The best way to protect your bicycle against theft is a heavy-duty lock.

A u-lock is the most secure option.

Unlike a cable or chain lock, you can't quickly sever a u-lock with a pair of bolt cutters.

It takes large conspicuous tools-- not something a thief can likely get away with unobserved.

U-locks come in various sizes so that you can lock your bike to different structures from thin bike racks to thicker tree trunks.

The shackle and lock are made of hardened high-alloy steel, which is resistant to cutting, sawing, and twisting.

To shape the shackle, workers load steel bars into a computer-guided bending machine.

The machine applies more than 25 tons of force to bend the bar in the shape of a "u".

The machine also notches each end of the shackle.

These notches are what receive the locking bolts.

To make the steel hard enough to be tamper-proof, they send the shackle to an outside facility for heat treatment.

This demonstration re-creates a small part of that complex process, which is to heat the shackle to almost 1,500 degrees fahrenheit to rearrange the molecular structure, cool it in oil to set the hardness of that rearrangement, then reheat at moderate temperature to restore the flexibility the steel lost due to the previous steps.

When the shackle returns to the factory, a laser machine precision measures and, if necessary, corrects the dimensions as per specifications.

Then the shackle is dipped in durable anti-corrosion paint.

Once the paint dries, and automated machine slips a pvc tube over the shackle.

Next, they screw a plastic bracket to one end of the shackle.

This connects to a corresponding bracket you screw to your bike frame to mount the lock on the bike when you're cycling.

The rectangular block that houses the locking system is called the lock body.

It, too, is made of hardened steel.

An automated press punches holes on the ends for the shackle and in the middle for the lock cylinder.

The locking system has a housing in the center for the cylinder.

Workers mount two metal plates over it.

When you insert the security-coded key in the cylinder and turn, the cylinder rotates within the housing and the plates move apart, triggering other components to lock the inserted shackle.

The cylinder is made of brass, a relatively soft metal, so there's an impenetrable steel plate on top to prevent a thief from drilling into it.

Workers give the cylinder grooves a squirt of grease-- the housing, as well-- then insert pins into the grooves.

These act as blockers, preventing the wrong key from opening the lock.

With the correct key, they give way, enabling the cylinder to rotate within the housing.

This spring applies tension to the cylinder's steel and drilling plate, keeping it in position so that the key inserts easily into the cylinder.

On each side, workers insert a lever and bolt.

When you turn the key to the locked position, the lever pushes the bolt into the shackle's notch, immobilizing the shackle.

This component spring-loads the bolt to prevent the inserted shackle from popping out prior to being locked.

A pneumatic machine inserts the locking system into the steel lock body.

A two-tone plastic cover gives the u-lock a snazzy appearance and makes the surface easier for the cyclist to grip.

Here's how the lock works.

When you turn the key, the cylinder rotates.

This moves the two plates over it outward, triggering the levers on each side to hold the bolt in the shackle notch, locking the shackle in place.

Every lock undergoes an opening and closing check.

Random samples are subjected to more extensive quality-control testing.

It takes 13 tons of cutting force to break the steel-- far more than even this larger-than-typical bolt cutter can apply.

This torsioning machine measures how much twisting the u-lock can withstand.

A bike-robber would have to apply more than 350 pounds of force with a crowbar.

The bike owner, on the other hand, needs only the coded key.

The native north american tepee was designed to be a home where the buffalo roamed.

Centuries ago, tribes were constantly on the move hunting the buffalo, which was their main source of food.

Easy to pack up and reassemble, the tepee served as a portable shelter for this nomadic lifestyle.

Today, people are rediscovering the appeal of a cone-shaped tent with a cook fire inside, and that's put the tepee on the comeback trail.

No need to hand-stitch tepees anymore.

Today, they produce them at a factory using industrial sewing machines.

They start with the front panel.

It's three layers of canvas and vinyl.

They sew details like pockets for poles to open smoke flaps and rectangular patterns to prevent stretching and tearing from holes for lacing the front of the tepee together when pitched.

The sewer now chops through the three layers of fabric with a chisel to make those holes.

Another sewer stitches strips of buffalo hide to the door opening to make it more rugged.

Using a pattern as a guide, the next worker cuts another panel on a slight curve.

He then pieces together panel after panel to construct the rest of the tepee cone.

He reinforces the hem with heavy nylon webbing.

He tucks loops between the webbing and the fabric and secures them with more stitching.

The loops will be used to stake the tepee to the ground.

The team stretches out the completed tepee cover.

An artist maps out some lines for painting on the fabric.

There's 73 yards of it.

It becomes a huge canvas for traditional artistry.

The designs are southwest american in style and highly symbolic.

Circles can represent phases of the moon or the sun.

A sample of the artwork has been drawn up beforehand for the client, and the artist refers to it as she works.

She brushes exterior latex paint thinned with water around the perimeter of the designs.

Then she soaks up paint onto a pad and presses it to the fabric within the painted lines.

This avoids brushstrokes and produces a flat finish that almost looks like dye.

With the artwork complete, the tepee cover now makes a colorful statement.

Outside, an employee shaves the bark off young trees to prepare the poles.

There are 17 per tepee.

Each one is 27 feet tall-- the height of a two-story building.

A two-person team now arranges three of the poles in a specific sequence to build the tripod that is the basic framework of the tepee.

The assembler lashes the poles near the top with thick rope and a tight knot.

He leaves a length of rope to dangle as they raise the tripod.

The rope will come in handy later on.

The arrangement situates the door pole east towards the rising sun and away from westward winds that could interfere with the cook fire.

The team props up the remaining poles between the main tripod poles.

The first two groups of poles form the front of the tepee, and a third group forms the back.

The assembler grabs the rope that still dangles from the central tripod, and, from the ground, winds it around all the poles where they meet at the top.

The last pole is called the lifting pole.

It's used to lift the painted tepee cover to the wood frame.

They unbundle the cover and wrap it around the poles like a blanket around a person's shoulders.

Once the fit is nice and snug, he laces the front panels together using willow branches for lacing pins.

There are 18 pins in total fastened above and below the doorway.

He pegs the canvas to the ground and then installs two last poles for opening and closing the smoke flaps from the ground.

Traditional in design with modern-day materials and construction, the tepee is still an idea worth pitching.

"croissant" is the french word for "crescent".

This flaky, curved roll is generally associated with france even though many food historians believe its origins are austrian.

Regardless of where it came from, the croissant is a popular breakfast pastry in many parts of the world.

Plain, with jam, or dipped in a cup of coffee, there's nothing like the light, flaky texture and buttery flavor of a croissant.

This commercial bakery makes its croissants with soft-spread margarine in lieu of butter.

The other ingredients are yeast, very cold water-- because warm water would trigger the yeast to react prematurely-- sugar, a touch of salt, and white all-purpose flour.

All the ingredients go inside an industrial mixer for 10 minutes-- first at slow speed to blend everything and form the dough, then faster to knead it.

Next, the sticky, elastic dough enters the multi-roller machine.

As an automated dispenser lightly dusts the dough with flour to prevent it from sticking to the equipment, a series of 16 rollers progressively flattens the dough into a thinner and thinner sheet.

The next process, lamination, is what creates the croissant's flaky layers.

The first station on this line extrudes 44-pound blocks of margarine into a 2/10-of-an-inch-thin sheet.

The next station lays the margarine sheet on top of the thin dough sheet then folds the ends of the dough upward, enveloping the margarine.

Then rollers compress the overlapped dough ends to seal the margarine inside and flatten the whole thing down to about 4/10-of-an-inch thick.

The next station repeatedly folds the dough over itself, then, with rollers again, presses the layers into a thin sheet.

This laminating cycle repeats over and over again until each dough block coming off the line comprises 243 layers.

Plastic wrap keeps the dough moist as it now undergoes eight hours of refrigeration.

The cold re-hardens the by-now softened margarine and lessens the dough's elasticity.

The dough is now ready for the automated machine that forms the croissants.

The first rollers progressively flatten the connected blocks into a thin sheet.

Then another roller runs over the dough horizontally to expand the sheet to the required width.

Next, cutters divide the sheet into seven thin bands, each one four inches wide.

Then a roller surfaced in triangular blades cuts each band of dough into triangles.

A robot separates the triangles and turns them all in the same direction with the flat side forward.

A stopper running the width of the conveyor belt aligns the triangles in straight rows for the next station, inside which a device rolls each triangle into the shape of the croissant.

The bakery's two forming machines output 50,000 raw-dough croissants per hour.

Next stop-- the proofer, a steam chamber inside which the heat and high humidity activate the yeast.

The dough rises, and by the time the croissants exit an hour later, they've doubled in size.

They now bake for 14 minutes in a tunnel oven at a temperature of 350 degrees fahrenheit.

The moisture in the dough evaporates, the resulting steam, along with the melting margarine, producing air bubbles which separate the layers, creating that signature flakiness.

The croissants are now fully baked, golden brown, and fragile.

Soft rubber suction cups delicately transfer them to a conveyor belt.

The belt leads to a spiral tower.

By the time the croissants descend to the bottom, they've completely cooled.

As they travel to packaging, a quality inspector pulls any misshapen croissant.

A multi-tasking robot slaps an adhesive label on plastic bags, counts out and drops in two dozen croissants, then securely seals the bags to lock in the freshness until the croissants reach your breakfast table.

Thousands of years ago, someone invented the wheel.

In 1970, this fundamental invention was applied to luggage thanks to an american luggage executive who came up with the concept while carrying heavy bags on a trip.

By the 1980s, virtually all luggage had wheels.

Today, we take rolling luggage with us everywhere we travel.

They take the heavy lifting out of a trip so it feels more like a vacation.

These hard-shell rolling bags start with polypropylene pellets.

It's a synthetic material.

They add a small amount of colored polypropylene pellets to the uncolored ones.

They'll act as a dye for the batch.

They allow the mix to dry for an hour, getting rid of humidity that would freeze in icy temperatures and cause the luggage to fracture.

They mix and melt the polypropylene pellets into a thick blue liquid.

Then it's over to the injection molding system.

The molds close and a nozzle injects the liquid polypropylene.

The molds are equipped with a cooling system so that the polypropylene hardens almost instantly into a lightweight yet durable material.

A pile of pellets becomes half of a luggage shell in mere seconds.

A robot transfers the molded shell to the next station.

An employee glues the company logo into a slot.

To ensure it really sticks, it's over to the logo machine.

It uses hydraulic energy to press the logo firmly into position.

He now screws a service handle into its molded slot.

This handle is for those times when the traveler has to lift the bag by hand, up stairs, or onto a baggage belt.

These triangular molded parts are the side feet.

They'll keep the luggage upright.

He fastens them onto the base of the shell.

It's time to close this bag.

He adds the other half.

He threads a steel rod into hinge holes to hold the two shells together.

Next, they mold wheels from nylon.

A robot transfers the wheels to another part of the mold.

The mold closes and a nozzle pipes in hot liquid rubber to apply it to the rolling surface of the wheels.

The rubber adheres to the nylon and solidifies.

They attach two wheels to a polypropylene hub for stable swiveling action.

A factory worker now inserts an extendable handle.

Then, working from the inside, she screws the handle to the luggage shell.

She reinforces the connection with a metal bracket, ensuring that the extendable handle will hold fast even when the load is heavy.

She plugs the wheels into their slots in the base of the luggage.

She secures them with screws.

This bag is now mobile with 360-degree swiveling action.

The next employee installs this water-resistant rubber piping.

It will seal the bag and keep the rain out.

She presses it onto the edge of one of the shells.

She attaches brackets for hanging dividers to the other shell.

She snaps three side-locks and one central combination lock onto the bag.

She screws down the hanging divider brackets.

The fabric liner, with its zippered pockets, goes in next.

The elastic dividers extend from it to attach to the brackets.

It's time for the tumble test.

A technician places the luggage in a rolling steel drum, and it bounces around.

They conduct this test on a random bag every now and then to confirm that the luggage will bear up to rough handling.

And with that, these bags are ready for a vacation.


Mountain Bike Suspensions
Surgical Sutures
Grain Dryers
Frying Pans

Mountain bike suspension forks were developed in the early 1990s.

Like shock absorbers on a car, these forks expand and contract, absorbing the impact of rough terrain.

They also provide traction, which adds both comfort and control to an offroad ride.

There are plenty of jumps and bumps on an offroad trail.

A suspension fork ensures a cushioned landing.

They start by making the adjustment knob for the compression mechanism.

Computerized tools carve an aluminum bar into a round shape with grooves for better gripping.

Then, they add a protective black coating.

A worker inserts a tension bar into a quick-release lever.

The lever allows the rider to detach the wheel from the suspension fork.

He presses a fastener into the lever to secure it to the bar.

He lubricates the tension bar with grease.

Then, he inserts the bar into the wheel axle, joining it to the lever.

A steel pin holds them together.

An employee places the inner fork upside-down in a hydraulic press.

He inserts the steering tube in the center hole and activates the press.

Then, he lubricates one of the tubular legs and the upper part of an air spring.

He pushes the part through the bottom of the leg.

It slides to the top, where he installs an adjustment knob.

He inserts the lower part of the air spring into the leg.

The air spring allows the suspension to move up and down.

He snaps a collar on the end to lock the air spring in place.

The damper is next.

It's a piston and oil-compression mechanism that absorbs energy.

He pushes it into the second leg of the fork.

He screws a threaded collar and valve into the top of the damper leg.

He adjusts the damper's position.

He adds oil to the damper, using a fill sleeve to prevent spills.

He pushes a rod through the damper to get rid of any air.

Once the damper is full of oil and air-free, he installs the top cap and seals it with a gasket.

He screws a base ring onto the gasket.

Then, he installs the compression knob we saw machined earlier.

The knob allows the rider to adjust the compression of the oil.

With the inner fork complete, they now move on to the outer fork.

An employee inserts bushings in the tubular legs and activates a two-pronged press.

The press pushes bushings securely into the cavities.

He secures the inner fork in a jig upside-down and slides the outer fork onto it.

He lubricates the spaces between the inner and outer forks.

After bolting the suspension forks together, he increases the air pressure in the spring and caps the air-fill valve.

Now, for testing.

A motor moves the fork up and down, simulating a bumpy ride.

A computer monitors the suspension fork's performance.

After passing the test, a worker applies brand decals to the fork.

Finally, he slides the axle into the lower part of the fork and secures it.

This mountain bike suspension fork is complete.

Now, a technician fits it to the front of a bike.

He attaches the handlebar to the steering tube with a nut and a long screw.

Next, he attaches the wheel to the fork with the axle.

It takes just two hours to make a mountain bike suspension fork...

But they're strong enough to last through many more hours on long, bumpy mountain trails.

Humans have been performing surgery for over 7,000 years, but the use of surgical sutures is fairly recent.

Ancient greek surgeons were thought to be the first.

They used gut strings to mend the wounds of gladiators over 2,000 years ago.

Today's medical sutures come in different forms, such as synthetic monofilament threads, natural collagen fibers, or braided synthetic threads.

A technician sets a tension meter to check the quality of the raw materials.

The machine applies tension on the knot to measure the force needed to break it.

A worker tests the material's absorption process in a heated bath.

This simulates the temperature and moisture of the human body.

A technician enters the product's medical specifications and prints out a batch of labels.

Then, a supervisor selects needles and places them on a table.

He retrieves spools of thread from a refrigerated room.

To preserve the thread, it's been stored in sealed containers.

The supervisor gathers all the materials and brings them to the material preparation department.

The supplies are passed through an air lock to maintain the department's positive-pressure environment.

On the other side, a technician opens the airtight foil and removes the thread spool.

She threads the spool in a custom-made winding and cutting machine.

The technician sets the mechanical thread counter back to zero and starts the winder.

It can wind threads that are up to 100 inches.

The counter tracks the number of windings as the machine unspools the thread.

The machine stops automatically once the winding is complete.

The technician applies medical-grade glue to stiffen the ends of the braided threads before cutting them.

She places a guide to hold the threads in place while she cuts them along the glue line.

Sutures use needles of various shapes and sizes, the smallest ones being 10 millimeters in length.

On the main production floor, dozens of workers attach needles to the threads.

They make sure the attachment meets the suture's requirements.

The operator inserts the glue-hardened end of the thread into the back of the needle and crimps it tight with a mechanical swaging machine.

Then, she hooks the needle into a pull tester to check the strength of each attachment.

Finally, workers wind the assembled sutures into folded holding cards, tucking the needles in for protection.

A worker inserts the holding card in a labeled foil pouch.

Then, he slips it in a second package made of medical paper and polypropylene film and feeds it into a continuous rotary sealer.

The sealed packages drop into a production holding basket.

The finished product is sent for terminal sterilizing.

A worker places the basket into an ethylene oxide, or eo, gas sterilization bag.

She attaches a biological indicator vial and a control strip on a sterilization control card and puts the card inside the bag.

She adds an eo gas delayed- release canister in the bag and places the sealed bag into the sterilizer.

Sutures can be used for a variety of procedures, but each product has a very precise application.

Harvested grains must be dried before they can be stored.

Otherwise, they'll spoil.

Farmers can outsource this work to someone else for a hefty fee, or they can choose to keep everything on the farm by investing in a grain dryer.

To use a grain dryer, the farmer simply dumps their harvest into a fold-down loading hopper.

Once the bin is full, he or she starts the dryer's power unit.

A central auger circulates the grain inside the bin as a fan blows in hot air, drying the grain.

Most of the grain dryer's components are made out of steel tubing.

Workers cut the tubes to the various required lengths.

Once all the pieces are cut, workers position them on an assembly jig.

Here, they're assembling the dryer's mainframe.

Once all the parts are laid out, workers lock the pieces in place and weld them together.

They assemble what's called the spider on a different assembly jig.

The spider supports the dryer's plenum chamber, the component at the center of the bin that distributes the hot air.

Workers bolt the spider to the mainframe and move the unit to the paint area.

They clean and prime the steel, then, coat it with corrosion-resistant paint.

It takes 24 to 32 hours for the paint to dry.

At that point, workers mount the agitator to the spider.

The agitator prevents wet grain from sticking to the bin wall.

They mount the agitator's main drive chain to the main gear and gearbox drive.

Meanwhile, a plasma torch cuts sheets of perforated galvanized steel for the bin.

These pieces will form the circular bottom.

A press punches holes along the edges of each sheet.

Workers connect the sheets together and bolt them onto a ring called the transition band at the top of the mainframe.

Then, they lower the spider and bolt it to the transition band.

They bolt the plenum chamber to the spider.

The chamber is made of perforated galvanized steel sheets.

Hot air blown into the chamber by the power unit exits through the perforations, drying the circulating grain.

Next, they assemble the bin's outside wall.

They bolt perforated galvanized steel sheets together, as well as to the transition band on the mainframe.

The sheets enclose the plenum chamber at the center and vent the dry air through the perforations.

Workers mount the power unit to the mainframe.

The unit, consisting of a burner and fan, blows hot air into the plenum chamber.

In another part of the factory, they build the loading hopper on an assembly jig.

After welding the parts together, they clean, prime, and paint the steel; install the auger that moves the grain; then, a cover the farmer can adjust to regulate the flow.

He also adds a protective screen, for safety.

Then, they attach the finished loading hopper to the dryer's mainframe.

It connects via a pivoting hinge on the front of the loading tube.

The hinge lets the farmer fold the hopper up and out of the way when it's not in use.

Workers install springs to make it easier to lower and raise the 60-pound hopper.

They also install a latch, which secures the hopper against the bin during storage or transport.

The grain dryer rolls on wheels attached to axles bolted to the mainframe.

The last step is installing a ladder on the outside of the bin.

This provides access to the top of the grain dryer for monitoring operation and maintenance.

Frying pans were first used by the ancient greeks and romans over 2,000 years ago.

These wide and shallow pans can be used to sauté, sear, or fry food.

Water released from the food during cooking creates that sizzling sound.

The shape of the pan allows steam to dissipate, giving food a crispy finish.

A good nonstick frying pan is a must in the kitchen.

A frying pan can be made of any heat-conductive metal.

In this case, aluminum alloy ingots.

They melt the ingots.

A robotic ladle scoops up molten aluminum to be used for casting.

They use this two-part die to transform liquid aluminum into a frying pan.

The robotic ladle pours the aluminum into the die through a cylindrical port.

This high-pressure casting produces a very precise shape.

After about a minute, an operator takes it out.

They cut off the excess using a computerized tool.

The table moves as the tool cuts the edge of the pan to specifications.

A worker sands the edges and rounds the rim of the pan a little more.

They cast pans in several sizes and thicknesses.

An employee keeps a detailed inventory of the pans.

Next, they put the pans in a sand-blasting chamber.

The sand blaster cleans off oil and residue.

It also roughens up the surface of the pans to prepare them for coating.

An employee scrubs off the sand using an abrasive pad.

Next, the pans receive their ceramic coating.

Each pan spins on a pod as a plasma flame melts three different powders onto it.

The coating protects the pan from corrosion.

An employee scrubs each pan with an abrasive pad to remove the residue.

This time, the frying pan spins slowly as torches heat them to approximately 175°.

This preheat preps the pans for the final coatings.

They prepare up to five proprietary coating formulations for each frying pan model.

Each one contains dozens of chemicals and thousands of tiny diamond particles.

The diamonds increase durability and heat conductivity.

They also make food less likely to stick to the surface of the pan.

The final coating contains a nonstick chemical known as ptfe.

They spray the different coatings onto the surface.

The spinning ensures even coverage as the coatings adhere to the hot pans.

Now, a primer is applied.

It allows the final nonstick coating to bond to the frying pan.

At the end of the line, an employee inspects the finish and sprays a little more of the nonstick formula onto the handle fitting.

Then, the frying pans go through a furnace to bake the coatings onto the pans.

An employee checks the finish for bubbles, scratches, or color inconsistencies.

Once the pans have cooled, a robot transfers them to a lathe.

The lathe spins the pan as a tool shaves off a thin layer of aluminum.

This leaves a clean, level surface on the bottom of the pan.

A suctioning robot moves the frying pan to the next station, where a worker attaches a handle to the pan.

An automatic screwdriver secures it.

A technician heats one of the frying pans on a cooktop as a mechanical arm rubs the pan thousands of times with a coarse piece of sandpaper.

There are no scratches, so the entire batch of pans is approved.

Thousands of nonstick frying pans are ready to leave the factory and cook up a tasty meal.


Crayons
Wooden Kayaks
Lawnmowers
Gold Chains

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

Crayons...

Wooden kayaks...

Lawn mowers...

And gold chains.

Crayons are a popular drawing tool for today's young artists.

The average north american kid uses 730 of them by the age of 10.

An american chemical company invented crayons in 1903.

It took the basic wax crayon it already made for marking crates and barrels and came up with a nontoxic version in different colors.

These crayons are made from a combination of waxes-- primarily paraffin, which is ideal for making crayons because it's inexpensive and easy to melt.

It also has what's called a nice rub-off, meaning it leaves enough wax on the paper.

They melt the wax at 143 degrees fahrenheit.

Then add a secret powder to strengthen the crayon and act as a filler, boosting the number of crayons the wax will produce.

They also add various synthetic chemicals-- there's one to keep the wax from sticking to the mold...

And a fatty acid, called stearic acid, to improve the rub-off.

Now they tint the wax-- in this case, yellow and red to produce orange crayons.

This factory can produce 127 different colors.

Every ingredient in the crayons is nontoxic.

After adding more wax, they blend the mixture for about 45 minutes.

Now they pump the wax into this device called a rotary machine.

It first injects the wax into crayon-shaped molds.

Then it envelops the molds in cool water, hardening the wax within roughly a minute.

As the molds continue along the circuit, a blade scrapes off the excess, which gets recycled.

Just one rotary machine molds more than 2,700 crayons per cycle.

With several machines operating simultaneously, this factory churns out 30,000 crayons per hour.

The machine ejects the crayons, and a conveyor transports them to the labeling machine.

One by one, they drop into the grooves of a revolving drum.

At the bottom left, a gluer coats the surface in between the grooves just before the crayons go in.

The machine then slaps a label onto each crayon.

A roller presses the label against the adhesive, then a little arm wraps it around the crayon.

This machine labels 8,500 crayons per hour.

The crayons exit the labeling machine and land in a bulk box.

Workers sort the crayons by color into the appropriate hoppers of the packing machine.

The packaging line is entirely automated.

The factory programs the machine to collect a certain number of crayons in specific colors according to the type of pack in production.

Their best sellers are packs of 16 and 24.

The packing machine is designed to handle the crayons gently.

Occasionally, though, a crayon does crack or a label comes loose.

When that happens, a sensor automatically stops the machine and a light goes on above the problem hopper.

Workers clear the jam, then production resumes.

Once the count is complete, the crayon line and the box line meet.

A pushing device slides each set of crayons into a box.

A built-in scale weighs every box.

Should one be underweight, the machine automatically blows it off the conveyor belt.

A worker then manually adds the missing crayon, ensuring a full complement of colors for every budding artist.

For thousands of years, aboriginal people in the arctic have used kayaks to hunt and for good reason.

These slender vessels glide swiftly in the water and are light enough to carry.

High-tech materials make today's wooden kayaks more durable than ever, but its shape and performance in the water are basically the same.

It starts with plywood made from okoume-- a rugged type of mahogany.

A computer-guided routing machine cuts out the boat's various parts.

One has finger joints that interlock with another piece to make one long strip.

These panels will cover the sides of the vessel and most of the top.

The planks are so thin-- just a little over an eighth of an inch-- that the entire kayak will weigh only 37 1/2 pounds.

Then there are bulkheads, end panels, footrests, and curved pieces to support the deck and sides.

After applying two coats of epoxy resin, a craftsman assembles the parts and secures them in a jig for six hours until the glue sets.

The side panels will span the entire length of the boat, at just over 16 1/2 feet.

Assembling the kayak is pretty straightforward, so if you want to save money and do it yourself, you can buy this kayak cheaper as a kit.

He planes and sands the end panels to create a curved tip.

He drills small holes spaced 4 3/4 inches apart along the edges of the bottom panels.

Then he threads copper wire through the holes.

This stitches the panels together temporarily, keeping them flexible and thereby easy to assemble for gluing.

He places wooden pegs between the side panels to pry them open...

Then joins those panels with two screws in the front and two in the back.

At this stage, the kayak is upside down, so they add the bottom panels.

He attaches them with copper wire because it won't stick to the resin he'll use to glue these parts together.

After flipping the boat, he attaches a bulkhead with more wire.

It's one of two separators that create stowage compartments.

Using a putty knife as a gauge, he ensures the gaps at the seams are even, then he flips the boat and coats the seams in resin.

He lets it dry for 6 hours, just part of the 40 hours it takes to build the kayak.

Before the glue hardens, he makes sure the top of the boat is level.

This way, he can adjust the pieces if he needs to.

After removing the wire from the seams, he applies more resin to these areas.

Over this, strips of fiberglass cloth to form a watertight seal.

He'll also apply three more coats of resin throughout the inside of the kayak.

Once it dries, and he sands and varnishes the entire surface, the craftsman adds the footrest assembly.

This one's got pivot pads with cables that control a rudder to help steer the boat.

This is an optional feature.

Otherwise, there's a simple foot brace, and you just use your paddle.

Next, craftsmen apply resin along the kayak's upper rim.

They add the top panel to form the deck, then they wrap the entire boat in packing tape, which compresses the panels as the resin sets for 12 hours.

These pieces form a raised rim around where the kayaker sits.

A waterproof skirt fits under this rim, keeping the area dry in the water.

The deck gets two coats of resin.

An hour later, they spread fiberglass over the bottom to seal and protect the wood.

The bottom then gets three coats of resin.

Next, they spray on up to six coats of varnish, depending on the type of finish the boat will have.

This protects the wood from sun damage.

They add a foam backrest and a seat for your comfort on the trek.

And finally, flexible rubber straps-- they're for securing your paddle to the kayak.

Now it's off to the water.

Gardeners' jobs got much easier in 1830 with the invention of the first mechanical lawn mower.

Nowadays, most lawn mowers have electric motors or gas engines.

They turn blades that are either on a reel and cut like scissors or rotate like a propeller to chop the grass.

These gas mowers have rotary blades that spin horizontally on a vertical crankshaft.

To make the blade housing, which is called the deck, a machine first applies a lubricating chemical to sheet steel, which was coiled when it came to the factory.

The chemical helps flatten it so it's easier to cut.

A press then perforates the sheet every 2 feet.

After the press separates the segments and rounds off the corners, a robotic arm moves each segment onto a die.

A 500-ton press bends the steel like tinfoil between two molds to give the deck its basic shape.

A robot lifts the oily decks with suction cups and moves them to another press.

This machine trims away the excess around the deck's edges.

Another machine bends the sharp bottom lip inward to make the deck safer to handle.

The factory uses robots because they work faster than humans, processing 500 decks an hour.

After a thorough cleaning, the decks move into an electrostatic-paint booth.

They lace the powder paint with a negative electric charge, the decks with a positive one.

This draws the paint particles onto the decks, creating a thorough and even coat.

The factory's six paint booths are on tracks so when it's time to change color, workers can easily switch the entire chamber for a clean one.

The paint cures at 374 degrees fahrenheit for 15 minutes.

This press bends 8-foot-long tubing to form the mower's upper handle.

Another press bends 6-foot-long tubes to make a shorter, lower handle.

Workers will later attach the two handles to form one folding handle.

By folding, it takes up less space in the shipping box and, later, in your garage.

Here's the mower's 5-horsepower engine.

A worker attaches it to the deck with three bolts.

He uses a powerful torque gun so the bolts won't loosen because of vibrations.

Later, workers will mount the blades to the engine's crankshaft that protrudes through an opening in the deck.

Next, workers install a plastic rear door, through which the grass clippings eject.

This door attaches to brackets, which have levers that adjust the mower to nine different height positions.

It's time to mount the plastic rear wheels.

Next an adaptor to stabilize the blade on the crankshaft, then the blade.

It's wider at each end to create the proper airflow inside the deck.

They secure the blade tightly with a powerful wrench because it's going to spin at 3,300 rpm.

The front wheels are 1/3 smaller than the back ones.

This makes the mower easier to maneuver over uneven terrain.

They put rubber covers on the height-adjustment levers so they're softer on the fingers.

The mower adjusts from 1 inch to nearly 3 1/2 inches off the ground.

They secure the lower handle, then loosely attach the upper handle to the lower one.

The consumer can tighten this after shipping.

They add a safety handle that turns the engine off if you're not squeezing it against the upper handle.

It attaches to a caliper system, much like what you'd find on a bicycle.

Finally, workers apply labels to indicate the mower's horsepower and width.

Fill it up with gas, and it's ready to give your lawn a trim.

Some of the first gold chains date back to the ancient cultures of iraq and greece.

They were symbols of wealth, royalty, and the divine.

Lucky for us, jewelers now make these personal treasures more affordable and more durable than ever.

But you may be surprised to learn what they put in the gold to make it better.

Pure gold is fairly soft and bright yellow, so it's common to create an alloy to strengthen it and alter its color.

Copper lends a reddish hue.

And brass helps the alloy melt more quickly than gold and copper would alone.

Depending on the ratio, adding these metals produces 14- or 18-karat gold.

They melt the mix in a crucible at 1,850 degrees fahrenheit.

Just three of these scoops are enough to make about 5,000 14-karat-gold chains.

A worker pours the molten alloy into a casting machine.

Water cools the metal to around 700 degrees fahrenheit, solidifying it.

The metal passes through a round die which shapes it into a golden rod that's nearly 6 1/2 feet long.

After cutting the rod in half, workers pass it through what's called a breakdown mill.

The machine reshapes the rod from round to square so it will be easier to stretch.

Next stop-- a tandem mill.

It's got 12 rollers that stretch the rod until it's about as thin as a piece of spaghetti.

As it emerges, rollers shape the rod into a coil that's nearly 78 feet long.

Workers soften the coiled metal in an oven.

Then they uncoil and continue stretching what's now a wire by passing it through a die lined with industrial diamonds.

To prevent overheating, the machine sprays lubricant to cool the wire while reducing it to the width of a human hair-- its final size.

The wire then winds into a spool that's over 1 1/2 miles long.

Next, they unwind 32 of the spools and run the wires through another oven to soften them even more.

Just in case you're thinking about walking off with some of them, you should know that security is very tight.

Employees must pass through metal detectors before going home, and wearing jewelry to work is strictly forbidden.

This machine makes what's called cable chain.

It passes wire through a link and closes it to make another link.

The machine makes 600 links per minute.

Here, a worker does a random quality check.

This machine makes a chain in what's called a venetian style.

The wire passes through a channel where mechanical jaws bend it over a die to make a link with the preceding segment.

To make what's called a spider style, this machine passes a wire through up to five loops before closing the link.

For a figaro-style chain, this machine makes three short links before a mechanical arm moves the chain to another area to add one longer link.

The arm then moves it back to add three more short links.

The simplest style is what's called a rope chain.

To make it, this machine threads a wire through as many as two loops then closes it to make another loop.

They coat the finished chains with a lubricating powder that prevents the links from sticking to each other during the next step, when they heat the chains to 1,500 degrees fahrenheit.

This activates a soldering agent added to the metals earlier.

It fuses the ends of the links to each other.

This machine welds a link to a clasp on the chain.

A tag indicating the gold quality goes onto the clasp.

Finally, the chains go through four chemical baths, which thoroughly clean them, then workers plate them with a layer of 14- or 18-karat gold.

Plating gold with gold creates a more vibrant finish.

After one last quality check, these chains are ready to dazzle their way to a neckline near you.


Wood Burning Stoves
Orthoses
Ballet Slippers
Buses

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

Wood-burning stoves...

Orthoses...

Ballet slippers...

And buses.

Wood-burning stoves do more than create a cozy ambience.

They're also powerful enough to heat an entire house.

More and more people are installing a woodstove as an additional heat source in their home.

It's economical, and the new low-emission models are more environmentally friendly.

Every woodstove has a fire baffle-- a stainless-steel barrier above the burning wood that shields the top from the intense heat.

The baffle also slows down the smoke exiting by the chimney, which reduces the upward draft that the rising heat creates.

Production begins with large steel sheets that are 1/4 of an inch thick.

A computer-guided laser cuts out pieces that workers will shape into the various parts of the stove.

The laser slices through the metal quickly and with extreme precision.

And because it cuts with intense light rather than punching force, the pieces have neat, smooth edges.

Workers use a strong magnet to lift and transfer the pieces to the next production area.

The largest piece becomes the surround-- the part that forms the sides and back of the woodstove.

Workers use a machine called a press brake to shape it.

A computer guides this large hydraulic press to bend the flat steel in exactly the right spots.

Now they position the surround in an assembly jig to keep it steady during welding.

After welding the front of the stove to the surround, they weld the air intake, which allows oxygen to enter the stove to feed the fire.

Next they weld the top--  the fire baffle-- and air channels near the top, which are also designed to feed the fire with oxygen.

The quality of welding in a woodstove is critical because the joints have to be able to withstand extreme heat.

Now they weld the bottom of the stove.

It has a hole in the middle through which you sweep the embers to an ash pan below.

Now they weld the flue collar, the steel ring that attaches the stove to the flue pipe that leads to the chimney.

Workers now bolt the stove to a pedestal.

The pedestal is also made of welded steel.

Meanwhile, the door takes shape.

They glue a fiberglass rope to the perimeter of the doorframe using a silicone-based glue that's resistant to extreme temperatures.

This cord prevents air from seeping in through the door and fueling the fire out of control.

After installing the locking door handle, they weld the door hinges.

The stove's interior, where the wood burns, is known as the combustion chamber.

They line it with bricks to protect the walls from warping in the intense heat.

Bricks do deteriorate over time, but it's easy to replace them.

The last steel part they install is the cap for the ash pan.

Now an automated conveyer transfers the stove to the paint station, where a robotic arm sprays on a coat of heat-resistant paint.

Once the paint air-dries, a worker removes the door to install its glass panel.

This isn't your run-of-the-mill window glass.

It contains ceramic, which enables it to withstand temperatures up to almost 2,000 degrees fahrenheit.

With the glass panel in place, workers can apply decorative features and information stickers.

Then they put the door back on and lock it shut.

They rivet on the company logo...

Then install a fan in the back.

The fan blows out the heat that the stove generates.

When the wood-burning stove leaves the factory, its coat of paint is dry, but not yet cured.

The heat cures it when you fire up your stove for the first time.

Orthoses are devices such as arch supports and braces that address a joint or muscle problem in the back or extremities.

An orthosis can provide artificial support, prevent or correct a deformity, or improve how a weak or painful area functions.

You can buy an orthosis off the shelf or have one custom-made.

Producing a custom-made orthosis starts with a thorough examination.

A certified professional, called an orthotist, analyzes the problem area-- in the case of this patient, the feet.

After a few manual manipulations to test the range of motion and pinpoint weakness or pain, the orthotist uses various instruments to measure the angles of the different parts of the feet.

Then it's on to specialized devices that analyze foot position and movement during standing and walking and how body weight is distributed onto the feet.

In this scan, the red areas show that more weight is landing on the left foot than on the right.

Next, a 3-d impression in foam.

It goes to the production department, where technicians fill it with plaster.

Once it dries, they extract an exact model of both feet.

Now they can construct the orthosis piece by piece.

Most of the components are made of different types of polyurethane, a lightweight thermoplastic.

Each type is designed to produce a specific effect at a different phase of the patient's footstep.

For example, the blue base is made of rigid polyurethane that holds the foot in the correct position.

At the front, dense, black polyurethane helps propulsion and reduces stress on that side of the foot.

They cover the assembled orthosis with a sheet of glue and put it in a vacuum press.

The press applies heat to activate the adhesive.

It sucks out the air between the components and compresses them tightly together.

When the orthosis comes out, they place it on the model of the corresponding foot.

Then it goes into a different vacuum press to mold it to the shape.

They add made-to-measure corrective parts with latex foam.

Then, using hypoallergenic glue, line the orthosis with a soft polyurethane.

All that's left to do now is buff the orthosis.

This smoothes all the surfaces.

To ensure the orthosis fits correctly, the patient redoes the key tests while wearing it.

Remember that scan showing red areas?

They're gone now because the patient's feet now bear his body weight equally.

This patient has arrived with a doctor's prescription for a knee brace.

The orthotist analyzes his mobility, flection, and balance, then sends the technical specifications to the production department.

There, technicians make a model of the leg.

They begin by positioning the leg at a 12-degree angle and wrapping it in plaster bandages.

While waiting for the fast-set plaster to harden, the patient chooses a decorative pattern for the outside of the brace.

The hardened cast serves as a mold.

Technicians pour in plaster, let it harden, then remove the cast.

After smoothing the surface, they draw technical markings, then install the lightweight aluminum joints that will enable the orthosis to bend.

Now they run a sheet of plastic through an oven.

This is high-memory plastic, meaning that when you form it, it remembers the shape and maintains it.

The design the patient chose comes printed on transfer paper.

They use a laser thermometer to ensure the plastic is at the perfect temperature for the pigments to penetrate properly.

They carefully position the hot decorative plastic on the model.

Using a vacuum bag, they remove the air and press the plastic on tightly.

The plastic sets in about two minutes, maintaining the form.

They cut the required shape, line the inside, and sand the edges smooth.

Finally, they attach straps to fasten the orthosis to the leg.

The orthotist checks the fit on the patient, then runs various tests to make sure the orthosis is doing exactly what it's designed to do.

Ever wonder how ballerinas manage to dance on the tips of their toes?

It takes years of training, remarkable skill, and special ballet slippers.

These toe shoes are handmade in what's truly a manufacturing pas de deux-- a graceful pairing of traditional methods and modern materials.

They sew the toe shoe's exterior with three pieces of satin.

They cut those pieces using a press equipped with a metal die.

It slices through enough fabric at a time to make four pairs of shoes.

They also cut a pure cotton lining for each piece to protect the dancer's feet from irritation.

This v-shaped piece is called the vamp.

It'll become the front half of the shoe.

The seamstress extends the "v" by attaching the two other satin pieces, called the quarter panels.

They'll form the back half of the shoe.

She sews the ends of the "v" together, making a heel seam, which she reinforces with a rayon ribbon.

Then she feeds the same type of ribbon through a special machine that folds it in half over a drawstring.

She stitches it to the top perimeter of the shoe.

This encased drawstring will enable the dancer to pull the shoe tightly around her foot.

Now they put the satin upper onto a wooden form to check the sizing.

It's absolutely critical that the height of the vamp be correct to within 1/8 of an inch.

If it's even slightly off, the top of the shoe will cut into the dancer's foot.

The shoemaker nails the cotton lining to an insole on the bottom of the form.

The insole is made of rigid cardboard for support, imbued with plastic for flexibility.

After trimming off the excess, he glues the lining onto the insole, making neat little pleats.

Once the glue dries, he removes the nail and trims the excess pleating to eliminate any bumps that would irritate the foot.

Now they sculpt the toe box, the hard encasing inside the tip of the shoe.

It's made of papier-mâché, only instead of paper and paste, they use fabric and paste.

Then they soften up a piece of resin-coated cotton in water and apply it on top.

Next they saturate two pieces of burlap with paste and apply them, one after the other, over the cotton.

The paste is made of flour, water, starches, and a rubber-and-plastic-based resin that hardens to a semi-flexible state.

That's key, because the toe box has to be stiff enough to bear the dancer's full weight, yet flexible enough so that the ballerina can move fluidly.

Now the final layer of fabric--  a piece of pure cotton.

They wrap the toe box in plastic to keep the hammer clean as they square off the front, creating what's known as the platform.

Then they press the toe box onto a piece of marble to make it completely flat.

They verify that the platform is perfectly square.

If not, the ballerina will topple over.

After letting the toe box dry for 24 hours, they glue the lining over it with contact cement.

They trim off the excess, then glue the satin over the lining, forming delicate pleats.

They use lighter glue this time, because contact cement would stain the fabric.

They apply a foam filler to even out the shoe's underside, then coat it with high-strength vinyl glue.

They apply the same glue to a sole, then leave both to air dry.

24 hours later, they put them on a heater set to 200 degrees fahrenheit.

This reactivates the dried glue in about half a minute.

They apply the sole then put the shoe in a press for 15 seconds to solidify the bond.

Now they can remove the shoe from the form.

The sole is made of suede, a material that has just the right amount of grip.

It's nonslip, yet still enables the dancer to glide smoothly across the floor.

The last step is to glue in a white suede sockliner.

It cushions the ballerina's foot and keeps it from slipping forward when she's dancing on her toes.

A city's fleet of public transit vehicles might include standard buses, low-floor buses, or both.

Low-floor buses have a special kneeling feature.

When they pull up to the bus stop, they can mechanically lower themselves to curb height to make boarding easier for children, senior citizens, and handicapped people.

This low-floor bus is 40 feet long and can carry more than 80 passengers.

To build the bus's internal structure, workers put stainless-steel bars into a press.

It applies between 90 and 110 tons of pressure, bending them to the required shape.

Workers assemble the structural pieces on a support frame called an assembly jig.

They use an electronic inspection arm to verify their work.

Once they've assembled the roof structure and the side structures, they bring them together for welding.

Everything goes on a rotating jig.

It turns like a giant rotisserie, giving workers easy access to whatever part of the bus they need to weld.

When the welding is finished, they turn the bus right side up.

They put the structure on a dolly and release it from the jig so that they can move it down the production line.

Meanwhile, the stainless-steel structure for the floor of the bus takes shape.

Once that's complete, it's back onto the rotating assembly jig to weld it to the rest of the structure.

This bus factory uses stainless steel because it stands up well to corrosion.

Transit systems need to keep these buses running full-time for up to 20 years.

Less rusting means fewer expensive and time-consuming repairs.

Workers now move the completed structure to another part of the factory where they spray the underframe and lower section with a black, anti-abrasion coating.

This protects against the noise and damage that stones and other road debris cause when they hit the bottom of the bus.

Next, workers apply high-strength glue to the floor structure and lay down a subfloor.

Then they drive in screws for reinforcement.

Now they turn the bus upside down to install four tanks of compressed air under the roof.

Three are for the brake systems, the fourth for the doors and other mechanisms.

Melamine ceiling panels hide everything that's under the roof.

Next, the engine's radiator goes in at the rear of the bus.

Then workers turn the bus right side up again and lay down a waterproof vinyl floor covering that's specially designed to withstand heavy-duty transit use.

They cover the sides and roof with fiberglass panels.

To prevent corrosion, workers use glue rather than screws or rivets.

Then they attach the fiberglass front of the bus to the rest.

The bus's low-emission diesel engine arrives at the factory already assembled.

Workers attach it to the transmission and drive shaft in the engine compartment.

Buses without air-conditioning have sliding windows that open widely.

On air-conditioned buses, just a small top section opens.

The upholstery on the molded fiberglass seats is a velour-like fabric woven onto a strong canvas, then glued onto a fiberglass insert.

This construction makes it impossible for vandals to slash the seat with a knife.

Workers install the driver's seat, the steering wheel, and all the controls, including the toggle switch that activates the kneeling feature.

This bus also has a ramp for wheelchairs.

A safety system locks the accelerator pedal and applies the brakes to prevent the bus from moving when the ramp or kneeling feature are in operation.

The finished bus undergoes a half-hour water-infiltration test with all of the systems running.

This ensures there are no leaks.

At every phase of production, the factory does a quality-control inspection, checking everything from mechanical safety to finishings, right down to the tiniest of details.


Basque Pelota Balls
Pallet Trucks
Dumplings
Brass Faucets

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

Pelota is a ball game that originated in the basque region of france and spain.

Most versions are played against a wall, in which the player throws the ball either by hand, racket, bat, or basket.

Occasionally the game is played in teams, where players are separated by a net or a line on the ground.

Basque pelota balls come in different diameters and weights, according to the type of play for which they're designed.

But all of them have had the same basic construction for hundreds of years-- a core wrapped in rubber, wool, and leather.

To make the rubber wrapping, this machine deposits a line of natural rubber onto a paper strip.

Next a heating lamp softens the rubber to a formable consistency, while the machine applies a second paper strip on top.

This process sandwiches the rubber together.

Then two rollers compress the encased rubber into a flat strip.

Today, a pelota ball's core is typically made of plastic.

The size of the core varies according to the final diameter and weight of the ball.

The second machine removes the paper and wraps the rubber strip around the core, maintaining its perfectly round shape.

The machine stops wrapping when the ball reaches a specific diameter and weight.

Manufacturers place the rubber-wrapped core on a third machine, which wraps it in wool yarn, carefully maintaining a perfectly round shape.

The ball continues wrapping until the ball reaches a specific diameter and weight.

Now they prepare the ball's outer layer.

They take a piece of goatskin and trace a figure-8 pattern around it repeatedly.

Then the shapes are cut out with a utility knife.

The goatskins are soaked in water for a few minutes to make them supple.

Then they coat the yarn with liquid synthetic rubber...

Take two goatskins per ball...

And wrap them in opposite directions.

The skins are held in place temporarily with about a dozen tiny nails.

With strong synthetic thread, they sew the hides to each other.

The key is to pull the stitches tightly so that the ball inside is immobilized.

Once the sewing is complete, they remove the nails.

They apply their maker's mark with a felt pen.

Next the ball undergoes a size test, using the gauge that corresponds to the ball's intended diameter.

If the ball does not pass through the first hole but passes through the second, the diameter is correct.

The final step is to grease the leather with tallow-- purified fat from cows' kidneys.

One small glob evenly coats 20 or so balls after about 10 minutes in this specially designed machine.

The tallow nourishes and protects the leather.

No finished ball leaves the manufacturer without undergoing a bounce test.

Pelota balls used in regulation play must have a plastic core, whereas balls used strictly for recreation may have a core made of boxwood.

White pelota balls are designed for playing against a colored wall.

Balls designed for play against a white wall are dyed black prior to applying tallow.

Pelota is also played across a net or a line on the ground, the size of the ball varying with the version of the sport.

A pallet truck is a workhorse in the warehouse.

This electrically powered vehicle loads and unloads products from tractor-trailers and travels up and down aisles to deliver and retrieve products on low racks.

The driver stands on the truck's platform to steer and operate the forks.

Need a lift?

A pallet truck is small but mighty.

It can lift loads that weigh up to 8,000 pounds.

This computerized laser cuts out many of the pallet-truck parts from a sheet of steel, and the software ensures that there's minimal waste.

A technician inserts one of the parts in a brake press.

It folds the edges, creating flaps to form it into part of the vehicle battery box.

This is the part before and after bending.

At the next station, an operator clamps fork frames in a welding fixture.

He adds multiple steel supports at the base of the fork frames and along the sides.

They'll strengthen the structure and add balance to allow the forks to carry heavy loads.

As the fixture rotates, the robotic welder moves in and fuses the supports to the frames.

At the next station, the fully assembled battery box is lowered into place and positioned upside down.

Operators place the fork frames on top and lock them into place.

The fixture slants the parts towards the robot so that it can get into tight spots and weld them together.

They also weld together the structure that will house the transmission.

The parts plunge into a series of solutions.

The first baths remove grease and residue.

The final one preps the metal for a powder-coat finish.

Then a worker applies an electrostatic charge to powder particles.

The particles gravitate to the parts and form a powder coat on the surface.

The powder coat gives the parts a protective skin and a uniform sheen.

Next, technicians install a metal rack on the fork frames to help contain the truck cargo.

They clamp the assembly in a fixture that holds it sideways so that technicians can install pull rods in the base of the forks.

Powered by hydraulics, the rods will move the forks up and down when needed.

Powder-coated bright red, the truck structure is ready for the components.

A worker bolts swiveling caster wheels to the base.

Another worker then installs the steel arms that will link hydraulics to the pull rods.

Moving around to the back of the structure, she connects the arms to the hydraulic pistons.

She runs hoses from the hydraulic fluid reservoir to the pistons and torques the fittings.

Each structure is marked to indicate it's been torqued correctly.

A probe gauges the measurements of parts like this transmission bracket.

If the measurements are off, the part can't be properly assembled.

At another station, a technician bolts the drive tire to the transmission and motor assembly.

A crane lowers the drive assembly into the center hole of the pallet truck structure.

The worker secures the parts together with bolts.

Another worker then wires the motor to a controller.

He makes other connections to prepare the motor to be coupled to the battery.

Now it's time to marry the truck structure to the battery and fork assembly.

The worker links the pull rods to the hydraulic lift system using two bell cranks with thick pins.

Next a technician attaches metal blocks, leveling the forks to a specific height.

Thick cushioning at the back will give the future operator a comfortable surface to stand on.

A cover protects the transmission, motor, and the hydraulics.

This pallet truck is ready to get to work.

An l.e.d. light system guides the operator to place items on the pallet.

It both carries the load and tells you how to load.

Dumplings are a popular cuisine made by a variety of flavors from around the world.

They can be sweet or savory, steamed, boiled, baked, or fried.

In chinese cuisine, dumplings have been refined to an art form and are often eaten on special occasions like chinese new year.

To make a dumpling, you first wrap a thin layer of dough around a filling.

Dumplings can come in many different shapes.

These are filled with shrimp and pork.

Food-prep technicians at this facility peel, devein, and sort shrimp for different kinds of dumplings.

As they work, they double-check each shrimp for freshness and quality.

The 30 people working at this station can peel 10,000 shrimp per hour.

To make the dumpling dough, technicians begin the process by pouring all-purpose flour into this large mixing bowl.

They add water at a ratio of two parts flour to one part water.

A large dough hook mixes the two ingredients together.

Periodically, the technicians stop the machine to manually test the dough for consistency.

It's not ready yet.

After more mixing, they test it again.

This time, it's just right--  soft and still elastic.

To strengthen the dough structure, a worker begins folding and rolling it into lengths.

At the next station, food-prep technicians rip small chunks off the rolls.

Then they weigh the chunks to ensure they meet the parameter of just 0.28 ounces apiece.

Two additional technicians collect the chunks and follow a two-step process in which they stand each piece on its round end before flattening it.

They sprinkle the round disks with flour to keep them from sticking to each other when moved to the next station.

The next step uses traditional cooking tools to transform each disk into a wrapper for a dumpling known as shao mai.

The food-prep technicians wear protective clothing to prevent contamination.

In-house quality control inspectors test the airborne bacteria levels in the facility every month to ensure that it meets the necessary standards.

Creating the shao mai wrapper requires high levels of skill.

This worker's right hand rolls the dough while his left hand rotates the wrapper in perfectly coordinated movements, turning out wafer-thin rounds at high speed.

A second worker uses a different style of rolling pin to crimp the edges of the wrapping.

The technicians on the left use a wooden spatula to scoop a portion of filling into each wrapper before placing them on a scale to ensure the weight is correct.

Technicians on the right top off each dumpling with a shrimp.

Inserting the shrimp is another step that requires carefully orchestrated hand movements to accomplish the task with speed and elegance.

The worker is able to carefully tuck the shrimp into place with effortless movements of one hand.

Dumplings come in all shapes and sizes.

At another table, workers assemble a delicacy in the shape of a half-moon.

These dumplings start out with the same disk-shaped wrapper and the same shao mai filling.

Next, a worker uses a special crimping technique, pinching a series of small creases in the dough to seal them in a completely different way.

By carefully arranging each dumpling, technicians can fit nearly 88 of them in one pan.

Thanks to an amazing artisanal assembly line of skilled workers, the final product is almost too beautiful to eat.

Water faucets date back to at least 1700 bc.

Archaeologists discovered that the minoan palace at knossos, on the greek island of crete, had a plumbing system consisting of terra-cotta pipes, providing water to faucets made of gold and silver.

Today's water faucets are typically made of cast brass plated with another type of metal.

This single-handle faucet is most commonly seen in a bathroom and is chrome-plated.

This factory uses steel molds to produce sand molds for casting the brass components.

The sand mold is actually a sand model of the brass part, only slightly smaller.

Workers file off the excess sand, which hardened inside the channels consuming the entirety of the steel mold cavity.

In the casting area, technicians load brass ingots into the furnace, which stands next to an automated casting machine.

The furnace heats the solid metal at a temperature of nearly 2,000 degrees fahrenheit, causing the metal to melt.

Technicians place the sand mold inside a two-part steel mold.

The inner cavity is in the shape of the faucet part, only slightly larger.

The molten brass will flow into the gap between the sand mold and the steel mold cavity.

The casting machine positions the mold over the furnace and lowers the mold into a tube, which injects molten brass into the cavity.

20 seconds later, the steel mold opens, and technicians extract the castings and set them aside to cool.

Then the parts are placed into a shotblasting machine, which removes all the sand.

Next, a worker saws off the excess brass that solidified in the channels of the steel mold.

This separates two faucet bodies that were cast together.

At the next station, a press forces the part into another machine, trimming off seams and jagged edges.

Each faucet body is placed on three consecutive computer-guided machines.

One machine cuts threads in the spout hole for the screw-in aerator.

The other cuts threads in the hole on top for the screw-in cap that retains the cartridge.

The third cuts threads in the installation hole on the bottom.

A robotic machine polishes the entire surface of the part against three separate sanding belts.

The first belt is a course grit-- the second, a medium grit--  the third, a fine grit.

This preps the brass for plating.

These large automated electroplating tanks coat the parts with two layers of nickel, then a layer of chrome.

In the assembly area, engineers press a nylon-and-ceramic disk through the top hole of the faucet body.

The disk has brass threads for the screw-in hot and cold water hoses.

They attach an anti-leak seal on the bottom and screw the aerator into the threaded spout hold.

The aerator separates the water flow into tiny streams mixed with air, reducing the flow, which prevents splashing.

They insert a nylon-ceramic cartridge in the top hole, securing it with a retaining cap hidden by a chrome ring.

The cartridge is the valve which opens and closes the faucet and mixes the hot and cold water.

They thread the screw for installing the faucet on the sink.

Then they screw the rubber-and-steel water hoses into the brass threads of the disk.

The factory runs every single faucet it produces through a water test.

Engineers manipulate the still-exposed cartridge to check all functions-- turn on, hot/cold water mixing, and shut off.

If the faucet passes inspection, they attach the handle with a small screw.

They hide the screw with a cover, then apply a sticker reminding the consumer to periodically clean the aerator.

They package the faucet with a pop-up drain stopper and a p-trap set.

The pvc piping retains a small amount of water as a barrier to prevent sewer gases from backing up into the bathroom.


Surgical instruments have evolved with the science of medicine.

They actually date back thousands of years, when primitive man used crude implements to cut holes in skulls to release evil spirits.

Medical science has come a long way since then, and today's surgical tools are among its advancements.

In the hands of a skilled surgeon, the right tool can be a lifesaver.

There are now hundreds to choose from, each designed for a specific task or operation.

Made of surgical-grade steel-- which is extremely corrosion-resistant-- they can withstand frequent cleaning and sterilizing.

One of the more useful tools is a self-retaining retractor, which is used to pull back tissues or organs during surgery.

Using a circular cutter, they round the profile of the tool's joint.

This round joint allows the tool to open when the shanks are shut, the opposite of a pair of scissors.

Next, cutters carve slots in two parts to create the retractor's intermeshing jaws.

These jaws will be used to grasp and retract body tissue so the surgeon can operate.

A technician sands the teeth down to a precise size.

He must be accurate within a quarter of a millimeter.

He then smoothes the jaw's teeth against a fine-grit wheel so they'll easily intermesh when needed.

He rounds the tips of the teeth to make them blunt so they won't damage human tissue.

He hammers back the tips of the teeth, giving them a claw-like profile.

With the teeth now complete, attention returns to the round joint of the instrument.

The carved slots and counter-sync allow the two sides to fit together perfectly.

They install a part called the rack, below the joint, and file teeth into it.

It will be used to lock the tool in an open position.

After heat treatment, a worker sands all the tool components to smooth sharp edges.

Vibrating porcelain chips and polishing compound scrub them clean and remove burrs caused by machining.

Next, they install the pivot screw and trigger for the rack.

By pressing it, the surgeon can open the prongs to the desired width and lock the tool in position.

Production now moves to the surgical clamp.

It's used to block the flow of blood during operations and has a more scissors-like joint-- rectangular instead of round.

Mechanized cutters carve the joint and catches.

A worker forces the finger bows against a spinning grinding wheel to remove surface imperfections.

Precision is again critical, as the worker grinds each of the tool's shanks to the correct thickness.

He measures to confirm that the size is consistent along the length of the part.

He then files the joints so they mate perfectly.

He places the joint part of one of the shanks over hot coals to soften the metal and make it malleable.

Then he forces a spike through a slit in the joint, and the now-compliant steel stretches to open the slit.

The other shank now slides easily into the opening.

He hammers the joint to close the opening, and the two arms of this surgical clamp are now hinged together.

Next he files the teeth of the clamp so they'll interlock when the tool is closed.

He bends the two ends around a tool to form the jaws of the clamp.

These curved jaws will come in handy when the surgeon needs to reach around organs or bone.

Next, using a variety of tools, he adjusts the shanks and the finger bows to give them a more ergonomic feel.

This is called soft-setting because at this point, the metal is still soft enough to be manipulated.

He tweaks the bend of the jaws until he's satisfied with the curvature.

He smoothes the inside of the finger bows with a fine abrasive belt.

After heat treatment to strengthen the metal, they blast it with fine glass particles to give it a satin finish.

They laser-etch the company name and identifying numbers onto the surgical clamp.

The numbers will allow the tool to be traced back to a particular production run.

And now it's ready to take its place on the front lines of healthcare.

Ketchup has a questionable past.

According to one theory, it comes from the chinese "kê-chiap," a type of sauce.

Another theory traces it to european pickling sauces, and yet another claims arabic origins.

But there's widespread agreement on where it ends up-- on hot dogs, hamburgers, and french fries.

Tomato ketchup recipes vary only slightly, as consumers expect a certain familiar tomatoey taste.

This u.s. company produces all-natural ketchup made entirely of certified organic ingredients-- tomato paste, agave nectar--  a natural sweetener-- onion powder, spices, salt, and white vinegar.

The tomato paste, not surprisingly, is the base ingredient.

It arrives at the plant in huge bins, which have been vacuum-packed to preserve freshness.

After unsealing each bin, the factory's quality-control technician scoops a sample for testing.

This is to make sure that the thickness is just right.

If the sample gets the okay, workers slide the bin under a powerful air-driven pump.

Then they flip a switch, and the pump begins moving the tomato paste to a large holding tank, transferring nearly 310 pounds of this ketchup base in less than 10 minutes.

At production time, an intricate system of piping transfers a specific amount of tomato paste from the holding tank into a cooking kettle.

As the paste cooks, a mixer continuously revolves to keep it from sticking to the sides and to blend in the onion powder workers add next.

This and the upcoming ingredients have been pre-measured to be in correct proportion to the batch size.

The next ingredients are salt, then, as a sugar replacement, nectar from the agave plant.

They pour in an initial amount, mix a bit, then pump in the remainder.

The last ingredient is white vinegar.

For competitive reasons, the company won't divulge the mixing time, cooking time, or cooking temperature, all of which are key elements of this top-secret recipe.

On the packaging line, an alignment machine stands the plastic bottles upright as they make their way to the filling machine.

The finished ketchup, meanwhile, is passing through an elaborate system of cooling pipes en route to the filler.

And let the bottling begin.

The machine fills eight bottles at a time...

150 bottles per minute.

The factory tests every batch of ketchup it produces to ensure the correct consistency in every bottle.

The next machine, appropriately called the capper, places a plastic flip-cap on each bottle, then, with spinning circular belts, twists it on securely.

The next machine cuts a decorative neck band made of plastic film and slips it over the cap.

Each bottle then passes under an air jet.

The air blows the neck band downward until it's positioned under the cap.

Then a quick blast of hot steam shrinks the band to a tight fit.

The next machine presses on two adhesive labels-- one on the front of the bottle, the other on the back.

Then it's off to the packing-and-shipping area.

A sealed bottle of ketchup stays fresh for at least a year because the vinegar in it acts as a natural preservative.

Ketchup also has health benefits because it's chock full of tomatoes, which are high in lycopene--  a powerful antioxidant believed to protect against many types of cancer.

Double-decker buses have long been a fixture on the streets of london, england.

A typical double-decker carries 60% more riders than a regular bus.

And though quintessentially british, nowadays you'll find london style double-deckers on the streets of several major cities throughout the world.

Every bus design undergoes rigorous stability testing.

They fill the prototype with lead weights to simulate a full passenger load, then tips the bus to a 28-degree angle, the side wheels lifting about shoulder height off the ground.

If the vehicle doesn't keel over, the design passes the test.

The bus's underframe--  the chassis-- is made of welded steel.

They construct it in three separate modules-- front, center, and rear-- then set the three modules in an alignment jig to be welded together.

Once that's done, welders add a steel structure that'll support the floors, seats, and body panels.

Then they clean the chassis and paint it with anti-rust epoxy.

After baking on the paint, they seal the gaps between the welded parts with polyurethane.

This prevents water penetration, which would cause internal corrosion.

Meanwhile, technicians bolt the 6-cylinder, 250-horsepower engine to the automatic transmission and connect the hydraulic lines and other piping.

Then they wheel this engine pack over to the assembly line and bolt it to a bar at the rear of the chassis.

By suspending the engine, they shield it from impact damage in the event of a rear-end collision.

They also install the radiator, battery, and other components.

At the front of the chassis, they install the driver's binnacle-- on which all the controls are located.

Unlike a stationary car dashboard, for driver comfort, the binnacle tilts with the steering column.

After installing the front and rear axles, technicians mount the wheels.

Each one is more than a yard in diameter and weighs 100 pounds.

The engineering specs require the wheel nuts to be turned to a specific tightness.

Workers also install the driver's seat and the vehicle's 73-gallon gas tank.

The complete chassis goes onto a test-drive machine which simulates varying passenger loads and road conditions.

A camera pointed at the binnacle records the accuracy of the speedometer and whether any warning lights illuminate.

Then it's in to the body shop, where workers mount fiberglass boxes over the wheels.

Another team builds the inter-deck floor, the aluminum-frame structure that separates the bus's two levels.

They affix the lower level's melamine ceiling to one side and the upper deck's plywood floor to the other.

To make the roof, they construct an aluminum frame then glue an aluminum sheet onto it.

Most of the bus's body is made of aluminum because, compared to other metals, it's lightweight, durable, and easy to repair.

Next, they paint the roof and install components integrated within it, such as the aerial antenna and wires for lighting.

As this computer animation illustrates, step by step, the bus is slowly taking shape.

Workers insert the pegs underneath the roof into aluminum pillars running the perimeter of the upper deck.

Along the sides, workers sandwich the structural frame between inner and outer aluminum body panels.

First, they affix the inner ones, then they fill the spaces in between with blocks of foam insulation.

Finally, they glue on the outer side panels, pressing out the excess adhesive with a roller so that the panel lays flat.

The front and back of the bus are made of molded fiberglass.

They have openings for windows, and in the back, a cut-out beneath the top window for the upper-deck air-conditioner.

As one crew glues all the window glass into place, others install the doors and, inside, the upholstered seats and a durable non-slip floor covering.

Once the bus comes back from the paint shop, the factory's quality-control department inspects the interior.

The seat fabric is dark and patterned to discourage graffiti.

The bus also has 12 cameras hidden in various locations to deter vandalism.

The typical double-decker is 11 yards long and nearly 15 feet high.

It carries up to 92 passengers.

When you need something to lean on, a walking stick can provide the necessary support.

Wooden walking sticks have been coming in handy since primitive times.

The first versions were likely crude branches, but they've evolved into something much finer.

Today's wooden walking sticks are designed to support the user in style.

There are rustic versions for the outdoor adventurer and distinguished-looking ones for getting around town.

But, whatever the style, a walking stick adds stability to the human journey.

It all begins with these 3-year-old saplings.

These are chestnut--  a lightweight and durable wood.

Once the sticks have been peeled and dried, it's into the washing machine to scrub off any dirt or mold that may have accumulated.

And it's not your usual washing machine-- this one is a long tank sized specifically for these sticks.

A worker closes the lid tightly so no sticks will spill out as the tank rotates in a trough of soapy water.

After a few minutes of tossing about, these sticks come out squeaky-clean, and they're ready for the steamer.

The sticks are steamed for 20 minutes, and this makes them soft enough to bend.

So next, he secures the stick and activates a spring-loaded arm.

It wraps one end around a form to curl it into a crook.

He ties it so it holds the crook shape and retracts the bending arm.

This crook will serve as the walking stick's handle.

A century ago, crooks were formed entirely by hand, which took brute strength.

But with the invention of this nifty machine, the job became a whole lot easier.

Next, it's over to a device called the straightening horse, because it's used to straighten the stick's shaft.

This job does take a bit of muscle, as the worker wrenches the shaft between posts to set it straight.

With the shaft now quite linear and the end curled into a crook and still tied, it's time to set the shape of this walking stick.

And so it's in to the drying room for a couple of days.

The temperature in here is around 175 degrees fahrenheit.

And as the sticks dry, the shape solidifies.

A worker then cuts the stick to the correct length, and he also pares down the end to prepare it for capping later.

He also sands down the knots in the wood, creating a smoother surface.

From a simple sapling to a cane shape, it's quite a transformation.

And it's not over.

The next worker exposes the wood to a flame, just long enough to blacken it.

This is staining without the chemicals, and the finish is distinctive.

He now turns the walking stick against a very sharp circular blade to carve spirals on the crook and down the shaft.

It's a candy-cane look, and achieving it is a bit tricky.

This is where on-the-job experience counts.

Another worker then trims the end of the handle crook.

The cutoffs won't go to waste-- they'll help fire the factory furnace.

Next, a worker inserts the crook in a machine that works like a pencil sharpener, except the blade inside rounds the end.

This process is called "nosing the stick".

The stick that started out as a peeled sapling now looks dramatically different.

Next, a dip in water-based lacquer gives this walking stick a high gloss.

They hang it to drip-dry for an hour, after which the walking stick is ready for the end cap, or ferrule.

Ferrules come in a variety of styles.

There are blunt ones, for a good grip on indoor surfaces, and there are pointed ferrules, for navigating rougher, outdoor terrain.

After hammering the ferrule onto the stick, he drives a nail through it to secure it.

And these walking sticks are now complete.

All that's left is to hang around until the orders come in.

And those orders are usually very specific.

Customers get to choose the length of stick that's appropriate for their height, as well as the style and finish they prefer.

From a simple stick to a dignified-looking cane, it's been quite a journey.

The path ahead may be uncertain, but with one of these walking sticks in hand, a person is well-equipped to make his or her way in the world.


Skeletal Replicas
Ice Buckets & Servers
Dining Chairs
Inground Pools

Skeletal replicas are excellent educational tools.

While real bones are fragile, these reproductions are made of a synthetic resin, which is very tough.

These models are scientifically accurate and can withstand repeated handling in classrooms or museums.

This facility is dedicated to producing skeletal replicas...

Everything from ancient humans to prehistoric animals.

Cast from real skeletons, these models are virtually indistinguishable from the original.

The process starts with a real skull.

This one is of a prehistoric sabertooth cat.

Using a wire cutter, a worker slices up blocks of clay, placing the pieces on the skull.

He presses the clay evenly around the skull.

He soaks a sponge and uses it to moisten and smooth the clay.

He inserts a plastic tube that will come in handy later.

Now, he saturates strips of fiberglass with a polyester resin and drapes them around the clay.

Left overnight, the fiberglass and resin cure into a rigid shell around the clay.

He repeats this process to create a second, identical fiberglass shell.

With the skull and clay in the bottom half, he bolts the second shell on top.

He pours silicone into the plastic tube, filling the space between the skull and the top fiberglass shell.

After repeating this process on the other side, he opens the shell.

He removes the skull and examines the two-part silicone mold.

He places the two-part mold back into the fiberglass shell and straps it to a spinner.

He pours polyurethane resin into the mold.

At just over a pound, the weight matches the original skull.

The spinner spirals at a controlled speed, evenly distributing the resin throughout the mold.

After the resin has solidified, he removes a replica skull from the mold.

The specially formulated resin has the look and texture of bone.

The craftsman scrapes away the ragged bits.

This part is the jaw.

Using a special grinding tool, he cleans up the surface and does a bit of contour work.

With a sharper tool, he better defines the area around the teeth.

Then he grinds the rough bits away from the cheekbone.

This is the jaw before and after the improvements.

Now it's over to the paint department, where a worker airbrushes the skull using acrylic paint.

He layers shades of brown, black, and red to make this replica look more authentic.

He inserts the saber teeth in the upper part of the skull and drills little holes in both of them.

He pushes nails into the holes to secure the teeth in the sockets.

An inspector now scrutinizes the skull and compares it to the original one on the left.

Just like the real sabertooth cat skull, it looks ancient.

It's difficult to tell the difference between the 12,000-year-old skull and the new one.

The skull is now ready for the rest of the skeleton body.

It takes five people three weeks to build a skeletal replica like this one.

The roman emperor nero is believed to have been the first to chill wine in containers of ice.

Despite the convenience of modern refrigerators, ice buckets and servers are still used today.

They add presentation value to any occasion, whether the host is on a champagne or a beer budget.

This ice server's simple design drains melted ice, so food stays cold without getting wet.

An automatic guillotine blade chops large sheets of high-grade stainless steel into rectangles.

A worker takes each rectangle to a punch press.

The press cuts a pattern of holes into the steel.

The pattern is geometric and will drain melting ice efficiently.

Next, it's over to a deep-drawing press.

It uses 110 tons of force to transform the rectangle into a pie-style plate.

A punch cutter removes the excess steel from the rim.

The worker now has a perforated ice tray.

He transfers it to another punch press, which cuts finger holes for lifting it from the base.

The next worker places a larger steel rectangle into a different press.

This will shape the bowl the ice tray rests in.

He returns to the tray and buffs the rim to a mirror finish.

After polishing the outside of the bowl to a high gloss, he welds two screws to the bottom.

With the screws firmly in place, he connects the two steel legs to the bowl.

He attaches a steel platform to the other end of the legs.

This ice server is complete and ready to chill.

But before they uncork the champagne, they need an ice bucket.

The bucket starts with a pre-cut steel disk.

An employee places the disk in a more powerful press.

It uses 165 tons of force to transform the disk into a basic bucket shape.

Next, another press applies over 175 tons of force to deepen the bucket and reduce the diameter.

Stretching the flat disk twice has made the metal fragile, so it's exposed to induction coils that are heated to over 1,800 degrees.

After cooling, the steel's strength is restored, and it's ready to be shaped again.

The final press gives the ice bucket a cone-like shape.

The ice bucket spins on a table that moves through six different polishing stations.

The brushes at each stop are progressively thinner, and this gradual polishing gives the stainless steel bucket a high sheen.

With the help of a template, the worker welds handles to the steel bucket.

Then the bucket is set upside-down on a revolving table.

A pressurized sprayer shoots fine mineral particles to give the interior a smooth finish.

This is the result.

A filler head now dispenses acid and then plunges into it and applies an electrical current.

This removes the surface metal, resulting in a brilliant finish.

After the acid has washed off, a worker inserts a perforated plate for drainage.

This ice bucket is now ready for a party.

It's not enough for a dining chair to look inviting.

It also has to be comfortable and sturdy.

The secret to manufacturing a quality dining chair is to use hardwood and traditional furniture construction techniques.

This company makes dining chairs out of hardwoods, such as birch, walnut, oak, and ash.

They dry the wood until its moisture content is 7%, so the chair size stays consistent after construction.

First, workers stand planks of wood on a conveyor belt to apply glue.

Then they align the planks' glued edges...

And clamp them tightly together in a heated press.

After a few hours of heat and pressure, the glue is dry, and they release the press.

The planks now form a large panel from which to cut the chair parts.

A computer-guided band saw cuts the preliminary shape.

These are chair legs.

The next machine, the profiler, finalizes the shape and sands the wood surface on all sides.

Workers now mount the parts on another computer-guided machine.

This one drills slots called mortises.

These mortises will receive pins called tenons protruding from adjoining parts.

Before assembly, workers sand all the parts so they can be stained later.

To make a curved chair back, they have to bend the wood.

They need the wood to have a 15% to 22% moisture content.

Any drier, and the fibers would snap when bent.

They steam the wood for an hour to soften it and make it more flexible.

They place the steamed wood in a curved mold on a press.

Then they dry it with a device that generates heat using radio frequencies.

After about an hour, they release the press and remove the wood.

The moisture content is now 7%, which maintains the curve shape.

Parts that need tenons go into this automated machine.

Its rotary knife shapes the tenon in about one second.

Workers glue the mortises in the two vertical sides of the chair back, then brush glue onto the tenons of the chair back's horizontal pieces.

They align the tenons and the mortises and secure them in place with a mallet.

They put the chair back into a press to force the tenons in place.

They reinforce each mortise-and-tenon joint with staples designed for wood.

They continue to assemble the chair parts with mortise and tenon joints.

This method is key to the chair's strength and stability.

Now for the final stage of construction.

They attach the front-leg assembly to the chair back.

The chair is placed in a press to completely secure the tenons.

Then they attach a support piece in each corner.

In the finishing department, they spray a light coat of stain, wipe off the excess so that the color is even, spray on a sealant, lightly re-sand the wood, and apply a coat of protective finish.

Finally, they add a seat cushion, which screws into the chair from underneath.

Now you're sitting pretty.

The first pools were built by the ancient greeks and romans in the 19th century.

Large cities like london started building indoor pools for sports and recreation.

Backyard residential pools became popular in the 1950s.

Today, residential in-ground pools are available in a variety of shapes and sizes.

Their parts are made to order in the factory.

The first step is to design the pool according to the client's specifications.

Computer software then determines exactly which components must be built.

The side panels of the pool are made with galvanized steel plated with zinc to prevent rusting.

They die-cut "v"-shaped notches on the top and will cut similar ones on the bottom later.

These little dimples in the metal will hide the heads of bolts.

They punch out holes on the remaining ends of the panel.

These will serve to join multiple panels to create the perimeter of the pool.

They insert each panel in a powerful metal folder.

It firmly clamps the sheet of metal and pushes up the edge to create a 90-degree angle.

Taking a flat, metal sheet and turning it into a three-dimensional object makes it stronger.

They fold the notches at the top and bottom ends of the panel.

They also die-cut a large hole for the clean-water inlet.

To make a curved panel, they place it on a fixed-radius jig.

They insert a metal profile called a stiffener and bolt it in place.

They use a custom flat head bolt and nut that will lodge themselves in the metal dimples.

Next, an automated clamp bends the panel to fit the jig's curve.

The "v"-shaped notches allow the panel to bend easily, but workers must install radius belts to maintain this shape.

They fasten the radius belts permanently using hydraulic rivet guns.

All in-ground pool panels are made to order and shipped as soon as they are ready.

In the thermoforming department, they use a fixed sheet of a.b.s. plastic to make the in-ground pool steps.

The sheet is firmly clamped in a frame and goes into an oven.

The oven heats the plastic to around 350 degrees for five minutes until it gets soft and pliable.

As the plastic comes out of the oven, a fiberglass mold is pushed up, forming the main shape of the steps.

A rigid cage seals the sides, and a powerful vacuum sucks out the air, forcing the plastic against the mold.

A series of fans cool down the plastic.

When it has hardened enough, it's removed from the mold.

They prepare the vinyl liner for the inside of the pool.

There are about 30 designs to choose from.

Workers unroll the vinyl on a cutting table, where a conveyor will keep pulling on it.

A computer-controlled rotary knife zips over the moving vinyl...

Cutting effortlessly to create all the required sections.

The cutting process generates little waste, and the materials are fully recyclable.

Workers carefully fold each section of the liner.

All sections will be assembled in another department, according to the assembly plan.

On-site, they assemble the steps, the side panels, and the piping for the filter and heater.

They pour concrete around the pool to form a foundation.

Then they pour some inside the pool to create the bottom.

They smooth the surface and let the concrete set for two days.

A worker unfolds the vinyl liner.

It has a semi-rigid pvc edge that hooks into the top of the pool.

They fill the space around the pool with gravel and pour a concrete sidewalk on top.

All that's left to do is add paving stones or a deck, some plants and furniture, and you'll have your own, personal paradise.