain the tank to aerate the wine.

The oxygen helps the yeast work faster over the short 10-day fermentation period.

Then they pump the wine back in through the top of the tank to mix everything thoroughly.

During fermentation, they not only monitor temperature, but also the sugar level.

As the juice becomes wine, the sugar level drops, and the alcohol level increases.

Except for very sweet wines, fermentation is finished when the sugar's gone and the alcohol content is 11% to 13% for red wine, or 11% to 11 1/2% for white and rosé.

The wine is stored for a few months, then it's run through several pressure filters to remove any particles.

Then it's time to bottle the wine.

Large wineries have fully automated bottling plants.

Smaller operations have semi-automated systems like this one.

The key in bottling wine is to avoid getting air inside because oxygen turns wine sour.

The colored wine bottles protect the wine from light, which can also affect the taste.

People have used cork to plug wine bottles since ancient times because it creates a tight seal that keeps the air out.

Cork, incidentally, is a type of tree bark.

Inside the bottle, the wine continues to undergo subtle organic changes as it ages.

Nowadays, you have to be pretty high up in a company to have a solid wood desk.

Your desk is more likely made of pressed wood-- an inexpensive alternative made from lumber by-products.

Particleboard is a common type of pressed wood.

Lumber mill leftovers provide the raw materials for particleboard.

The process starts with truckloads of sawdust.

The next ingredients are wood shavings and wood chips from all types of lumber.

They feed those chips and shavings into a large mill that works like a giant food processor, chopping them up into little bits.

When the milling's done, the particles are between .

008 and .

5 inches in size and less than .

03 inches thick.

To make the humidity level uniform, they put the particles into giant dryers whose combustion chambers are fueled by leftover dust from the chopping mill.

After 15 to 25 minutes, the humidity level drops to 1.5%.

From here, they'll send the dried-out particles to a screening machine, which will separate them by size.

Pieces too big for particleboard are fed through the mill again.

Sawdust will become fuel for the dryers.

Larger particles go into the rougher core layer of the particleboard, smaller pieces into the smoother surface layer.

Meanwhile, the factory's glue department gets to work mixing resin, water, wax, and chemical hardeners.

Machines mix the glue and the particles, then push out a long, continuous mat.

A cold compressor forces the air out of the mat.

Then a hot press activates the glue and forces it all together.

Next, a saw cuts the continuous mat into large sheets called master boards.

They're still hot from the hot press, so they're put aside to cool for about a half-hour.

Once the master boards are cool, they're sanded.

Then a stacking machine piles them about 80 sheets high.

A saw cuts them into a smaller, more manageable size to be sent off to a furniture factory.

At the furniture factory, the first step is to laminate the particleboard panels with a decorative covering.

First, the glue spreader covers the board's surface with glue.

Then another machine sticks on a 4- to 5-foot strip of decorative paper fortified with resin, varnish, and other chemicals.

This covering comes in many different colors and designs, from solids to imitation granite or wood.

A blade cuts the paper between each board.

Then a machine stacks the boards to prepare them for cutting.

The saw cuts through six to eight boards at a time, depending on their thickness.

The next step is to cover the edges of the particleboard.

They take a strip made of pvc plastic that matches the laminate.

They glue it over the edges, then trim it for a neat finish.

Next, they prepare the pieces for assembly.

A multiple-head drill makes screw holes in the panels.

Meanwhile, they prepare the bag of hardware.

There's a separate bin for each screw, nut, bolt, and connector.

The machines count out the exact number of hardware each piece of furniture requires.

Then the hardware is automatically bagged and weighed to make sure nothing's missing.

Every so often, a worker assembles a sample to make sure everything fits together properly.

If it does, production continues, and they can proceed to packaging.

They put together the particleboards for each piece of furniture, add the hardware bag and instruction booklet, then seal everything in plastic film.

From here, it goes into a box to be shipped to the store.

Getting your first pair of ice skates is like getting your first bicycle.

It's a childhood rite of passage, and one that leads to another well-known ritual-- landing on your backside the first time you try them out.

How long have we been ice-skating?

An iron skate found in scandinavia dates to 200 a.d., but people likely put blades made of bone under their shoes even earlier than that.

Skaters tied on their blades with straps until the advent of the skate boot in the early 1900s.

Today, skates are lightweight and high-tech and are designed for specific sports-- figure skating, speed skating, and hockey.

It takes 145 steps to make this high-end hockey skate.

The skate boot is made of a synthetic material that looks and feels like leather.

Once they've cut the pieces that will make up the boot, they shave the edges, thinning them out so the boot won't be bulky, particularly where there's overlap at the seams.

They position a reinforcement piece onto what's called the quarter-- the main structural piece that will form the sides and back of the skate boot.

They glue it on with a hot press.

The boot pieces now go to the sewing department.

They stitch together the tongue piece, then, using a sturdy zigzag stitch, they attach the quarter and the heel piece.

They spray glue on the quarter...

And on the ankle support...

Then stick on a foam ankle pad designed to mold to the contours of the skater's ankles.

Next comes the lining.

They must center it perfectly for the skate to be properly aligned and balanced.

The eyelet machine works like a hole punch, punching out eyelets in the quarter.

They reinforce each eyelet with an aluminum washer.

The last step in the sewing department is called forming.

They place the boot over a metal foot form.

A hot press laminates the boot to give the back and sides of the quarter their shape.

In the assembly department, they put the parts together using a foot form.

They tack on a white plastic insole and a black plastic toe cap.

They brush on a layer of glue...

And attach the boot.

They sand the bottom of the boot to roughen up the surface for better adhesion.

An automated machine applies a layer of glue along the contours of the boot's underside.

The boot then goes through a heat machine for a couple of seconds to evaporate the solvent in the glue, making it tackier.

As with the lining, they must position the sole perfectly, or they'll throw the skate off-balance.

An 8-ton press presses it onto the boot.

The sole is made of strong carbon or carbon composite depending on the skate model.

Once the glue is dry, they drill two holes through the sole for attaching the skate blade.

The blade sits in a plastic holder.

They screw it in place through the holes, then secure it with five steel rivets and four more resistant copper rivets.

Like the lining in the sole, the blade's alignment is crucial.

Roller hockey skates are made almost the same way as ice hockey skates, just instead of a blade, they attach an aluminum chassis with rollers.

In the finishing department, they inspect the inside of the skate, checking the blade holes and rivets in particular.

They plug the blade holes.

Then they lace up the first three sets of eyelets.

Finally, they install what's called the footbed-- the high-density foam padding that lies under the foot.

Last, but not least, they clean the skate, trimming excess threads and removing any glue residue.


The first computers used to be the size of an entire room.

Then they were built to fit on your desk.

The newest design is a portable device that sits on your lap, and today's laptops are made even smaller and more powerful than ever.

With its lightning-fast processor and impressive graphics, this laptop is designed for high-performance gaming.

The computer's brain, called the motherboard, begins as a printed circuit board.

Its pattern of lines and pads and copper is the wiring for the electronic components that will be soldered to the board.

This machine places a stencil of the component layout onto the board and applies solder paste through the openings.

A quality-inspection camera photographs the solder paste and sends the images to a computer.

The computer analyzes them, looking for any missing paste, misalignment, or other mistakes.

If the board passes inspection, it passes through 15 robotic machines, each of which places up to 150 components on the correct locations on the board in just 30 seconds.

Then the board runs through an oven that melts the solder paste, connecting the components to the board.

Another camera inspection ensures that the internal processor is correctly soldered, and that no component is missing or shifted out of position.

After function testing and a visual inspection, the motherboard moves to the assembly line and is set aside for the time being.

Next, technicians manually assemble the top half of the laptop called the panel kit.

They place protection film on the 15-inch lcd screen.

Then they plug in the cable that will connect the lcd to the motherboard.

They insert the lcd screen into a frame with a web camera and microphone already embedded.

Then they attach this antenna bottom cover to the screen cover and position the motherboard cable inside it.

Next, they install the module for the webcam and microphone.

They attach two hinges, which connect this panel kit to the rest of the laptop.

Then they install the wi-fi antenna in the antenna bottom cover.

All components are concealed in the antenna bottom cover behind this antenna top cover.

They complete the panel kit by pressing in a thin metal frame around the screen.

Next, they assemble the bottom half of the laptop.

First, technicians attach the top cover to the panel-kit hinges and the touchpad.

Then they install the right and left speakers in the top cover.

Now the motherboard comes back into play.

After inspection, a computer-guided router cuts out openings to accommodate the computer's fans, which prevent the electronics from overheating.

A gaming laptop generates a lot more heat than a regular laptop and therefore requires two powerful fans rather than one.

After checking that the fan screws are sufficiently tightened, they place the motherboard into the top cover.

Contaminants such as dust or oil can impede proper contact, so as a precaution, they clean the connectors for the memory modules with solvent, then dry them with compressed air.

Then they install the memory module, the wi-fi and bluetooth module, and the solid-state disc, which stores data.

They connect a high-capacity battery to the motherboard.

Batteries for gaming laptops are typically larger because the faster processor and dual fans consume more power.

The last component is the keyboard, which fits into a rectangular opening in the top cover of the bottom half.

A laser-etching machine marks the required information underneath.

An automated machine tests numerous functions, and a quality-control team tests several others, including the virtual-reality feature...

The lcd and keyboard color displays...

And the keys.

Not only must the keys function properly, they need to be durable, so enthusiastic gamers won't break them while playing.

Panettone is a traditional italian sweetbread most commonly prepared for dessert on christmas and new years.

Baking authentic panettone can take up to two days or more to make.

A certain expertise is needed to turn these ingredients into its domed-like shape while maintaining its fluffy center.

The baker pours high-protein flour to a mixing bowl.

Then he adds the flour into an industrial-sized dough mixer that has hooked mixing arms.

He adds fresh yeast, milk powder, and enough water to bind the ingredients together.

He places the safety cage over the dough mixer.

As the hook agitators blend the ingredients, gluten forms.

Glutens will give the panettone structure.

Sugar will feed the growth of the yeast.

The agitators evenly distribute it in the dough.

Meanwhile the baker cracks eggs and separates the yolks from the whites.

He weighs the yolks and adds them to the mix.

This panettone recipe calls for egg yolks only.

Yolks provide fat to help emulsify the dough and give it flavor.

To further enrich the flavor of the panettone, he adds a generous amount of butter.

The mixer folds it into the dough.

He transfers the dough to a container and leaves it to rise for 11 hours.

This process is called proofing the dough.

The dough undergoes multiple proofings.

In between each proofing period, the baker deflates the dough and returns it to the mixer.

During this process, the yeast consumes sugar, so he adds more to feed the process.

Next, he adds more of the other ingredients, and the mixer kneads them into the dough for one hour.

The mixer works the dough, creating bands of elasticity, so that the dough will stretch during rising.

In the final mixing stage, the baker adds vanilla extract for another flavor dimension.

While the dough mixer distributes it, he measures fruit by weight.

The panettone recipe calls for two parts raisins, one part candied orange pieces, and one part candied lemon pieces.

The mixer folds them into the dough.

After another proofing, the baker slices the fruited dough into chunks.

Some of the water in the dough will evaporate during baking and the panettone should end up about two pounds.

He shapes each chunk into a uniform mold and leaves the dough chunks to rise for an hour in a warm chamber.

Instead of metal pans, panettone is baked in these paper molds.

The molds will also be used as retail packaging.

After about an hour in the warming chamber, the dough chunks have doubled in size.

The baker works them into a rounder form and transfers them to paper molds.

Then it's back into the warming chamber for another proofing.

As the dough rises, the round shape is contained by the paper molds.

After six hours, he takes out the molds and carves crosses into the risen dough.

He adds small pieces of butter to the middle of each cross.

After 24 hours of preparation, the panettones are ready to be cooked.

They bake for 45 minutes at 320 degrees fahrenheit.

Once complete, he quickly spears each panettone with a metal rod near the base and hangs it upside down.

The panettones cool for up to 24 hours in this upside-down suspended state.

This stretches the warm breads to give them their dome shape and stops them from caving inward.

Once cooled, the panettones are ready to be wrapped for retail.

All that proofing has allowed the flavors to mature and the fluffy texture to develop.

The yeast will act as the preservative, keeping this italian christmas bread fresh for up to 30 days.

The saxophone was invented in the mid-1800s by adolphe sax, the son of belgium's chief instrument maker.

With the saxophone, sax blended the power of a brass horn with the nuances of a woodwind instrument.

This instrument has the ability to sound bright and edgy or dark and moody.

Even though it's made of brass or high-copper alloys, the saxophone is technically a woodwind instrument.

That's because it produces sound by vibrating a reed attached to the mouthpiece.

The process of making a saxophone starts with a long brass or copper sheath.

A hydraulic punch cuts the metal into rectangles.

After tracing a flared pattern onto one piece of metal, a craftsman aligns the pattern with the punch to cut out the part.

This part will now be formed into the saxophone's bell.

The worker folds it around the metal rod and pounds it with a wooden stick to do some initial shaping.

This takes the part from flat to three dimensional.

After the seam has been welded, more hammering rounds the shape substantially and improves on the flare at the end.

Next, the craftsman repeatedly pounds the flare to form it into a bell.

Hand-hammering shapes the metal and also alters the physical properties to make the sound more resonant.

Throughout the forming of the instrument, it is heated with a torch.

This makes the metal flexible enough to be shaped.

Next, he slides the bell onto a form.

He brushes lubricant onto the metal...

And lowers a roller.

The form spins the curved bell against the roller, which smoothes out dents and forces the bell to conform to the dimensions of the roller.

The rolled saxophone bell is the one on the right.

It's dramatically different.

Now we can see the saxophone's body take shape.

It starts with this piece of metal that's wider at one end.

The operator places it under a cone-shaped form.

Using hydraulics, it descends to fold the part and imprint the cone shape on the metal.

After more forming, another worker welds the seams to complete the cone.

This part of the instrument is also called the tube.

Meanwhile, the forming work on the saxophone bell has been completed.

A worker locks the upper part of the bell into a machine and turns the punch device to cut the tone holes.

Sound waves will be emitted through both the open tone holes and the bell's flare.

Later, another worker aims a torch at the saxophone body to soften the metal, so that the rims of the tone holes can now be formed.

He slides the body onto a steel mandrel with round inserts.

He aligns the tone holes with holes on the mandrel.

He sets a guide rack on top, aligning the holes in the rack with the holes in the instrument.

He inserts tools through the holes and threads them into the round inserts in the mandrel.

A support bracket props up the tools.

Using the tools, he pulls the inserts through the holes.

This forms a rim around each hole.

The raised edging will allow key cups to close the tone holes effectively.

The craftsman drills the rims to smooth and level them.

This will prevent gaps that could affect the sound of the instrument when the key cups close.

The next part is the bow, which will link the saxophone bell and body.

The craftsman brushes a cleaning agent known as flux onto one end.

He connects the two parts and applies more flux to the bell where it meets the bow.

He then melts solder where the two parts come together, completing this critical connection.

The solder makes the joint airtight.

He turns over the bell and bow assembly to complete the job, ensuring that the solder encompasses the entire joint.

He dabs water onto the soldered joint to cool it down.

But before this saxophone is ready to make music, a few more steps must be taken for good measure.

The saxophone has tonal qualities similar to those of the human voice.

Its sound can range from sultry, dark tones to high-pitched exuberance.

It's no wonder the saxophone has found a place in many music styles from jazz to pop to the classics.

The standard saxophone has 23 different tone holes and an equal number of key cups to close them.

At this factory, each key cup is assembled by hand.

A craftsman arranges the parts of a key cup in a fixture to position them for soldering.

He inserts a rod that will act as an alignment and positioning tool.

He applies flux to clean the part and melts silver solder into the connecting points.

To prevent the parts from sliding, the craftsman uses pincers to adjust their position.

Other keys are grouped together on a brass plate known as a rib.

He spaces the key posts evenly on a rod that serves as an alignment tool.

Several overhead clamps hold the posts in place on the rib.

He applies the chemical cleaner to the base of the post and the plate around them.

Silver solder is melted around the post, and as it solidifies, it fuses them to the plate.

Next, the craftsman removes the overhead clamp system.

After sliding keys onto the ends of the alignment rod, he positions the assembly on the saxophone body.

He closes the keys onto the corresponding tone holes and solders the base plate to the lower part of the saxophone body.

He brushes water onto the solder to accelerate the cooling and solidification.

He then removes the alignment rod and uncaps the tone holes for now.

A cleaning agent is brushed onto the back of a rib that supports a second grouping of key posts.

He solders the rib to the upper part of the saxophone body and takes the alignment rod off.

The posts have been installed in a specific sequence to support extending keys on a hinge rod.

Later, another worker polishes the bow and bell assembly against a buffing wheel, which polishes the instrument to remove smudges or fingerprints and give the brass parts a mirror finish.

They dip the brass saxophone parts in a bath where sound waves help remove residual dirt and grease.

There's also a chemical primer in the bath that will help a lacquer bond to the brass.

A technician sprays the lacquer onto the brass to protect it from corrosion and tarnish.

Floral artwork will add visual flair to this copper saxophone bell.

The copper has been painted black to make the art stand out.

The artist follows the stencil with an etching tool, rotating it using a twirling motion technique, etching in fluid movements.

He doesn't stop until he's completed a line to prevent any inconsistencies in the engraving.

After he completes the pattern, he does detail work.

This exposes the copper metal and makes the art pop.

Returning to the brass saxophone now, a technician screws long hinge rods to the posts.

He attaches the keys, which have been equipped with pads in the cups.

A tiny screw secures this grouping of keys.

He turns the saxophone over, inserts a light, and looks for escaping rays, making adjustments if needed.

He installs needle springs under the key rods and main hinge rod.

They'll enable the keys to spring back after they're pressed.

He tests the spring action and, again, checks for light leaks.

He now fits the bell bow to the main body.

There's a connecting ring that holds them together, but he'll also lock them in place with a screw.

From start to finish, it takes about a month to craft this saxophone.

Whether it's made out of basic brass or something a little showier, the look of the instrument can reflect the saxophonist's playing style, but the tone of the instrument defines it.


Technical Glass
Washing Machines
Playing Cards
Crossbows

A traffic intersection, a hollywood movie set, the outside of an airplane-- it's hard to imagine any common ground among them until you flip a switch, a light switch.

Traffic lights, movie lights, and aircraft lights are all made of the same type of special glass.

It's called technical glass.

Borosilicate glass has a low thermal expansion and is very durable.

It's used in high-temperature applications and when abrasion resistance is important.

It begins with a mix of silica sand and chemicals called batch.

Workers shovel the batch and recycled glass, called cullet, into a pot furnace, where they melt for two days.

A variety of colorants are added to make hundreds of different colors.

Next, it's on to the molding process.

Workers heat a ring and transfer it to the top of a mold.

Then they twist and turn a stick called a punty to gather some melted glass and carefully string it in the mold.

A plunger squeezes the molten gob into shape.

The glass solidifies in seconds.

This glass lens is used as a landing-light cover on an aircraft.

They extract it from the mold for a quick inspection.

Any imperfections, and it gets recycled.

If the lens is acceptable, it's held in a forming device to finalize the shape.

The burner maintains the proper temperature of the ring.

Once formed, the lenses are cooled in an annealing oven, which relieves unwanted stress in the glass.

This circular mold makes theatrical and landscape lighting.

Again, a gob of molten glass is dropped in the mold, and the plunger is depressed, forming the lens.

Heat-resistant tongs enable workers to handle the hot lenses.

Red and yellow lenses need a high-temperature anneal for the color to appear.

This is called striking.

Back on the molding line, special tools are used to ensure this aircraft lens maintains its shape.

A quick spin on the light wheel illuminates any defects.

After a trip through the annealing lair, the lenses are ready for further processing.

The molding process for larger lenses can be more complicated.

This large convex lens requires several gobs of molten glass placed carefully on top of one another.

The plunger enters into the molten glass, forming the lens.

Deep ridges located in the plunger of the mold create the circular prisms on the glass lens.

Within seconds, the lens is ready for extraction and inspection.

Using heat-resistant mitts, workers scrutinize the glass from every angle, checking for small fractures or imperfections in the glass.

Next, they inspect for flatness using a paper-thin plastic feeler.

If it slides underneath, the lens is warped and unacceptable.

They check the glass thickness in many locations, using a calibrated thickness gauge.

Any major defects, and they discard the lens.

In the factory's finishing shop, they use a diamond saw to slice away excess glass around the periphery.

A special sanding belt is used to smooth the surface to perfection.

Then, with a cloth buffing wheel, they polish the glass to a shine.

At last, the final inspection.

Using calipers, they measure the lens's ridged edges, called the flange, to make sure the dimensions are correct.

Producing such a colorful assortment of technical glass takes a lot of work, but at least there's light at the end of the tunnel.

In the days before electricity, doing laundry was just plain hard work.

The first electric washing machines were little more than a bucket with a motor attached.

Fully automatic machines came about in the 1960s.

But with rising concern for the environment, there are new designs that need less water and electricity to get the dirty job done.

Most washing machines contain a circular tub to hold the laundry.

But this model has a unique feature-- a hexagon-shaped tub made from panels of laser-cut, perforated stainless steel.

The operator separates the cut panels and places one on a bending machine called a press brake.

It forces the panel against a die, bending the edge.

The operator repositions the panel for the next bend, repeating this until the six-sided shape is complete.

Then an assembler attaches a hinged door to the tub's opening.

That's where the laundry goes in.

This inner tub is contained by another outer tub.

To assemble it, a welder sets a stainless steel plate onto a welding fixture.

Then he places the tub's main frame and slides in another steel plate to close it up.

He clamps the tub firmly in place then spot-welds it on each side so the pieces hold together.

Next, he takes the tub over to a machine called a seam welder.

There, an electrode wheel travels all along the tub's edge, welding together the front and back panels to the main frame.

There's still more welding to do with the use of a robotic welding arm to build the machine's 24x27-inch steel base.

A concrete counterweight mounted on the outer tub's side prevents the machine from shaking too much when it's in operation.

Next, an assembler attaches a pressure tube and a sump hose to draw the used water out of the machine.

He seals both tubes with a watertight adhesive.

Now he can install the suspension struts that support the outer tub, one at each corner of the base.

A single electric motor powers the whole machine.

It's set on the machine's underside on an adjustable pivot shaft.

With the motor in place, assemblers now turn over the completed outer tub and lower it into position on its base.

They connect the support struts on all four sides and then push the tub to make sure the struts align properly and keep the machine balanced.

Next, the inner tub is set into the outer tub.

Workers insert a stainless steel shaft right through both tubs.

A strip of watertight foam is set along the outer tub's perimeter to seal it before workers install a plastic bezel that keeps water from splashing out of the machine.

Next, assemblers install the drive pulley onto the shaft that supports the inner tub.

A drive belt connects the motor to the pulley, which rotates the shaft and the inner tub that it supports.

Now they slide a stainless steel outer cabinet onto the base that covers the tubs.

It contains a control board, the brain of the washing machine.

The assembler sets the lid into place, and the machine is complete.

The control-board wiring is located on the underside of the lid.

That's also where the valves that dispense detergent, bleach, and softener are.

Before it leaves the plant, a member of the quality-control team tests it out with a load of soiled laundry.

According to the manufacturers, the unique shape of the inner tub is the key to making this a lean, green washing machine that requires less water, less detergent, and less energy to get the job done.

There's been a lot of water under the bridge since the days of those first machines.

They've sure come a long way.

The playing card traces its roots back more than 1,100 years to 9th century china.

Since then, generations young and old lay down their true colors in a variety of games, each as unique as the traditional 52-card deck and as timeless as the four famous suits.

Whatever the hand, a winning combination of technical features makes these playing cards durable and cheater-proof.

Industrial humidifiers control the moisture level of the card stock.

This prevents the cardboard from drying out and warping.

Technicians regularly monitor the cardboard's temperature and humidity by inserting a flat probe 4 inches from the top of the 3,000-sheet stack.

Card stock arrives from the paper mill ready-made-- two layers of cardboard bonded with colored glue.

This construction makes the playing cards impossible to see through.

Before making printing plates, a technician checks the artwork for the deck, then prints out a low-resolution sample to confirm the sequence and layout are correct.

There's absolutely no room for error, so she carefully double-checks every card for suit, sequence, color, and layout.

A signature on this sticker confirms these cards are good for print.

The next step is to make a digital proof.

This printer's internal laser heat-transfers dots of colored foils onto a clear film.

These dots perfectly reproduce the content and color of each card.

Next, a laminating machine bonds the exposed films onto a sheet of the same cardboard used to make the cards.

This produces a printed proof showing exactly what the finished playing cards will look like.

Here, graphic artists adapt hand drawings of the face cards, adding color and a touch of regal class wherever needed.

The next step is to make the printing plates.

A computer-guided laser etches the design into the polymer surface of the printing plate.

Entirely automated, this machine produces 30 plates an hour.

To set up for a print run, workers pour several cans of thick cyan ink into the ink duct.

The three other colors--  same setup.

When the printing press gets rolling, each fountain will disperse ink evenly via 16 rollers.

Feeders transport the cardboard sheets one by one into the press.

Each printing plate is mounted on a rotating drum.

Rollers transfer the ink onto the plate, which then transfer onto a rubber blanket, which presses against the passing cardboard as it moves through the press.

At the end of the machine, the printed sheet is flattened and stacked.

They feed the same sheets back through the press, this time upside-down.

The sheets now move through a cutting machine called the combi, where rotating blades divide the sheet into columns, then into individual cards.

The cards get grouped into decks.

Then the deck heads into what they call the cornering station.

A die descends and, in one fell swoop, cuts off all four corners.

Next, a robotic arm nudges each deck onto a conveyor destined for the cello wrapper.

Grippers pull a cellophane reel downwards while a knife then cuts the film.

A heated bar descends and seals the film, which forms an envelope.

With a simple pull, the red tear strip removes the wrapper.

The traditional english deck is the international standard for games such as poker.

But there are many more types of playing cards.

This set of spanish cards, for example, has no numbers, just symbols.

Whether at the casino blackjack table or the kitchen table, playing cards are the real deal.

A crossbow is a modern bow and arrow that you shoot like a rifle.

It's popular for both target shooting and hunting.

With a rifle, you can shoot from 200 yards away.

But using a crossbow is more of a challenge.

You have to be at least four times closer to your target.

A crossbow consists of the bow and the stock.

The bow shoots the arrow, while the stock houses the trigger and the aiming scope.

A plate of fiberglass is the starting point for the bow's limbs, the two curved arms that pull back and release to shoot the arrow.

A vacuum holds the plate steady as a computer-guided grinder does some initial shaping.

Workers measure the plate with micrometers to ensure it meets strict specifications.

This is a special type of fiberglass.

The fibers all run in the same direction, meaning they can bend repeatedly without weakening over time.

Workers mount the plate on a computer-guided cutter.

It carves out the limbs with a high-pressure water jet-- the most precise way to slice fiberglass.

Each plate yields four limbs--  two bows' worth.

The severed fibers make their surface rough, so a little polishing is in order.

The limbs go into a vibrating tub filled with ceramic stones that rub against the limbs, wearing down the coarse fibers.

Now the limbs are ready for decoration.

The design is printed on plastic film.

This machine uses heat and pressure to transfer the design.

The next bow component is called the riser.

They machine it out of aluminum, then jazz it up with an ink transfer.

To assemble the bow, they bolt a limb to each side of the riser.

It acts as a spacer, separating the limbs so that the arrow can pass between them when you shoot.

The riser and limbs go into a press, which applies more than 660 pounds of pressure, bending the limbs into an arc.

Next, workers mount a set of aluminum pulleys on each limb tip.

These are called compound cams.

Next, the yoke.

A yoke is a string with a loop on each end.

They anchor one loop to one side of the limb tip, pass the other end through a loop on a steel cable, then anchor it to the other side.

This forms "y" shape that distributes pressure on the limb evenly.

They repeat the same process with a second yoke on the other limb.

Now for the bowstring.

On each limb, they attach the bowstring end to one side of the cam.

Then they anchor the cable coming from the yoke to the other side.

Next, two rubber silencers go onto the bowstring.

When you shoot, these silencers absorb the string's vibration, reducing the sound.

These components make up what's known as a compound bow.

This design enables the bowstring to propel the arrow farther.

Now the bow is finished and ready for testing.

This scale measures how much strength it takes to draw the bow.

Elsewhere, the stock is coming together.

First, the trigger mechanism.

It undergoes extensive testing in a specially designed device that applies air pressure to simulate the bowstring tension.

They pull the trigger six times to ensure it fires properly.

Then they apply the safety catch.

And with a strap to get maximum strength, they pull some more.

This makes absolutely sure the trigger won't fire accidentally in the safety position.

After attaching a connecting rod that fits in the bow's riser, they install the trigger in the barrel.

Then they bolt these components into the stock housing.

They attach a bridge and rail on which the scope will mount.

Now they test the trigger again to check the installation.

Connecting the crossbow's two sections is simple.

You insert the stock's rod into a slot in the riser and tighten the mounting bolt.

Then you attach a foot stirrup.

To cock the bow, you stand the crossbow on the ground, put your foot in the stirrup, and pull the bowstring upward until it locks into the trigger mechanism.

Then you pick up the crossbow, aim, and fire.


Steel Bistro Sets
Letterpress Printing
Bamboo Ceramic Lights
Asphalt Compactors

The metal bistro set is a fixture in european-style cafés and small restaurants.

The set consists of a small dining table and two chairs.

A bistro set is also popular in homes with limited outdoor space as there's usually enough room for one on a balcony or small patio.

The small restaurant bar known as the bistro originated in 19th century france.

Its iconic dining sets are still being produced today in both traditional and modern styles.

This french factory makes them out of strips of flat steel with rounded edges.

The first step is to flatten the strip with pressure-applying rollers.

The steel then enters a press which does three operations simultaneously.

It cuts pieces to the required length, rounds their ends, and punches out holes where required.

These are parts for the table legs.

Meanwhile, this computer-guided machine bends a 1/2-inch steel rod into a circle to form a ring that will support the tabletop.

This table is collapsible, allowing it to fold flat for storage.

Therefore, two of the legs are hinged.

A pin and notch lock them in the open position.

After putting together the folding legs, a worker positions all the parts for the base on an assembly fixture.

Then he operates a welding robot, which welds all the crossbars, reinforcing the legs and the legs to the ring.

It only takes about 2 minutes to weld all these parts into a folding table base.

The manufacturers make the tabletop from a square piece of sheet steel.

This machine first sheers off the corners, transforming the square into a circle.

Then it draws the edge upward to form a 1/2-inch-high rim on what will eventually be the underside of the tabletop.

It also cuts a hole in the center for an umbrella pole and draws that edge, as well.

A worker mates the tabletop to the folding base.

He inserts the ring into the tabletop's underside rim.

Then he opens the base and uses spreading pliers to pull apart, then butt the ends of the ring.

Next, he shields the underside of the table with a scrap piece of metal and welds the butted ends.

The table is now fully constructed.

The chair parts are cut on the same press as the table legs.

Each chair has two long legs and two shorter legs.

This machine simultaneously folds and twists the two shorter ones and folds the two longer ones.

The operator then connects them with a crossbar.

The next operator places these connected short legs in another machine.

He adds washers to the protruding ends of the crossbar, then the two long chair legs, connecting them lower down with the crossbar.

The machine welds that crossbar and forms each end of the other crossbar into a rivet, which creates the folding point for this collapsible chair frame.

The next operator places the frame on another machine, positioning three holes on each side onto upright steel pins.

He lays two steel slats for the chair back on these pins, then five more for the seat onto identical pins riveted to a pair of steel bars.

The machine then forms the pins into rivets, attaching all the slats.

He then assembles the seat to the frame, completing the construction of the chair.

The tables and chairs go on to the paint line.

The first station washes and dries the furniture.

Next, a worker opens each one to spray paint the articulation points.

Then, automated nozzles paint the rest.

This is industrial-grade powder paint known as powder coat.

A 10-minute trip through a tunnel oven at 370 degrees fahrenheit bakes it on.

Workers apply product information stickers, cushion protruding parts with plastic covers, and enclose foot protectors.

The bistro set is now ready.

Just unfold and unwind.

In an electronic world where a few taps on a device keyboard sends an invitation or greeting card, it's not all that common anymore to receive something printed the old-fashioned way.

Yet there's nothing quite as elegant as the crisp, recessed print that traditional letterpress printing produces.

Letterpress printing is a centuries-old method that's making a comeback.

The printing press makes an impression in the paper with raised type as it applies the ink.

The printer first sketches out some design ideas.

Then he detours into digital technology, finalizing the colors and composition and choosing the font in traditional metal type.

He cuts paper to the size of the greeting card he's making.

The paper is 100 percent cotton, which is more pliable than standard wood-fiber paper, thus enabling a deeper impression.

Cotton paper is more delicate, so he has to cushion it while cutting.

Otherwise, the clamp holding the stack would dent the paper.

Now it's time to set up.

He locates the selected font in the type cabinet.

Each individual character, called a sort, is backwards because backwards type prints forwards.

He finds the sorts for the first line of text and lines them up left to right and upside down in what's called a composing stick.

Once he completes the type of the line, called a form, he clamps it in position.

Then he takes a metal frame, called a chase, and mounts the form at a specific position inside the frame, filling the excess space with blocks of wood called furniture.

Just below the piece of furniture that's underneath the form, he places a compression device called a quoin and expands it with a key.

This locks the form in position.

He chooses each ink color from a fan deck, then follows the recipe to mix it.

This is color extender, which works like paint thinner, diluting a dark color to a lighter shade.

He mixes the color extender into the ink, blending the two ingredients thoroughly.

When the color matches the fan deck sample, he places a glob on a piece of cardboard and takes the mixture over to the printing press.

He applies it in dots all over the ink disc.

Then he pumps on the treadle to run the rollers back and forth across the disc.

This spreads the ink over the disc and onto the rollers.

He inserts the chase containing the form into what's called the bed of the press.

Now for the test run.

The printer pulls the lever to bring the bed and platen together so that the form, inked by the rollers, creates an ink-filled impression in the paper.

If the print is off a bit, he marks the correct position by pencil and installs gauge pins, which will hold the paper there.

Now he's ready to start printing.

There's no automation here.

He manually places one sheet at a time in the gauge pins.

The ink dries quickly because it's rubber based and because cotton paper absorbs well.

This printer's technique is a hybrid of traditional and modern approaches, as he uses computer-generated graphics.

He sends the digital file to a company that makes a polymer printing plate, which he mounts on an aluminum base that fits in the chase of the press.

He switches plates to do the next graphic in a different color, layered over the first.

The polymer plates marry the old and new technology by making it possible to print computer-generated graphics by traditional letterpress.

After printing the inside of this greeting card, as well, he uses a scoring rule mounted in another press to make a perfectly straight fold line down the middle of the paper.

The result is beautiful, textured print on elegant cotton paper just like the good old days before ink-jets, e-cards, and e-vites.

Bamboo-ceramic lights add a touch of zen to any space.

Made of ceramic and inspired by bamboo, they resemble bundles of tropical grasses, but they're not exact replications.

These light fixtures offer an artistic interpretation of an exotic element from the natural world.

Trying to create a tropical ambiance?

It's all in the lighting.

These ceramic lights celebrate the natural beauty of bamboo and set the mood.

Making the ceramic casing starts with a slurry of clay and water known as slip.

A propeller mixer evenly distributes the particles.

The slip flows through a hose and into plaster molds.

The artisan controls the amount going in, ensuring that each one is filled just below the brim.

Over 3 hours, the clay thickens and congeals along the edges.

After pouring out the remaining slip, he trims the clay casting, which has a putty-like consistency.

After leaving it to solidify a bit more, he carefully disassembles the mold, revealing the clay casting with a bamboo-like detail.

After curing overnight, the casting further solidifies, and the color lightens.

Using a knife, he adds more definition to some of the detail and cleans up the rough edges.

He also shaves off protrusions formed where the mold parts came together.

He lightly sands the entire bamboo ceramic casting to smooth over any remaining imperfections.

Using a wet sea sponge, he washes the entire casting.

This softens the clay on the surface and gets rid of any minute scratches left by the sanding.

The artisan then cuts holes in the back of the casting.

One is for installing the light socket, and the other is to run wires to the electrical junction box.

With the clay surface still moist, he carves nodes, or joints, into the bamboo canes.

He also cuts wide vertical lines to create the effect of cracks that occur in bamboo naturally when they dry out.

After firing the clay casting in a kiln and then cooling it overnight, the material has become a strong, durable piece of ceramic.

This craftsperson examines it for imperfections and then begins the painting process.

She sprays a very light yellow paint onto the bamboo ceramic.

This gives the piece just a hint of color, but it provides the desired undertone.

Next, she mixes a green oil paint with thinner and then brushes the mix into the grooves and notches.

This accentuates these areas.

She also brushes it onto the edges of the bamboo ceramic light box to better define the profile.

Using a soft cotton cloth, she blots up some paint from the palette and wipes it on the ceramic.

This softens the brush strokes and gives the ceramic cane structure a hint of green.

She sets the light casing on a revolving stand and inspects the coverage.

She then applies a liberal amount of brown paint to the entire piece, and the brown color completely overpowers the green and yellow paints.

She rubs off a lot of the brown paint.

This tones it down and subtly brings out the other colors.

This produces color variations that evoke the different tones of dry bamboo.

The paint transforms the piece.

A technician inserts the socket and pulls the wires through one of the holes and out the back.

He secures the socket in the light box from the back with a washer and nut, and that completes this bamboo ceramic light fixture.

Making it takes roughly 1 week, but the final result is very unique.

While providing illumination, it may also be an object of conversation.

Asphalt compactors are the heavy rollers of paving.

They're equipped with vibrating drums that weigh several tons.

The sheer load, in combination with the mechanical vibrations, compact new pavement.

This locks the aggregate particles together in order to provide a strong and stable road.

The asphalt compactor vibrates as it applies its weight to fresh pavement, and this process removes air pockets that could ruin the newly laid road.

To make this critical piece of road-building equipment, a computerized plasma torch cuts through heavy-gauge steel.

The operator selects the programs that guide the cutting.

The torch cuts out the compactor's body panels, the plates for the rollers, and many other parts.

A worker welds the front of the compactor frame together, and he attaches bracket plates for a pivot-hinge steering system.

Another worker guides a steel plate into a rolling machine.

The machine shapes the thick steel into the shell of a compactor roller.

The machine requires a few passes to establish the correct radius.

A crane then transfers the rolled steel to a fixture that positions bulkheads within the shell.

It then lifts the shell with the bulkheads and fixture onto a table, and a worker wraps cables around it.

He adjusts the length of the cables with a thick steel pin.

He tucks brackets behind the cables at the seams to protect them during the welding that will come later.

He installs chains and tightens them to hold the shell steady on the table.

He then activates what's called the squeezer.

Hydraulically powered, this machine pulls the cables to close the gap in the shell, and while the cable keeps the seam tight, the worker tack welds the seam and bulkheads from the inside.

With the tack welds holding everything together, a robot does the full welds on both the seam and the bulkheads.

The seam weld is large and protrudes from the shell...

So the next worker grinds the seam flush to the rest of the shell, allowing the roller to operate smoothly.

After a thorough wash, the roller goes into a paint booth to be sprayed first with epoxy primer and then urethane paint.

The rollers spend about 50 minutes in an oven to bake on the coatings.

An electric tug transfers them to the assembly line.

Here, the rear half of the compactor frame is taking shape.

A worker bolts the hitch to the frame.

He attaches a hydraulic steering cylinder to the hitch and secures it with a thick steel pin.

The next worker screws guide pins to the hitch.

He runs hydraulic hoses to the front section and links the rear structure to the front.

Next, workers lower the diesel engine into the front frame.

They anchor the engine by driving thick bolts into substantial engine mounts.

A center pivot link provides a second connection between the front and back parts of the compactor.

A worker torques the bolts that secure the link to the back.

Moving forward, workers lower the operator platform into place, complete with a seat and the controls.

They secure the control base to the frame with bolts in each of the four corners.

The compactor is now ready for the two rollers.

They've been equipped with vibrating mechanisms since we saw them last.

The team bolts the back roller in place and then connects the lines to the hydraulic systems that drive it.

They install the second roller and connect the hydraulic and electrical lines.

They calibrate the rollers to ensure they operate at the same speed.

They adjust the pivot steering if needed, and then it's time to roll.


Fresh Cut Flowers
Adhesive Tape
Tofu
Lottery Tickets

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

Fresh cut flowers...

Adhesive tape...

Tofu...

Tofu...

And lottery tickets.

And lottery tickets.

To wish condolences, congratulations, or for romance, there's no shortage of occasions for sending flowers.

Whether made up in a splendid arrangement or simply placed in a vase, fresh cut flowers rarely go unappreciated.

Roses are a perennial favorite.

Florists buy them from commercial greenhouses.

Those greenhouses have sophisticated sprinkler systems positioned to irrigate the soil rather than the plants because watering directly on the rose bushes would grow harmful fungus.

The hotter the weather, the more watering is required-- up to seven times daily for about five minutes each time.

The greenhouse climate is computer-controlled.

If it gets too humid, the computer automatically triggers the roof to open, bringing down the temperature.

The ideal greenhouse temperature for most flowers is about 70 degrees fahrenheit during the daytime and 60 degrees at night.

With every watering, the roses get a low-level dose of fertilizer, the botanical version of taking a daily vitamin supplement.

It's a mix of nitrogen, phosphate, and potassium.

The proportions are determined by ongoing soil analysis.

If the pest specialist detects a bug problem, he applies an insecticide treatment to target the particular pest, but first, they close the roof so as not to pollute the outside environment.

Workers handling the chemicals wear masks and protective wear masks and protective clothing.

Clothing.

The roses grow through the openings of horizontal trellises positioned one above the other.

This ensures the stems grow tall and straight.

Crooked roses, after all, are worthless.

Cutting the roses is tricky and prickly.

Workers have to wear thick gloves to protect them against the thorns.

They cut the stem at a 30-to-45 degree angle just above the second set of 5 leaves.

The cut must be precisely at that spot for a second rose to bloom about 40 to 55 days later, depending on the season.

Growth is slower in winter because there's less sun.

The growth period also varies somewhat according to the variety of rose.

The fresh cut roses go into a bucket of lukewarm water with a few drops of bleach to kill off any harmful bacteria.

Workers then check each and every rose to make sure the blooms and foliage are free of blooms and foliage are free of defects.

Defects.

Then they classify the roses by length.

The longer the stem, the more the longer the stem, the more the rose is worth.

The rose is worth.

They make a bundle of each length...

Then trim the bottom of the stems to equalize the height.

They wrap the roses in newsprint so they won't dry out during shipping.

The transport trucks are refrigerated in summer and heated in winter to keep the roses at a safe temperature, about 40 degrees fahrenheit.

To make a bouquet of dried roses they select open blooms for a nicer look, then hang them upside down in a room cooled by fans.

They leave lots of space between bouquets so the air will better circulate.

The roses take a week to dry out.

Fresh cut flowers are striking, whether part of an arrangement or in a vase.

They can last in water for about a week, provided you trim half an inch of the stems to open up the water channels.

Fill the vase with lukewarm water, never cold water.

Pour in a bit of bleach to ward off stem-clogging bacteria.

Change the water every three days, and be sure to keep the flowers away from the heat of a flowers away from the heat of a sunny window.

Sunny window.

Adhesive tape was invented in 1925 as a painter's masking tape for auto-body shops.

That led to transparent tape, designed to seal the cellophane wrap used by the food industry.

Then tape was introduced as a household item, and the idea just stuck.

These rolls of plastic film called polypropylene are on their way to becoming shipping tape.

The rolls go on a machine called the unwinder.

Workers then position a strip of adhesive splicing tape along the end of each roll.

This will enable them to connect one roll after another, creating an uninterrupted feed to the production line.

Now watch closely.

Once a roll unwinds completely, its end sticks onto the splicing tape at the beginning of the next roll.

Once that roll's unwound, its end will stick to the beginning of the next, and so on.

An automatic tension adjuster ensures that the machine pulls the film evenly to prevent ripping.

The unwinder also applies a solvent to the film's surface.

This prevents the film from sticking while unrolling.

To transform this film into tape, they coat one side with a hot adhesive known as hotmelt, made from several ingredients.

Synthetic rubber gives it flexibility.

A u.v. protector keeps it from drying and discoloring, while an antioxidant prevents aging.

Synthetic resin makes it sticky, while pigmentation oil provides a choice of color-- in this case, tan.

They load the hotmelt into a preheated holding tank, which keeps the melt at a piping 390 degrees fahrenheit to prevent it from hardening.

The tank pumps the adhesive to a machine called the gluer.

They wipe away the excess, then roll the film.

And there goes the adhesive.

A cooling roller-- that black one on top-- immediately hardens it.

A computerized sensor ensures there's an even coat of adhesive.

If not, it automatically signals to the pump to adjust the output.

Now a machine called the rewinder rolls the tape onto spools.

Remember the unwinder that spliced the rolls together?

Well, the rewinder unsplices them.

When a spool fills, a knife separates the tape at the splice point so that winding can begin point so that winding can begin on the next spool.

On the next spool.

The tape on just one of these spools would run the length of 85 football fields.

The spools feed a row of sharp razor blades called the slitters which divide the 5-foot-wide tape into several strips.

Shipping tape is almost 2 inches wide, so they get 31 strips per spool.

Each strip winds onto a cardboard core, and its end is cardboard core, and its end is sealed with a tab.

Sealed with a tab.

The length of tape per roll varies according to the customer's specifications.

As the machine ejects the finished tape rolls, in comes the next batch of cardboard cores.

Then it's off to the packaging department.

Nothing's shipped out, however, before a quality-control check.

They test a sample roll from each spool.

In one test, they unroll the tape sticky side up, then release a tiny, stainless-steel ball down an incline, measuring how far the ball rolls before it sticks and comes to a stop.

To pass the test, the ball has to adhere within a certain distance.

The stopping distance varies depending on the type of depending on the type of adhesive tape.

Adhesive tape.

Some people just can't get past that rubbery texture, but tofu enthusiasts say it's all in how you prepare it.

Tofu is a great source of protein, low in saturated fat, and cholesterol-free.

And it's versatile, absorbing whatever flavors surround it.

Tofu is made from soybeans, the seeds that grow in the pods of the soybean plant.

They contain 40% protein, more than double the protein in beef or fish.

They start by soaking the soybeans in cold water for 18 to 24 hours, depending on the season.

In winter, beans are stored in outdoor silos and take time to warm to room temperature.

Here's what the beans look like before and after soaking.

As they absorb the water, they double in size and soften up a bit.

The bloated soybeans go on to a conveyor belt where a rotating device transports them to a crushing machine.

The machine crushes them into a thick and grainy soup of soybean milk and pulp.

It does this by forcing the beans through an internal filtering screen.

Next, they transform the soup into a paste by heating it in a steam cooker for 3 to 4 minutes.

Then it's into a centrifuge machine.

As the chamber spins, the centrifugal force separates the milk and pulp.

The milk passes through a cone-shaped filter, while the pulp, called soy meal, sticks to the sides of the chamber.

The soy meal goes off to be sold for cattle and pet food.

The milk stays behind to be transformed into tofu.

Still piping hot, it goes into a coagulation tank to be thickened into curd, but first, they add different herbs and spices, because this batch will be sold as flavored tofu.

Then they add the coagulant, magnesium chloride...

Along with water to activate it.

Then more stirring.

It takes about 15 minutes for the soybean milk to congeal into soybean curd, otherwise known as tofu.

When it's ready, it's still steaming but pretty soggy, so they run it through a perforated cylinder to drain as much liquid as possible.

By the time the tofu comes out the other end of the cylinder, it's relatively dry and roughly the consistency of scrambled eggs.

Now it can be processed into those familiar blocks you buy at the supermarket.

They transfer the tofu into large rectangular molds lined with cheesecloth.

Then it's into a press that applies 130 pounds of pressure.

This squeezes out most of the remaining liquid and molds the lumpy, loose tofu into a firm rectangular block measuring 15 by 29 inches.

They cut the block lengthwise and widthwise into 54 blocks of 10 1/2 ounces each.

Tofu is pretty tasteless, but like a sponge, it absorbs the flavor of whatever it comes into contact with.

They drench this batch in a spicy marinade to make jalapeño-flavored tofu.

After verifying the weight of each block, they package the tofu with a sprinkle of spices for garnish.

Then, to kill off any bacteria, the blocks go into a pasteurizer at 230 degrees fahrenheit for an hour.

When they come out, they drop into a cooling basin filled with water just above freezing temperature.

They stay submerged for about an hour.

Tofu comes either preflavored or plain.

It also comes in different textures.

Firm tofu maintains its shape in soups and stir-fries, while soft tofu and silken tofu are ideal tofu and silken tofu are ideal for blended dishes and desserts.

For blended dishes and desserts.

The odds of winning big in a lottery are slim to say the least.

Still, we keep hoping that lottery ticket will become our one-way ticket to extreme wealth.

Experts say your odds of picking the winning numbers never change no matter how many people buy tickets.

Lotteries are by no means a modern invention.

The emperors of ancient rome held them for entertainment.

European monarchs used state lotteries to help fund their extravagant lifestyles, and the american colonies held lotteries to finance roadwork and construction projects.

Pressure from the church and widespread fraud led many countries to ban lotteries during the 1800s, but governments eventually reconsidered.

They just couldn't resist they just couldn't resist milking that cash cow.

Milking that cash cow.

Eye-catching lottery tickets are designed by graphic artists.

A technician takes the design, separates it by color, then sends the information to a machine called an image setter, which generates one negative per color.

Next, they place the appropriate colored film under each negative and expose it to ultraviolet light.

This hardens the color not shielded by the dark portions of the negative.

When they wash away the unhardened color, they're left with a color image.

They layer the films to make the client a mockup of the finished lottery ticket, in this case a scratch-and-win type.

Now they make the printing plates-- one for each color of the design-- first for the non-playing area, everything outside the scratch zone.

Each negative goes onto a paper-thin aluminum plate coated with a u.v.-sensitive emulsion.

They expose the plate to u.v. light for about 20 seconds.

This hardens the unshielded emulsion.

The rest is washed away in a chemical bath, leaving the design in relief on the plate.

For the ticket's playing area, a similar process is used, but instead of an aluminum plate coated in emulsion, they use one made of photo polymer, a light-sensitive plastic.

The finished plates are now ready to go on to the printing press.

Their raised service will work just like a rubber ink stamp.

The non-playing area goes on first.

This method is called offset printing.

The press applies up to nine different colors, one after another, from lightest to darkest.

High-intensity u.v. lights dry the ink in the mere half-second between color applications.

Next comes the playing area.

A high-speed ink-jet printer first applies the game numbers, chosen randomly by computer.

Infrared lamps dry the ink in a split second.

A strobe light enables the press operator to do spot checks as the tickets whiz by at a rate of 16 feet per second.

Then the printer gives each ticket a unique bar code.

This enables ticket vendors to scan your ticket to see if you've won.

It also shows whether a winning ticket is genuine or a forgery.

The next machine seals the game numbers with layers of varnish and applies six coats of scratchable ink.

An electronic scanner checks the positioning of the scratchable ink, making sure it hides the numbers.

The first three scratchable-ink coats are black.

The next three are white.

All those layers are used to keep cheaters from holding the card up to the light to see the numbers.

Now they can finally print the playing area design onto that white background-- in this case, a crossword design.

A machine now perforates the rolls of tickets so they can be folded.

It processes almost 10 feet of tickets per second.

Here's what that looks like in here's what that looks like in slow motion.

Slow motion.

The next machine folds the tickets along the perforation lines into piles called fan folders.

Goodbye, slow motion.

Goodbye, slow motion.

Here's the actual speed.

Here's the actual speed.

Before the lottery tickets are shipped out, several samples undergo a quality-control inspection.

The company checks that the tickets are properly printed.

It also performs a series of scratch tests and chemical tests to make sure they're absolutely to make sure they're absolutely cheatproof.

Cheatproof.


Screwdrivers
Compact Track Loaders
Physician Scales
Carbon Fibre Bats

Bit by bit, the screwdriver makes the life of a handyman a whole lot easier.

The screwdriver first showed up in the early part of the 19th century.

It evolved from a flat-bladed bit used in a carpenter's brace, and its invention was a definite turning point.

These trusty tools come with different bits to fit a variety of screwheads, so all you have to do is apply the right torque, and it's mission accomplished.

The job of making screwdrivers starts with coils of specially formulated steel.

Wheels straighten a thick wire, and then it travels through an aperture.

On the other side, a machine rocks back and forth as it cuts the wire to length and forces it through four dies.

The first die narrows the steel to the required diameter.

The others form a hexagonal bolster partway down.

This bolster will allow a wrench to be applied to the screwdriver to increase its turning power.

A quick shower washes away the lubricant, and these screwdriver shafts are ready for inspection.

The technician examines them for defects and measures the length and the dimensions of the hexagonal bolster.

Once he confirms that everything is to specification, the screwdriver shafts head into a machine that will transform the tips into a slotted shape.

At the first two stations, the press flattens the tip.

The third one trims it and stamps the part number onto it.

The flat blade is probably the most common of screwdrivers.

Its chiseled tip turns a standard slotted screw.

After the screwdrivers are heat-treated to increase their hardness, they sand the tips to shave off .

1 of a millimeter.

They confirm that with this slotted guide.

Then they insert the screwdrivers into a different slotted device.

This one shuttles them over to a grinding wheel.

This wheel trims them to their final dimensions.

Visually, the change is subtle, but this fine-tuning will make a big difference in the screwdrivers' performance.

Now they twirl in a machine that blasts the tips with mild abrasive.

This texturizes the surface to allow this screwdriver to really grip a screwhead.

The texturized tip is the one on the right.

Over at another station, a different kind of screwdriver is taking shape.

This is a phillips.

Its tip has a beveled cross point to correspond with a phillips screw.

This machine carves ridges into the bevels of the cross point to give it extra gripping power.

A press then slams into the other end of the screwdriver to create flanged grooves.

These grooves will allow them to lock the screwdriver shaft into its handle.

It's time for some positive vibrations.

This vibrating feeder causes the screwdrivers to chafe against each other, and the action removes any waste material.

After they texturize the cross-point tip, it's over to a laser machine.

It etches the part numbers onto these polyurethane handles.

And now for the gripping part.

The assembler attaches the handle to the screwdriver blade.

He then places the screwdriver in a machine that applies mechanical force to solidly entrench the shaft in the handle.

With the screwdrivers now on a tray, they move through a curtain of plastic.

A machine heat-seals the plastic around the edges.

The loosely wrapped tray then enters a special furnace, and the heat shrinks the plastic around the tray to neatly wrap up this job.

It has taken several days to make these screwdrivers, and now they're ready for the twists and turns of any job.

Tools like these screwdrivers are really an extension of the human hand.

A quality tool will enable you to work with more precision, but, of course, you have to grasp the fundamentals of your project.

And depending on what kind of handyman you are, that could be a whole other story.

Compact track loaders move materials like dirt, gravel, and even snow into a dump truck or any other type of machinery.

The rubber tracks give them the traction to work hard while treading lightly over soft ground conditions like grass.

Compact track loaders can be used year round.

Compact track loaders give a smooth and stable ride over all sorts of terrain.

Their rubber tracks and suspension allow them to turn on a dime and work in places where other machines can't.

To start, technicians attach four sets of mid wheels to a frame rail.

The wheels are made of plastic and rubber.

Then they assemble the axle suspension using rubber cords so the wheels can flex up and down.

They tighten the bolts and mark them as done.

After they attach two more sets of mid wheels, what's called the frame-rail assembly is complete.

Technicians then attach a turnbuckle to the frame rail.

The turnbuckle will be used to tighten or loosen the rubber track.

Next, they put together the drive sprocket assembly-- the part that drives the track.

They put a drive motor into a housing, add the sprocket assembly, then put on a heavy-duty bearing.

Finally, they install a support plate which completes the drive-motor assembly.

A technician then mounts the drive-motor assembly onto the frame-rail assembly.

Technicians install the rubber track onto the frame-rail assembly.

A little lubrication makes the track go on easier until its molded lugs interlock with the drive-sprocket assembly.

Next comes a larger idler wheel, which they install at the end of the track, securing it on the axle.

He tightens the turnbuckle to give the rubber track the correct tension, completing the undercarriage assembly.

The track loader will ride on two of these undercarriages.

A technician installs the machine's main suspension onto the chassis, then connects the hydraulic-valve assembly.

It's the hub to which they connect all the hydraulic lines and hoses used to control the machine.

Using a crane, the technician mounts the engine to the chassis.

Once the engine is secure, he puts on the integrated fuel tank.

He installs a hydraulic cylinder and connects its two fluid lines.

One cylinder goes on each side of the machine.

They are used to move the loader bucket up and down.

He then connects the undercarriage assembly to the chassis using an undercarriage pin and pneumatic wrench to secure it in place.

A technician now installs the loader assembly-- the part that holds the bucket or other attachment.

Once installed, this machine can lift more than 3 tons.

He secures the assembly in place using heavy-duty pins.

Then technicians install the operator's station that helps protect the driver from the elements and from debris.

A technician makes sure the loader arm works properly, then drives the track loader on a treadmill to test all the systems.

He runs the engine at full speed until it reaches the appropriate operating temperature.

This shows that everything is working as it should.

Finally, he affixes the company logo.

Compact track loaders are strong and agile machines.

They work just as well on dry surfaces as they do in wet and muddy conditions.

Stepping onto the scale at the doctor's office is a moment of truth not everyone enjoys.

Little has changed in the simple design of these scales since the early 1900s.

Cast iron has given way to steel and aluminum.

That means they've actually gotten lighter over the years, unlike some of us.

This scale compares the weight placed on the platform with a standard weight known as a poise that slides along an off-center waybeam until it balances.

A punch press forms sheet steel into the head, or top of the scale's column.

Workers form the column from another piece of steel using this press brake.

Then they spot-weld the head and column together.

Another machine stamps out lengths of steel that will form the frame for the scale's base.

Workers use the press brake again to bend both sides of the steel lengths.

Then they fold it by hand to form the frame.

They clamp the frame onto a base, and this robot welds them together.

The robot moves on to weld other components to the scale, such as the lever mechanism and the baseplate.

Now workers place steel bearings at each corner of the base, where the lever mechanism will rest then add the base frame.

Next, they install the long lever...

Then the short lever.

A c-clip joins them together.

Once it's right-side up, the lever mechanism hangs off the platform.

The columns receive a coat of electrostatically charged paint that evenly coats the metal for a flawless finish.

Once it's dry, a machine silk-screens the brand name onto the column.

Now for the final assembly.

A worker inserts a 4-foot steel rod that will tie the waybeam to the levers.

He works the rod up through the column, then, at the column's head, he screws it to the waybeam's shelf.

Another worker hammers the large poise into position on the waybeam, then the smaller poise.

They screw on to the beam in two parts so they can glide freely.

She applies a gauge onto the beam that indicates the weight measured in pounds from 0 to 350.

Now she takes a zero-adjustment screw and spring-loads it onto the beam.

This allows the beam to balance when the poises are set at zero and the scale is unweighted.

A retaining ring holds the screw in place.

At the assembly line, workers fasten the scale's column to its base.

They cover the pivot to protect it from wear and set down the waybeam that balances on it.

Then they connect it to the steel rod that comes up through the column from the base.

Once the waybeam connects to the lever mechanism at the base, the scale is functional.

Now it's time to make sure it's accurate.

Each scale goes to a weigh station where workers check the readings in 44-pound increments.

If the readings are off, workers go back and remove some lead from inside the large poise so the scale calibrates perfectly.

Just a few grams of lead can make all the difference in accuracy.

Finally, they place a plastic cover over the working parts, and the scale is complete.

When the competition is stiff, sometimes it helps to be a little flexible, and that's the idea behind the carbon-fiber softball bat.

Manufacturers can tweak the stiffness of carbon fiber to produce a bat with some elasticity.

It's a striking innovation.

Carbon bats are a high-tech way to improve your game.

Incredibly, these hard-hitting bats start with pliable sheets of carbon-fiber infused with a special resin.

They crisscross the sheets and then iron the side with a paper liner to melt the layers at the seams.

A hot steel roller then applies some serious pressure to fuse the carbon-fiber layers together.

They slice it to size.

Now they peel away that paper liner and spiral the carbon fiber around a steel bat form.

By changing the angle of the weave, they can fine-tune the bat's elasticity to a league's specifications or to an individual player's performance level.

They wind polypropylene tape around the carbon layers to squeeze out the air between them.

They bake the carbon in an oven for two hours.

This cures the resin impregnated in the carbon so the many layers become one.

After they slice away the tape, they slide braided weaves of carbon and fiberglass over the fused carbon form.

They secure the braided tubing with tape.

They pull a layer of thick carbon over that, followed by a superstrong synthetic weave called aramid.

One last taping, and this softball bat is ready to take shape.

They place the carbon-wrapped forms in a mold.

As the mold closes around them, they prepare an epoxy resin.

They then inject the resin into the mold.

It permeates the many layers wrapped around the steel form.

The mold applies hot pressure to bake the layers together and define the contours of these bats.

It takes just a few minutes in the mold to transform the many layers into a solid bat.

This 5-ton puller now extracts the steel form on which the carbon bat was built.

They use this pneumatic equipment to test its flexibility.

A lathe now spins the bat as a cutter moves in and carves the hardened resin base into a knob.

The knob on the right now meets league specifications.

Now this carbon bat goes for another spin so they can sand it from every angle.

They dip the bats two at a time in black primer and hang them to dry.

The bat then takes on a more colorful appearance with a variety of spray paints.

They transfer decals with production information onto the barrel of the bat, and a laser burns the company logo and serial number into the painted carbon.

They cap the bat by press-fitting a polycarbonate plug to the barrel.

Resin completes the seal, and they add extra to adjust the bat's weight to league specifications.

They pump the resin in through a hole in the knob, and it flows up to the barrel plug.

Then they weigh each bat to verify that it's within an acceptable range.

Using a hydraulic ram, they drive a steel pin into the hole on the bottom of the knob to achieve the correct balance point.

And it's time to wrap this carbon bat with synthetic leather, making it easier to grip.

These high-tech bats are now ready to team up with raw talent, and they could blow the competition out of the ball park.


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

Carbon-fiber masts...

Fortune cookies...

Imax projectors...

And roller chains.

In the world of sailing, lightweight ideas are the best kind.

This carbon-fiber mast is a good example.

At the half the weight of aluminum or wood, it allows the boat to move faster, and it's a pillar of strength, easily holding up a full sail.

Whether you're a sailor or passenger, it's nice to know you can count on its support.

They launch production of a sailboat mast with a strip of carbon fiber.

They wrap it around a long mast form, which will serve as a mold.

They trim the material and peel away the paper backing.

Between 20 and 100 layers will be wound around the mold, depending on the size of the mast.

They apply some layers in a crisscross manner to give the mast more structural integrity and help it hold its shape.

They cut away the overlap so that the edges meet perfectly.

The material is a bit creased and bulky at this point, so they wrap it with plastic pull tape to compress it.

Then they remove it.

This temporary taping is done after each layer, but they leave it on after the final one and tape a breather cloth around it.

Then they pull a long plastic vacuum bag over the entire thing.

They seal the ends with tape.

They attach the vacuum connector and hose and turn it on.

It sucks air from between the carbon layers, compressing them further.

Next, it all heads into an autoclave to be baked under pressure.

This will squeeze more air from the layers.

At the same time, the heat will activate glue impregnated into the material, permanently fusing the layers.

They make this fitting in a similar fashion.

It's called a gooseneck plate, and it will connect a boom or spinnaker pole to the mast.

Back to the mast.

They pull the big aluminum mold out of the mast tube.

Using a disk sander, they rough up the surface so paint will stick.

They drill two holes.

And using a jigsaw with a special blade, they connect them, making one wide slot.

And remember the gooseneck plate?

They trim it using the jigsaw so that it will fit snugly on the mast.

Next, a worker maneuvers a plastic pipe with a string on the end.

He threads the string through the mast tube, then hooks it and pulls it out of the slot made earlier.

It's a messenger line, and it will be used to install the rope halyard that will raise the sail.

They also use messenger strings to install electrical wiring, connecting such things as radar, horns, and lights.

They're all funneled through the inside of the mast.

The mast has now been painted, and a worker installs the upper end of the pulley system for the halyard.

He slides in a pin that holds the halyard pulley and bolts on a guard to keep the rope from fraying.

Next, they screw on a device that will let the captain know which way the wind is blowing--  the wind indicator.

He twist-locks a signal light to the top of the mast.

It will indicate the boat's direction to passing vessels.

Now they attach a piece called the toggle.

It's a connector piece between the gooseneck plate and the boom.

This carbon-fiber mast is now seaworthy and will soon make its debut on the water.

The fortune cookie is a snack with a message, and the message is usually as sweet as the sugary shell.

But there is one surprising thing about the fortune cookie.

It wasn't invented in china, but in california in the early part of the 20th century, and people in china have never really developed a taste for it.

Yes, the fortune cookie is about as american as apple pie.

But more than pie, it gives you something to think about.

To make a batch of fortune cookies, they start with a sack of sugar.

They empty the whole thing into a big steel mixer.

Fortune cookies are about 20% sugar.

They add some food coloring, just enough to turn the cookies that distinctive gold shade, then some melted vegetable shortening.

They pour in some starch as a thickener.

Pipes spray water into the mix.

And then they add pastry flour.

This soft wheat flour will give the cookies their texture.

They add a bit more water, because too little of it would make for a crumbly batch.

Then it's time to mix it all up.

After a few minutes, they check the consistency.

Then they pour in more melted shortening and a soy-based lecithin.

Once that's blended in, the cookie mix ebbs from the bowl as a hose pumps it out from the bottom.

Next, ejector nozzles squirt the batter onto hot moving trays, making precise little patties that look like regular cookies.

You could call this "the wheel of fortune cookies".

Hot molding plates revolve.

Each one descends and presses onto four fortune-cookie patties, flattening and shaping them.

They travel through an oven that's almost 30 feet in length and bake for about a minute.

They come out of the oven piping hot and are given no time to cool down, because these fortune-cookie patties need to stay soft so they can be easily manipulated in the next step.

Steel prongs push little paper fortunes into each cookie as they fold it into that distinctive butterfly shape.

There are about 5,000 different fortunes in the mix at this factory, so it would be rare to get the same fortune twice.

This plant makes a truly astounding number of fortune cookies every day--  about 4 million.

The folding molds open as the track descends.

The fortune cookies, now cooled and crispy, drop to a conveyor below.

It takes each fortune cookie through a wrapping mechanism, which envelopes it in plastic.

Then a hot blade cuts and seals the package in one fell swoop.

The packaged fortune cookies transfer to another conveyor, which transports them to an inspection station where many production lines converge.

A worker checks to make sure there are no breaks in the package or the cookie.

He tosses out any rejects.

After all, a broken fortune cookie could be bad luck.

A box moves into position, and hundreds of cookies fall into it-- 350 cookies, to be precise.

They're portioned out by a scale overhead.

Then a plastic ram gently presses the cookies into the box to reduce the bulk.

A conveyor belt moves the box full of cookies under a metal bar, which pushes the flaps down to close it.

And now the time has come to crack open the cookie in the proverbial ritual.

Hope our fortune is a good one.

So, you want to be on the big screen.

You won't get there without a movie projector.

It was invented over a century ago, and the concept is the same today.

Film revolves in front of a light which projects an image onto a screen.

But the latest technological advancements allow for much bigger screens.

Its film is 10 times larger than normal, and the projector magnifies it 400 times as it moves in a sideways-rolling loop, rather than the traditional vertical feed.

And instead of the usual sprockets, registration pins retract as the film loads and then reach out to steady it as it rolls.

A vacuum sucks the film to the aperture lens.

This is how they keep the gigantic image perfectly steady.

To make an imax projector, they bolt two prisms together and mount them on a part called the lower illumination module.

The prisms and a mirror will reflect the projector's light to a similar part called the upper illumination module, which will relay the light to the lens.

It's a fly's-eye lens, a collection of many lenses on one glass.

Each will focus to a single point, ensuring an even distribution of light.

A technician screws two fly's-eye lenses together and then places them in a fixture to align the two halves.

He switches on a light and places an alignment guide over the lenses.

There are red and green filters on this guide, and he brings them into focus.

He adjusts them until the red and green lines merge.

It means the two fly's-eye lenses are now aligned.

Next, they install the upper illumination module in the projector frame, and then they flip it.

They remove the protective cap from the back.

Then they attach it to the lower illumination module which we saw assembled earlier.

Here, they bolt together the rotor support and motor.

The rotor is this big wheel.

It's the heart of the projector.

It drives the film forward in that distinctive wavelike action.

This piece, called a stader, will act as a guide for the film.

He fits the aperture block on the front of the frame.

Using a crane, they lower it onto the base.

They screw in spacer bars and install the second projector assembly.

These two assemblies will enable the system to run three-dimensional movies.

Now it's time to position the main lens at the front of the projector.

They remove the lens cap, and it's time for the film.

The film wave happens 24 times a second.

We've slowed down this footage so you can see it all happen.

The film of a test chart ripples in front of the aperture, and then vacuums pull it down for a 1/24 of a second.

This eliminates any shakiness in the projected image.

Now we're showing it in real time.

You get the picture.

There's also nothing ordinary about the lamps the imax projector uses.

They're very powerful, but they use the light very efficiently.

And now it's time to enjoy the show.

Roller chains are used all over.

We're all familiar with them as the chains that move energy to the wheels of our bikes.

But roller chains also transfer energy in industrial and agricultural machinery.

They really keep things moving, and without them, a lot of important equipment would be powerless.

To make a roller chain, a punch press pulls steel from a giant spool.

Using 500 tons of force, it cuts shapes out of the steel.

These shapes are the link plates that will join all the parts of the roller chain.

The plates travel on a series of conveyors.

An arm positions them as they head towards the next punch press that makes two holes in each link plate.

A worker then pours them onto a tray and spreads them evenly across it.

A vibratory mechanism shuffles them into a blazing furnace.

This heat treatment toughens the steel.

Then they cool down slowly in a tank of oil.

After that, they go for a tumble in the washer, to get rid of the oily residue.

Meanwhile, another machine uncoils some steel to make bushings, or sleeves, for the chain pins.

The blade slices the material to the correct length.

Then mechanical arms fold the steel around a mandrel.

Here's the action in slow motion.

In real time, it all happens faster than you can blink an eye.

The bushings fall into a bin, and now they're ready to be heat-treated.

They open the furnace and stand away from the blast.

A railcar takes the bushings into the flames.

This may look destructive, but the bushings will come out stronger.

Now it's time to make the pin that will hold everything together.

This machine shoves a steel rod into a jig, and a saw cuts it to size, which varies, depending on the chain it will be used for.

A mechanical arm then picks up the pin and transports it to rotating heads, which machine down the ends.

The pins then travel across a grinding wheel, which reduces them to a specific diameter.

Next, they go through a wash cycle.

A special mix of lubricant and solvents rinses away the residue from the grinding.

These are the pins before and after grinding.

Now it's time to put the pieces together.

This is a breakdown of what happens at a blurring pace on the assembly line.

The link plates and bushings go into an assembly device.

A ram presses them together.

They remove them and place two more link plates in the device.

They position rollers on top of them and slide the bushings and link-plate assembly into place.

They press-fit it all together.

And now they have links for the roller chain.

The next step is to fit the roller links together.

They clamp them into a fixture and slide in pins.

A hydraulic ram presses the pins to the base of the assembly.

Then they connect the pins with another link plate and press it in place.

This is repeated as they lengthen the roller chain.

They can also widen it to enable it to handle more horsepower.

To do this, they stack single strands of roller chain.

They use longer pins to hold all the layers together.

Again, a fixture holds it in place while the ram does its work.

This produces heavy-duty roller chain.

The one shown can handle 400 horsepower.

Finally, they lower the roller chain into a vat of hot grease to lubricate the joints.

And that's the end of the production process for the roller chain.