Downhill Ski Bindings
Immersion Parts Washers
Mining Ventilation
Pencil Sharpeners

The binding is the most important component of a downhill ski.

It attaches the ski boot to the ski.

It prevents injury by releasing the boot if the skier falls.

Also, an integrated brake engages upon release, stopping the ski from sliding down the hill.

Every downhill ski binding has a toe and heel piece.

The toe usually releases sideways in a fall, and the heel releases upward.

The earliest bindings were made of heavy stamped steel and had no safety release.

Today's bindings are made of lightweight material, such as extruded aluminum and fiberglass-reinforced plastic.

Using 3-d software, the research and development team designs the binding along with the molds and dyes used to manufacture the components.

The team produces a prototype of each component and uses three-dimensional measuring tools to verify the specifications.

Workers paint the visible aluminum and plastic components then cure them in an oven for 40 minutes.

They also dry them at room temperature for 24 hours.

This company produces high-end racing models, as well as less expensive models for beginner to intermediate skiers.

This aluminum housing is for the toe piece of a racing binding.

They screw on plastic tabs to keep the metal from damaging the plastic ski boot.

Then workers assemble the indicator, which is used to adjust the release setting.

The release setting determines how much torque is needed to trigger the binding to release the ski boot.

The torque is generated by the weight of the skier falling.

They place a bronze and aluminum ball joint in the metal base.

The ball joint acts as the rotational center of the toe piece when it releases.

They lubricate the ball joint with grease before putting the base in an assembly fixture.

Then they add the toe piece housing...

And a plastic cap with a white line on the side.

As they screw down the cap, it compresses the spring underneath.

They test the finished toe piece.

This machine stamps the company logo on the heel piece of a binding that's designed for beginner to intermediate skiers.

This one is made of fiberglass-reinforced plastic with a clear polyurethane protective cover.

You press the heel piece with the ski pole to get in and out of the ski.

Next, they mount a heel piece to a base and assemble the internal mechanism.

This includes a screw-down cap that sets the internal spring to a specific release setting.

An automated machine tests each heel and toe piece to make sure the mechanism functions correctly.

Another machine unscrews the cap halfway to lower the release setting to the midpoint.

Next, a metal pin connects the pivoting top of the heel piece to the base.

This setting tool locks the pin in its lateral position.

Now, workers mount the ski brake to the heel piece.

The ski boot maintains pressure on the brake to keep it in the off position.

In a ski accident, the fall releases that pressure, triggering the brake.

After the binding has been adjusted to the length of the ski boot, workers insert a notching pin that locks the heel piece to the mounting plate of the ski.

These plastic caps hide the heads of the lateral metal pin.

Finally, workers connect this lever to the notching pin.

You simply pull it up and back to disengage the pin and adjust for boot length.

The company subjects random samples from the production line to rigorous quality control tests.

Bindings are made to international standards.

These standards dictate how they're supposed to react to falls.

Provided the binding is correctly set for the skier's weight, boot size, and skiing ability, these standards ensure the ski boot releases in an accident but doesn't inadvertently release if the skier hits a big bump.

Removing oil, heavy soils, scale, or rust stains on a piece of metal can be tough.

This is where industrial cleaning technologies come in handy.

Immersion parts washers use degreasing and descaling compounds to clean metal.

They also use ultrasound to literally shake off the muck.

An immersion parts washer agitates water mixed with an industrial detergent to clean a mechanical part or piece of metal.

A pneumatic lift mechanism moves the platform up and down inside the tank as the water heats to about 150 degrees.

A robot loads stainless steel into a laser cutter, using suction cups to manipulate the sheet metal.

A cnc cutter uses a 2,500 watt laser to cut the steel, following a layout entered in a cad system.

The layout maximizes the number of parts made out of a single sheet.

The machine parts come out on an unloading platform where an operator performs a visual inspection.

He takes the parts to a cnc folding table.

The machine bends the sheet metal to form the outside shell of the immersion parts washer.

This is also called the tank skin.

A hydraulic bending machine makes flanges in the sheet metal to reinforce the tank walls and provide a surface for welding.

This high-end sheet metal-forming technique allows workers to produce a series of parts for multiple units.

A worker assembles the machine parts on a welding fixture.

He uses clamps to hold the pieces in place as he welds them together using an electric mig torch.

Welding such a thin sheet of stainless steel is a tricky job because it's more susceptible to warping from the heat.

The tank goes through a 24-hour leak test before painting.

A painter applies epoxy and acrylic hybrid electrostatic powder coat.

The coat combines the protective strength of epoxy and the resilience of acrylic.

The painter places the tank in a massive curing chamber...

And sets the oven time and temperature.

The baking process gives the powder coat a grainy, textured finish.

A worker grinds down the weld profiles and polishes the top tank walls with fine sandpaper.

Another worker brings in the lift arm and inserts it in the tank.

He puts the bearing support mechanism in place and bolts it onto the tank.

He inserts the rollers that will support and guide the lift arm...

Then drives a shaft through the bearings.

He installs the pneumatic cylinder behind the bearing support and pins it on top of the lift arm.

He brings in the agitator pump and installs its 3/4-horsepower electric motor next to the bearing support.

A plumber installs the fittings for the tank filter.

The filter removes contamination and debris from the cleaning solution.

A worker installs the platform and bolts it on the lift arm.

He installs a rack on the platform.

It's made of grainy fiberglass to prevent the pieces from shifting during a cleaning cycle.

After testing the movement of the lift arm and platform assembly, workers install the steel lid on the tank...

And attach its hinge.

Then they check the fit of the lid.

An electrician makes the connections for the heat and timer controls...

And screws the electric panel onto the side of the tank.

He closes the electric box, then tests the lift arm, the lid, and the agitator pump.

As the lift arm moves up, the platform lifts clean parts out of the water.

Washers like this one can clean anything from automotive castings to printing press parts.

In an underground mine, ventilation is critical for the safety of the miners.

Above-ground fans can either blow in fresh air or they can suck out toxic gases using ventilation ducts suspended from the ceiling of the mine shaft.

The black ventilation ducts are made of fiberglass.

The yellow ducts are made of vinyl reinforced with steel wire.

Both are designed to withstand negative pressure when drawing out gases and positive pressure when blowing in air.

To manufacture sections of fiberglass duct, they use a steel mandrel.

Workers wrap plastic around the mandrel to prevent the fiberglass from sticking.

They also wrap cardboard around one end of each duct section to increase its diameter.

Next, they start up the fiberglass winding machine.

It draws 29 strands of fiberglass roving through a bath of resin, then winds them in a helical pattern up and down the mandrel, building up a layer between 3 and 10 millimeters thick, depending on the application.

The regular end is called the spigot.

The wide end is called the bell.

The spigot of one duct section fits snugly inside the bell of the next.

This way, multiple sections can be connected to each other.

Workers embed d-rings at regular intervals along the top.

These rings are used to suspend the ducts from the mine shaft ceiling.

Once the winding is finished, workers cut the roving...

And roll the fiberglass-covered mandrel into a large oven for curing.

It takes about 30 minutes to cure the resin on a duct this size.

Once it's cured, they extract the mandrel.

They saw through the middle of the fiberglass duct to divide it into two shorter ducts of equal length.

Each has a bell end and a spigot end.

Workers use a hand saw to cut and shape some pieces into fittings.

Fittings are angled or "y"-shaped pieces that connect two straight pieces, allowing the route of the ducting to turn or branch out.

They connect the cut pieces with galvanized metal tape, then they seal the gaps with strips of fiberglass cloth saturated with resin.

To make spiral duct, they weld together sheets of vinyl to create a wider sheet.

On one end of the tube, they weld in a ring made of galvanized wire rope.

At the other end of the tube, they weld in an adjustable coupler.

To connect duct sections, the ring of one section fits into the coupler of the next one.

They mount the tube on the guide bar of the spiral winding machine.

The machine applies steel wire to reinforce the vinyl.

It also enables the duct section to collapse into a compact hoop.

As it works its way down the tube, the machine covers the wire with a strip of vinyl.

It welds the vinyl to the tube, forming a pocket that both locks the wire in position and protects it from wear.

When the machine reaches the opposite end of the tube, they cut the wire and remove the duct section.

The last step is to attach hangers at 2-foot intervals.

The hangers are used to suspend the ventilation ducts from the mine ceiling.

Spiral ducts are the easiest type of ventilation to transport and install because they're collapsible and lightweight.

However, they can get damaged in high-traffic work areas, so mines prefer to use sturdier fiberglass ventilation ducts.

Before the pencil sharpener, people used knives to sharpen the tips of pencils.

It was in the mid-19th century when a french inventor came up with a clever tool-- a little box with a blade and a cone-shaped opening.

Just twist the pencil into it, and it makes a very precise point.

The pencil sharpener has been a favorite of pencil pushers for over 150 years.

With a few twists, it can hone the graphite tip of a pencil to a very fine point.

To make pencil sharpeners, they start with high-carbon steel for the blades.

The steel unwinds through a straightener, then a feeder serves it up to a punchcutter.

It cuts out five blades in one action, complete with assembly holes in the center.

It also embosses the company logo onto it.

This machine can generate well over 100,000 pencil sharpener blades in an hour.

A worker distributes the blades onto a conveyor that will take them to an oven.

The temperature inside is 1,500 degrees.

The blades slowly circle in the oven.

This step takes 15 to 20 minutes.

Exposure to the intense heat and a quick cooldown in oil harden the blades, but it also leaves them tarnished.

So they drain the oil by spinning the blades in a perforated drum.

Then they add a mix of dried corn and polishing paste to the blades.

The drum tosses the blades in the polishing medium for six 6 to 12 hours.

This restores them, as we see in this before-and-after shot.

A circular feeder sorts them into a single file and racks them on a metal rod.

Once on the rod, a machine grinds a cutting edge into all of the blades at once.

Next, they manufacture the housing for the pencil sharpener blades.

A circular saw cuts a ridged magnesium bar to the correct length.

The magnesium blocks tumble into a feeder, which funnels them into a stamping machine.

The machine stamps the company logo onto the top and lower side of the blocks.

Machinery moves the pencil sharpener bodies forward to a drill that bores cone-shaped, pencil-sized holes into them.

A second drill carves holes in the top for screwing the blades into the pencil sharpener bodies.

A little metal rod shoves the pencil sharpener bodies out of the machine and into a bin.

A worker plunges the pencil sharpener bodies into five chemical baths.

Each bath has a different formula.

The chemicals soften the edges of the magnesium bodies, making the surface shinier.

A worker spreads the pencil sharpener bodies across a mesh conveyor.

The conveyor takes them through a dryer to remove any residue left behind by the chemical solutions.

These pencil sharpener bodies are now ready to receive blades.

A feeder system delivers them to an assembly station.

The screws funnel into an automated screwdriver at the assembly point.

A mechanism slides the blades into the pencil sharpener bodies as they arrive.

The pencil sharpeners fall into a bin, ready for retail.

It's taken many different processes to produce these magnesium pencil sharpeners.

Here's a recap of the process.

Over a century and a half after its invention, the manual pencil sharpener is still making life easier.

And in modern factories, the concept has been honed to a fine point.


Petanque Balls
Biologic Medicines
Asphalt Pavers
Basque Espadrilles

today on "how it's made"-- pétanque balls...

Biologic medicines...

Asphalt pavers...

And basque espadrilles.

the french game of pétanque is somewhat similar to the italian game of bocce and the british game of lawn bowling.

It's played with hollow steel balls called boules on a dirt or gravel surface.

The object of the game is to toss the balls as close as possible to a small wooden ball.

The first pétanque players carved their balls from wood.

By the late 1800s, players hammered in nails to make their balls heftier and less likely to crack when hitting other balls.

Then came brass balls and later the hollow steel balls used today.

Manufacturing begins with long bars of carbon or stainless steel, about 1 1/2 inches in diameter.

This is stainless steel.

An automated saw cuts pieces about 1 3/4 inch long.

Workers place the pieces on a conveyer, which moves them into an induction oven.

The oven heats them to between 1,650 and 2,190 degrees fahrenheit, softening the steel.

As soon as a piece comes out of the oven, the forging press strikes it three times, first flattening it into a disk.

Next, thinning the disk, then stamping the disk into a half sphere.

Workers mill the forged half sphere on a lathe to refine the shape and to create a gap they later fill with metal wire when they weld this half to another half to form the ball.

A worker drops the milled halves down two separate chutes and deliver two halves at a time to an automated welding machine.

The machine clamps the halves together and welds them to each other.

A robot removes the ball from the welding machine and transfers it to a computer-guided milling machine.

As the machine's lathe spins the ball, a knife shaves off thin layers of steel to smooth the ball and make the weld invisible.

This also puts the ball within a specific diameter and weight range in accordance with international rules governing the sport.

The machine also engraves a pattern to help identify whose balls are whose.

International pétanque rules require a ball to have four items engraved into its surface-- the brand name, the pattern name, the weight of the ball, and a serial number for the set to which it belongs.

Once the brand, pattern and weight are engraved, the balls move along a conveyor toward the tempering station.

Cutting, heating, forging, and machining steel makes it brittle and weak.

Tempering is the process of hardening it to restore its strength.

After heating the ball to between 1,470 and 1,830 degrees fahrenheit, they immediately cool it in water that's about 104 degrees, a process known as quenching.

After tempering the steel, manufacturers polish the ball with an automated sander.

The finished balls do vary slightly, so this last automated machine weighs each one and sorts it in rows of identical weight.

Then, equal weight balls are grouped in sets of three and are engraved with the same serial number.

These pétanque balls are made of carbon steel.

To prevent oxidation and corrosion, the factory electroplates its carbon steel balls with a protective layer of chromium.

It submerges the balls in a series of chemical baths and water baths to prep the surface for the final dip in an electroplating tank in which an electrical current draws chromium particles through the water and deposits them onto the ball's surface.

The chromium treatment leaves a white film.

This brushing machine removes it and restores the shiny finish.

International rules require pétanque balls to be 2 3/4 to just over 3 inches in diameter and weigh between 1 1/2 to 1 3/4 pounds.

The retail box contains three identical balls engraved with the same serial number, along with the wood target ball, a cleaning cloth, and a warranty card.

The goal of the game is to toss the balls as close as possible to the target ball while knocking the opponents' balls away from it.

And the player's feet must remain planted inside a small circle when tossing.

You can play pétanque indoors in a venue known as a boulodrome or boule bar, or you can play outdoors anywhere there's a patch of relatively flat ground.

Biologic medicines are proteins produced inside living cells, which are mini factories generating the genetically engineered protein treatments.

It's a different approach from traditional drugs, which are manufactured using chemical synthesis.

Biologics offer hope where other therapies have failed.

To mass-produce these biologic medicines, scientists use the molecular machinery inside living cells.

The process starts with the insertion of genetic material into chinese hamster ovarian cells.

They're known as cho cells.

They keep them frozen in liquid nitrogen until the next step.

In the seed lab, a technician thaws the cells in warm water.

He transfers them to a glass flask that contains growth media.

The growth media is comprised of hundreds of nutrients, including vitamins and minerals.

It's a recipe to help the cells multiply.

A worker transfers the flask that contains the cells to the production side of the plant.

The team injects the mixture into a 5-gallon-capacity bioreactor.

Inside, a propeller agitates the mixture to stimulate growth.

Over a 3-week period, the number of cells increases exponentially.

Each new cell is programmed to produce the target biologic protein.

A worker sterilizes this 21-gallon-capacity bioreactor to prepare it to receive the cell mixture.

Under precisely controlled conditions in the bioreactor, the cells multiply substantially.

Over several weeks, the team transfers the cells to progressively larger bioreactors.

The cells grow until there are trillions, each producing the target protein.

Next, a technician measures salts and other dry ingredients.

He's preparing a recipe for purifying the protein liquid once it's been separated from the cells.

He labels the bag and records the information separately as required by government regulations.

He adds the ingredients to purified water in a mixing tank.

An automated system keeps tabs on the condition of the purification solution.

After separating cellular material from the protein mixture, the team pumps it through steel and glass columns.

Here, the purification solution works with resin beads to separate the protein from the impurities.

The purified protein is stored in steel tanks at -4 degrees fahrenheit.

It keeps the biologic medicine in a stable state.

Meanwhile, in the quality control lab, a technician injects a sample into glass capsules.

She places the capsules into a robotic analytical instrument.

This sophisticated equipment measures the potency and purity of the biologic medicine.

Once the biologic medicine passes the tests, they prepare glass vials to receive it.

That means an intensive cleaning.

The automated system loads the vials into individual slots, and sprayers rinse them.

The system then transports the vials through a heat tunnel that sterilizes them to remove any potentially harmful toxins.

Moving through an isolated sterile zone, the vials funnel into a fill station.

Nozzles dispense a specific dose of biologic medicine into the vials.

Here, plungers insert stoppers in the vials.

A camera then takes a picture, and a computer instantly analyzes it to confirm that the stoppers have been correctly installed.

The system then caps the stoppers to completely seal them from contaminants.

This machinery hygienically fills and caps over 100 vials per minute.

A worker visually inspects each vial.

He carefully swirls the contents as he looks for impurities.

If he sees any, the vial of medicine will be rejected.

Finally, this technician takes a sample and conducts a test to ensure the medicine is sterile.

Grown in living cells, these biologic medicines are now on their way to potentially making a difference in people's lives.

The development of the asphalt paver in the early part of the 20th century changed the way roads were built.

The paving machine took over from large crews who paved surfaces manually using picks and shovels.

This invention has made it a lot easier to pave the way.

The asphalt paver transforms rough roads into smooth ones.

This paving machine distributes asphalt, levels it, and also provides the initial compaction.

Making one starts with a computerized plasma cutter.

The operator programs it to cut out all the parts of the paver structure from heavy-gauge steel plates.

It also configures the cutting to minimize waste.

The plasma tooling also cuts and threads holes for bolting the parts together.

Once the parts have been cut, a crane transfers them to a welding fixture.

The fixture holds the parts for the paver frame in tight alignment while a welder tacks them together.

He also tack welds smaller parts like engine mounts to the structure.

Once the tack welds are done, he does full welds throughout, creating strong, thick seams.

A team loads more steel into a computerized press break.

It clamps the steel plate between a matching punch and die.

Then, using hydraulic power, the press break makes precise bends to shape the steel into a section of the paver hopper.

With the first bend done, one of the workers measures the angle with a digital level to confirm that it's exactly right.

The team then moves the steel plate into position for the next bends.

They make a total of three in the hopper part.

Those three bends must be perfectly angled and positioned to fit the rest of the hopper.

It's why precision is critical.

They do a final check of the three bends using a template.

Next, a welder joins a side panel to the hopper part with the three bends.

These two parts form the left side of the hopper.

After an acid wash, it's into the paint booth to coat the steel with an epoxy primer and urethane paint.

The parts then spend time in an oven to accelerate the paint cure.

Then it's over to the assembly line, where construction of the paver tractor is already underway.

A worker bolts gear systems to the sides.

These gears will drive the paver wheels.

With the help of a crane, the team guides the engine into position.

The engine's mounting structure mates to bushings in four locations.

They now assemble the hopper to the front of the paving machine.

Hinge tubes on the hopper part intermesh with tubes on the center conveyor framework.

They'll run a long pin through these hinge tubes to complete the assembly.

With everything in good working order, they're ready to build the screed, beginning with the base plate.

The screed is a critical apparatus.

Its system of vibrating extenders both levels and compacts the asphalt once it's deposited on the road.

They're also equipped with heating elements to keep the asphalt workable.

They run a battery of tests on all these components to confirm that the screed is fully operational.

The screed is now ready to be mated to the paver tractor.

They put the tractor in reverse and back it up to the screed until brackets on both meet in perfect alignment.

Once the brackets have been bolted together, the asphalt paver is ready for work.

The road ahead will be long and potentially winding, but it should be pretty smooth, thanks to this asphalt paver.

Espadrilles have been a popular style of casual footwear for decades now, yet most people likely don't know the origin of this comfortable cloth shoe.

Europeans have been wearing espadrilles since the 1300s.

The basque region in northern spain is still famous for them.

Espadrilles are fashion forward and a step back in time.

The people of the basque region have been making these cloth and jute shoes for hundreds of years.

They began reinforcing the soles with rubber in the early 1900s.

Jute is a plant fiber that's spun into strong, coarse twine.

For traditional basque espadrilles, they use twine that's about 1/10th of an inch thick.

Large jute spools feed an automated braiding machine.

Its five bobbins move in a circular pattern that produces a neat braid measuring roughly 3/4ths of an inch wide by a quarter of an inch thick.

Right after exiting the braiding machine, the braid enters a calibration machine which applies tension to make the dimensions uniform.

Each espadrille sole is hand-crafted by an artisan.

He winds the braid on a form that's more than a century old.

The positioning of the metal pegs in the holes correspond to the size of the shoe he's making.

The closer the pegs are to each other, the smaller the shoe size.

After nine rotations for this shoe size, he cuts the braid, then, using a large needle, ties off the end.

He places the wound braid into a press which, as we see here in slow motion, compresses it into the shape of the sole.

In real time, this step takes just a couple of seconds.

Then he picks up the sole with a comb and feeds it into an automated sewing machine.

Two large needles, one above, one below, simultaneously stitch all the way through the sole with thick jute thread, binding the wound jute braid.

This machine sews more than 100 pairs of soles per hour.

By now, the espadrilles' signature jute sole is formed and sewn, but it's not quite finished yet.

To prevent it from wearing out, it needs a protective layer of rubber.

The artisan now opens a mold for the corresponding shoe size and fills the sole-shaped cavities with a pre-measured quantity of colorless rubber granules.

Then, he places the jute soles on top.

He closes the mold and places it in a press for 6 minutes.

The press heats the mold to 300 degrees fahrenheit, melting the rubber granules.

The liquid rubber spreads throughout the cavities, penetrates the jute fibers and vulcanizes, meaning it hardens and cures.

This produces a rubber outer sole about 1/6th of an inch thick that protects the jute inner sole.

The espadrilles' uppers are made of 100-percent-cotton canvas.

The artisan stacks about 20 pieces and cuts them simultaneously with a razor-like blade.

Each upper is comprised of a front piece and a back piece.

A seamstress sews the upper entirely by hand.

She wears a glove that has a copper cup built into the palm, which she uses to force the giant needle through the tough jute.

After stitching the front and back pieces to the sole, she sews them to each other along the sides.

She closes and reinforces the toe with three rows of stitches.

All this with strong, thick thread made of braided cotton.

This maker of basque espadrilles prides itself in using only natural materials, even in the paper packaging.

The rubber used for the soles contains no colorants but is infused with citronella, a fragrant plant oil believed to help repel mosquitoes.


Motorcycle Goggles
Handbuilt Jukeboxes
Vacuum Excavators
Pewter Shaving Sets

The inuit and yupik native alaskan tribes invented specialized goggles to prevent snow blindness.

In the early 20th century, a new kind of eyewear was created for airline pilots in order to protect their faces from wind.

Soon, motorcyclists started wearing the eyewear for the same purpose.

This manufacturer uses the same tooling process used to produce the iconic eye protection worn by the ace pilots of the royal air force during world war ii.

Production begins with a coil feeder, which feeds a strip of soft-coil brass into a press tool.

The tool stamps out a series of flat blanks.

The press simultaneously punches two guide holes that will help position the blanks on the other tools.

Two raised press tools form the blank around a left and right die.

The press tools add new folds and contours to the blanks.

Another press tool stamps out the center aperture.

A device punches out stitching holes that will allow an attachment to connect to a leather face pad.

A different press tool punctures the stitching holes located along the goggle frame.

Due to the age of the machinery, the distance between the holes has become slightly uneven, giving the goggles their distinctive character.

Next, the nose-bridge bracket is positioned on a rivet shaft.

With the eyepiece in place, the craftsman triggers the device to rivet the components together.

Before he attaches the two eyepieces, the craftsman polishes each piece against a grinding wheel.

This is a two-step process starting with an operation called scarfing, which prepares the surface, followed by polishing with a special compound.

The goggle lenses will be installed into the frames at a 45-degree angle, so a grinding wheel casts a 22.5-degree angle on each section of glass.

The craftswoman removes the slight burr left by the grinding process with a sanding wheel.

The lenses are made out of shatterproof laminate for additional protection.

The lens frame is made out of a painted brass channel.

The brass has been annealed for strength and to remove any internal stresses.

A small rod is inserted as a temporary support.

She places the assembly in a clamp and secures the channel in place with a brass cleat.

She uses a manual hand press to bend the channel to 45 degrees.

The craftswoman removes the support rod and applies epoxy glue to the seam between the two sections of glass.

She inserts a brass cleat to hold the assembly in place, and this time the cleat is permanently fastened to the assembly.

Now the eyepiece is ready for the next phase of production.

The eyepieces are attached to a leather face pad made from lamb nappa leather.

A craftsperson starts the process by using a custom die and a 10-ton press to stamp out the required shape.

Then she uses a leatherworking sewing machine to stitch the two layers of the face pad together.

With exactly 1.5 millimeters between each stitch, the attachment is durable without overperforating the leather.

She sews the inner perimeter of the face mask with an overlocking stitch.

This operation is not easy.

It takes a skilled leatherworker up to seven months of training to become truly proficient.

Before sewing the nose-cover section of the face pad, the craftswoman glues the layers together to ensure they're assembled correctly.

After the glue has cured, the goggle eyepieces are placed in position over the face pad, and the components are stitched together by hand.

The goggle assembly is almost complete.

The goggle lenses are placed into position in the channels of the eyepiece frames.

Now they just need to be secured in place.

The headband clips attach to the goggles and lock in the lenses.

Not only do these handcrafted goggles protect your face, you can be assured they will never go out of style.

Today we can listen to music instantly from a smartphone or in our car, but to enjoy a bit of nostalgia, you can still enjoy a more tactile and visual musical experience by pushing down a button and waiting for a jukebox to load and play a song on a vinyl record.

This classic 1940s dome-top jukebox is built by hand.

It plays vinyl records, which are loaded into the machine after purchase.

A technician builds the cabinet out of thin, flexible sheets of plywood.

Once five sheets of wood have been glued together, the technician places them in a dome-shaped mold.

After glue is applied to the inside of the cabinet, team members insert the wood back panel.

The layers are then held together by hydraulic rams for 24 hours.

Then workers remove the cabinet from the mold and install shelving and brackets.

The brackets, or knuckles, are made out of zinc and will hold the cabinet door together.

When a knuckle comes out of the mold, the edges are rough and contain excess metal, so a technician smoothes the knuckle with a belt sander and then uses a guide to drill screw holes.

The factory sends the knuckles out to a specialty metal plater, who plates them with chrome.

The cabinet door consists of a front hoop and a front panel.

Technicians place both parts in an assembly jig to ensure they are positioned correctly.

Then eight knuckles are connected-- two at the top and three on each side.

Every jukebox is uniquely handmade, so a technician verifies that the door and cabinet are aligned accordingly.

Next, both components are moved to the cabinet-finishing area to be painted or stained, depending on the wood.

The customer selects the color and any options, such as programmable l.e.d. lighting or bluetooth connectivity for streaming digital music.

The bubble tubes are handcrafted from standard glass tubing.

An artisan seals the tube at the bottom then passes a probe to check for any small cracks.

If the tube is intact, tiny silicon crystals are placed at the bottom, and fluid that turns from liquid into gas is poured into the tube at very low temperature.

The artisan melts the glass with a torch to seal the top of the tube.

Each jukebox has four straight bubble tubes and four curved ones.

Making a curved tube requires two artisans.

One heats the tube, while the other bends it around a form.

Next, the tubes are placed in a tester, which heats the fluid, turning it into gas.

The silicon crystals at the bottom disrupt the gas as it rises, creating hundreds of rising bubbles.

As the bubbles reach the top of the tube, they cool and turn back into liquid.

A technician installs the tubes inside transparent protective covers.

He connects each tube to a heating plate hidden inside the cabinet.

Another specialist wires the jukebox electrical systems and speakers.

The speaker assembly is located behind the front door of the cabinet.

A 1950s-style jukebox is made with shaped glass and chrome.

It has a curved, see-through front door, which allows the user to watch as the vinyl system finds, pulls, and plays the selected record.

Each machine contains a 70-slot circular basket that holds a two-sided record.

The motor in this reproduction jukebox is guided by computer software.

The motor rotates the basket to bring the selected record to the lift arm.

Another motor rotates the turntable to play the song.

The software reads the position of each record via an optical sensor and a rotating slotted disc.

The software calculates the quickest route to the requested record, then spins the basket to bring the record to the lift arm.

So when your jukebox arrives, all you have to do is drop in your favorite records, make title cards using the labeling software, and insert them in the title display.

This jukebox is ready to provide the listener with good times and good vibes for many years to come.

Standard excavators shovel and dig, but due to their size, they can sometimes break underground utilities.

Vacuum excavators dig with a technique that doesn't cause damage, softening the soil with a high-pressure stream of water, then sucking up the mud into a debris tank.

A vacuum excavator functions as a pressure washer and shop vacuum.

Using a high-pressure water jet, the excavator removes materials with a vacuum hose and deposits it into a debris tank.

The tank holds up to 1,188 gallons of debris and is made from high-strength sheet steel.

A steel rolling machine curves the sheet under pressure.

A welder clamps the ends of the sheet together and tacks them to form a cylinder.

Next, he transfers the cylinder to a welding fixture and fully welds the seam.

Then the welder mounts a steel dome to the front end of the tank.

Using an assembly jig, he clamps the dome into position.

He strikes the dome with a mallet to close any gaps between the dome and the cylinder.

He tack-welds the parts to each other.

He removes the cylinder from the jig and fully welds the exterior seam around the perimeter.

Another machinist welds the inner seam.

Other components are welded to the tank.

These include a large hinge for the tank's rear door, side pins that allow the tank to tilt when emptied, a pair of windows, storage hooks, and an inlet for the suction hose.

Once all the steel parts have been cleaned with hot water and a chemical that inhibits rust, a technician sprays them with primer.

Then a coat of durable, epoxy-based paint is applied.

The paint takes a couple of hours to dry.

The vacuum excavator is built into a welded steel trailer that has upright steel posts on each side to hold the water tanks.

A technician installs l.e.d. brake lights and side indicator lights.

Next, wiring is run along the length of the trailer.

The wires control the machine's trailer brakes and safety lights.

Then the wiring is connected to the lights.

A technician covers every connection with heat-shrink plastic.

This will ensure the connected wires are water-resistant.

Next, the hydraulic pump is installed, as well as rubber cushions to protect the bottom of the debris tank, and reflective red-and-white safety tape, as required by law.

A technician installs two industrial tires on each side of the trailer.

He runs hydraulic lines from the hydraulic pump to the lift cylinders that tilt the debris tank and to its rear-door mechanism.

The empty debris tank weighs more than 1,500 pounds.

Using an overhead crane, a team lifts and positions the tank over the rear part of the trailer, lowering it into the hydraulic lift system.

Next, the power pack is installed on the front of the trailer.

The pack contains the gas or diesel engine, the vacuum and water pumps, the battery, and belts that connect the pumps and engine pulleys.

After the first of two polyethylene water tanks are assembled, technicians install an air-filtration unit.

The unit protects the inner components of the vacuum pump.

Two technicians install the second water tank, placing it in between the trailer's support posts.

Then the tank is secured with two crossbars.

To dig with a vacuum excavator, the suction hose is attached to the debris tank while the other end digs.

Then the ignition, water, and vacuum pumps are started.

The water pump pressurizes the water flowing from the tanks through the hose and out the nozzle of an attached wand.

The water pressure turns the soil into mud, and the suction hose removes the material.

Thanks to this shovel-free process, operators can now dig without damaging underground utilities.

Inside a pewter shaving set is a double-barreled mug called scuttle.

In one compartment, it keeps shaving water hot, while holding soap in the other.

The set's badger-bristle shaving brush is used to work the soap and water into a hot lather.

With a pewter shaving set, the user employs nostalgic tools to shave.

It's elegant, and it helps get the job done.

Pewter of made of tin, with a small amount of copper and antimony.

Tin is a soft metal, while the other metals add strength.

A metal worker places a filter gate at one end of the mold.

He scoops up molten pewter and pours it in the mold in front of the filter gate.

The filter gate captures impurities as the pewter flows to the other side.

Heat causes any air pockets to rise to the surface and dissipate.

Spraying the pewter with cool water accelerates the solidification.

After 10 seconds, the pewter has hardened into a thick slab called an ingot.

A metal worker breaks off the excess material left by the filter gate.

The pewter is now in a workable form.

A technician places the ingot in a machine with steel rollers and adjusts the space between the upper and lower rollers.

Using 66 tons of pressure, the rollers flatten the ingot.

It takes several passes through the rollers to reduce the ingot to its desired thickness.

Additionally, the rolling stretches the ingot, transforming it into a large sheet.

Later, the sheet will be used to make the shaving scuttle and brush handle.

Now it's time to construct the beard combs.

A technician ladles molten pewter into a rubber mold.

The centrifugal force forces the liquid pewter into the mold's crevices.

After 2 1/2 minutes, the mold is removed, producing seven pewter beard combs.

The technician extracts the combs from the runners formed from the molten pewter.

After sanding, the combs are dipped in a specialized solution.

In a vibrating machine, the ceramic pellets shake off most of the excess solution.

But the solution that's seeped into the embossed logo remains, adding definition.

Back to the shaving scuttle and brush assembly, a large sheet of pewter is cut into discs.

A technician pours resin into a mold to create the shaving-brush handle.

After the handle's cured for 25 minutes, the resin transitions from a liquid to a solid.

Now he has a handle form to work with.

As the handle spins in a lathe, the technician shaves off imperfections with a cutting tool.

A sharp, circular die cuts out discs from the pewter sheet.

With the handle core still spinning, the worker shapes the pewter disc, essentially giving the part a pewter skin.

Using the same spinning techniques, the scuttle shaving mug are now complete.

Using a natural abrasive mixed with oil, the pewter parts are buffed.

This step removes flaws and provides an initial polish.

Then the maker's mark is carved into the shaving-scuttle base, stamping the logo into the pewter.

Now that the scuttle-mug parts are assembled, a technician solders the base to the scuttle body.

A decorative cured handle adds visual interest and will provide the user a place to grip.

A technician adds more solder to seal the handle to the scuttle body.

This shaving scuttle is now complete.

All the parts will undergo an extensive polishing, giving the pewter a mirror finish.

Using a buffing wheel, a technician polishes the shaving scuttle one last time.

Finally, this pewter shaving set is ready to take on stubble.


Traditional Bows
Coffee Machines
Mascots
Hammocks

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

Traditional bows...

Coffee machines...

Mascots...

And hammocks.

When some innovative caveman invented the bow and arrow, it was a huge breakthrough.

The discovery turned the homo sapien into an efficient hunter-gatherer.

These days, archery has made a comeback in the hunting community, and it's even been reclassified as an olympic sport.

Today's bows are definitely not primitive devices.

Crafted with calculated precision, they make it easier for you to take your best shot and hit your intended target.

To make a longbow, a craftsman cuts six strips of cherry wood just under a quarter of an inch using a band saw.

Then, with a belt sander, he repeatedly thins the wood strips on both sides, tapering the ends a little each time.

The tapering gives the wood some flexibility, which the bow will need to launch arrows into the air.

With this band saw, he now carves a handle from a piece of wood.

Next he brushes superadhesive glue onto fiberglass strips and the tapered strips of cherry wood.

He works swiftly because the glue will start to dry in less than an hour.

Now he layers the strips.

The fiberglass strips buttress the six glued wood strips on either end.

This process is called lamination.

Next he glues the wood handle to the fiberglass and wood lamination.

And he tops it with a piece of masking tape to protect it from scratches and glue smudges during the next steps.

Now the laminates are squeezed together.

He places them on a carved plywood shape called a bow form.

He positions a steel heat strip, a rubber hose, and another plywood form on top of the laminates.

He clamps it all together, then inflates the rubber hose with an air compressor.

The pressure from the hose combined with the heat from the metal strip mold the wood to the bow shape as the glue sets.

One hour later, he removes the laminates, nicely pressed and glued into more bow-like curves.

Now he draws the bow form onto the newly curved lamination, following a template made of fiberglass.

With his band saw, he cuts the wood along the lines he's just drawn.

He cuts an arrow shelf.

That's the notch for the arrow to rest as the archer aims.

Then he trims the handle, making it a little wider at the center for comfort.

Next, using a coarse-toothed file, he hollows out little grooves in the upper and lower limbs of the bow.

They're called string nocks and the string will loop around them.

To strengthen the tips, he glues little pieces of fiberglass and moose horn over them and the freshly filed nocks.

He clamps it in a vise grip to set.

When it's dry, he files through the horn and fiberglass to bring back the nock groove.

He smoothes it with sandpaper.

Now he glues another piece of wood over the handle to improve the look and feel of it.

He clamps it together while the glue dries, and three hours later, he sands it.

Next he wraps the handle in a piece of leather and stitches it together with nylon thread called artificial sinew.

Many years ago, they used the tendons of an animal for thread.

The leather will make the bow easier to grip.

With a gel pen, he writes a serial number on the back of the bow, along with the draw weight.

This bow will hold about 44 pounds of pressure in check when it's drawn.

This is a flemish string jig--  a wood fixture with posts on it.

He loops nylon string around the posts.

This is how he measures the string.

It's always four inches shorter than the bow.

He cuts it with a utility knife, then rolls wax onto it to make it easier to work with.

He measures some string.

Then he twists 16 strands of nylon-- 8 black and 8 white-- into a braid with loops on the ends.

He hooks the string on the nocks and it's time for target practice.

As he bends the bow, energy is stored.

He releases it, and the energy propels the pointed projectile right on target.

Coin-operated coffee machines are a staple in offices and public places.

Years ago, these machines just weren't able to produce consistent brews.

And there also wasn't much choice in brewing style.

But today, even finicky java junkies drink machine coffee because the latest machines have mastered the art of making delicious coffee one cup at a time.

This office coffee machine actually makes several different types of hot beverages.

And if your employer prepays, you don't have to insert any coins.

Production begins with a sheet of steel about 6 1/2 feet long by about 1 1/2 feet wide.

This flat, as it's called, will become the top and side sections of the machine's casing.

A computer-guided punch press makes dozens of perforations for ventilation and for the various fittings the machine will need in order to function.

A worker puts another sheet of steel into a press.

This press bends the metal into 90-degree angles.

This piece will become the bottom of the casing.

A worker uses a spot-welding machine to assemble what's called the base panel.

This will later house a waste chute, overflow sensors, and wires.

Another worker coats the casing with an epoxy-based paint powder.

This process statically charges the powder and draws it to the metal like a magnet.

Excess powder falls into a barrel below.

Here a worker installs a fan that will vent the steam and heat generated inside the machine.

Another worker assembles one of the two coffee-delivery mechanisms, called augers.

When the machine's on, they move the ground coffee to the brewer.

He installs the augers into what's called the dual hopper.

The hopper's two sections will hold up to six pounds of different coffee blends, such as dark and light roasts.

Next he installs what's called an agitation wheel.

This plastic wheel helps move the ground coffee along and prevents it from getting stuck.

The worker then aligns plastic couplings on the augers to mate with the ingredient dispenser.

The dual hopper attaches to the ingredient dispenser with one screw in a pivoting bracket.

Workers also connect power wires to the dispenser's motor and to a water-inlet valve.

Next they install a heater and temperature sensor inside a plastic water tank that's nearly two gallons large.

This 1,100-watt heater keeps the water at 200 degrees fahrenheit, just below boiling.

That's the optimal temperature for extracting flavor from ground coffee beans.

After applying stickers warning service technicians to turn off the machine before draining it, a worker installs three outlet valves-- one to dispense hot water for tea, one for coffee, and another for hot chocolate.

Next come stainless-steel rods to monitor the water level inside the tank.

They trigger an automatic refill mechanism.

The worker connects power wires to the brewer motor.

Then she mounts what's called the whipper mixing bowl.

This aligns with the chocolate-syrup dispenser to prepare the hot chocolate.

Next she installs the brewer-motor assembly into the machine's casing.

This is the coffee machine's 15-button selection panel.

It lets you select what type of hot drink to brew, in what cup size, and when to start.

The panel also displays the prices when the coffee's not on the house.

Once that's hooked up, workers test the chocolate-syrup delivery system.

They run water through it to ensure it doesn't leak.

They also test to see if the system dispenses the correct dose of syrup.

One dose is a half ounce--  a tablespoon.

A small cup of hot chocolate requires two doses.

A large cup requires four.

Now they install the brewer.

It works much like a french press coffee maker, brewing a separate batch for each cup.

To test it, they run water through it and make sure the selection panel works properly.

By testing the panel with the coffee machine closed, they ensure the circuits are properly aligned behind the selection buttons.

Depending on how strong you select your coffee, a dispenser releases between .

2 and .

6 ounces of ground coffee into a re-usable nylon filter.

A piston then forces hot water through the filter for 10 to 20 seconds, depending on the size of the cup.

This process extracts the flavor of the ground beans.

The machine then scrapes away the coffee grinds and throws them down the built-in waste chute.

Then it prepares for the next customer, and the next delicious cup.

Mascots are supposed to bring luck, but the people who wear mascot costumes have had a few lucky breaks themselves in recent years.

The outfits are much lighter now, and there's even an exhaust system complete with a tiny fan inside the head so it's not so hot in there.

That helps the mascot keep his energy up for the entire game.

This dinosaur mascot for the lung association is part of a new breed.

It's really evolved into something that's relatively easy to work in.

To make this dinosaur, they sketch him out.

Then the artist modifies the figure to human proportions, targeting a height of 5'10", which means the costume would fit performers 5'8" to 6' tall.

The artist designs huge eyes and a very extravagant mouth, and not just for creative reasons.

The large openings will give the mascot performer room to see and to breathe through screens.

Now a sculptor carves big pieces of lightweight, uncrushable foam.

With a utility knife, he shapes the dinosaur's head, based on the design pattern.

Traditionally, fiberglass has been used for mascot heads but foam is half the weight.

He attaches a battery pack to the inside of the head, at the back of the neck, using velcro.

He tests it to make sure it has enough juice to power this tiny, square exhaust fan, which is to be placed inside the head at the top.

Then he sprays glue on the foam, sticking the sculpted layers of foam together.

Now the dinosaur head is starting to shape up.

He cuts out those enormous eye holes.

Then he tries on the head for size.

He checks visibility and ease of movement.

Next the sculptor slices into a very dense piece of foam.

It's dense because it will need to hold up to heavy traffic.

This is the dinosaur's foot.

He scoops out foam in the center of the foot, hollowing out an area.

Then he carves out more, following a pattern of a size-12 shoe so that a human foot could fit inside this big mascot claw.

He rounds the outside of the foam foot with a belt sander.

Now the foot is fully sculpted and ready for the fabric department.

There, a worker sprays heavy-duty glue onto the outside of the foot, and stretches a nylon fleece fabric over it.

The fabric has a lot of give so that it can be tightly pulled into the grooves of the foam.

Now she sprays adhesive onto the bottom of it and cuts off the excess fabric.

She sews the seams with a very tough thread.

Then a worker glues a rugged rubber sole onto the bottom of the dinosaur foot.

This is a toenail made of nylon stuffed with polyfill.

It takes three hours to make a foot.

Now it's back to the other end.

He glues an eye onto the mascot head.

The eye is made of breathable nylon stretched over a plastic frame.

Another worker sews on a horn, which is made of fabric-covered foam.

Then she stitches on the nostrils.

And now the mascot has some expression.

But there's one more step.

He glues a white nylon screen over the mouth and sticks black fabric strips over it to give the mascot its smile.

Now a worker drafts a pattern for the outer body.

It will go over an inner-body suit that will give the mascot its rotund shape.

She cuts the liner fabric for the outer body, following the pattern...

And then follows the same pattern for the outside fleece.

She sews three layers-- fleece, foam, and liner-- all together.

This serger machine cuts off excess fabric, and it sews and binds the edges.

She hand-stitches the scales onto the back of the dinosaur mascot.

And now it's time to give this mascot suit a test run.

It fits like a glove.

But what's the view like from the insideof that head?

Hmm.

Not too bad.

This dinosaur mascot suit is ready to help its user excite the crowd.

When christopher columbus discovered the new world back in the 15th century, he also discovered the hammock.

It was in the west indies that columbus found natives lounging in what he later described as sleeping nets.

And when hammocks were introduced to the europeans, they really caught on.

Hammocks are still used centuries later.

Hammocks were once called hamacks because they were woven with fibers from the hamack tree.

Today they're made of braided polyester.

To make a hammock, a worker measures and marks the spots for holes to be drilled in a hardwood spreader bar.

He spaces the 22 holes almost 3 inches apart.

He rounds the edges of the wooden bar with a shaped cutter called a router, smoothing out any sharp edges that could jab you when you climb into the hammock.

Using an electric drill, he makes holes a half inch in size in the spreader bar.

Then, with a countersink, he scoops out the wood around the edges of the holes, to make a gentler slope for the polyester rope.

He adheres the company's prepasted label onto the bar.

Next, 16 bobbins turn at a speed that could make you dizzy just watching.

They're spinning the polyester cord.

The bobbins twist the 16 polyester strands, braiding the strands into a herringbone pattern while electrical pulleys draw them up.

The pulleys drop the cord in a drum.

Now it's all in the wrist action.

A weaver deftly intertwines the thick cord into a triangular shape.

She's making the hammock's harness.

It's called a clew.

She tugs each row tightly to a ring at the top to ensure that the weave is steadfast.

As she weaves, she drapes the long pieces of cord over a wood frame, to keep them from tangling.

After the triangle is formed, she checks for errors in the weave.

Now she threads the clew cords through the holes in the spreader bar.

She snares a cord with a large crochet hook.

Using the hook, she threads a cord through the hole at the furthest end of the spreader bar and then knots it.

And she does the same on the other end of the bar.

While the bar hangs by the two cords, she pulls the rest of the clew cords through all 22 holes in the bar.

Next she positions the spreader bar under a guide bar to ensure everything's level.

And she knots the rest of the cords tightly onto the underside of the spreader bar.

It's a critical step.

If there's any slack in the clew, the yarn will stretch and the hammock will be misshapen.

This hammock harness is now strong enough to support a 450-pound person.

Next she uses a 10-foot-long cord to make a chain of small links by pulling each link through the previous one.

The top of the chain rope hangs from a hook, stabilizing it, and allowing the weaver to quickly turn the simple cord into an intricate-looking chain.

Now she hooks each end of the chain onto pins on a loom.

She weaves another cord into the chain, threading it with a crochet hook.

She makes one loop in about every sixth link in the chain rope, and she hooks that cord onto the same pin as the chain.

There's no rest for the hammock weaver.

She takes a shuttle, which is a piece of wood with 656 feet of cord wrapped around it.

She pulls it from below up through the available loops and then back down, expertly weaving the web that is the hammock bed.

She hooks a second chain rope on the loom, and threads the edge of the woven bed to this chain.

Now she places the spreader bar of a finished harness on one end of the loom.

She lines up the pins of the loom with the holes of the bar.

She knots the cord on each pin to a cord from the spreader bar.

She repeats the process at the other end of the loom, binding the second harness to the hammock bed.

She makes one last knot in the chain...

And then removes the excess cord with the heat gun.

The heat gun makes a clean cut with no ragged edges to unravel.

With high-quality construction, this hammock will surely provide years of relaxation.


Electric Baseboard Heaters
Moulded Pulp Containers
Chicken
Video Games

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

Electric baseboard heaters...

Molded pulp containers...

Prepared chicken...

And video games.

Electric baseboard heaters are inexpensive, easy to install, and practically maintenance-free.

Unlike radiators, they're inconspicuous and they take up very little space.

And best of all, you can control the temperature room by room.

A baseboard heater is simply wires and a heating element in a steel casing.

They make the element using a strip of paper-thin aluminum 7 inches wide.

It's lubricated with soap, then goes through a forming machine.

A die punches the strip into little squares called fins.

They measure half an inch by three-quarters of an inch and have a circle in the middle.

The machine pierces the circles and cuts the fins apart.

This machine churns out 600 fins per minute.

It stacks them on steel tubes, the lengths of which vary according to the length of the heater.

As each tube fills to capacity, a worker takes it away to be wired up.

Elsewhere in the factory, they make the heater's casing using what's known as cold rolled steel, a flexible type of steel that can be worked without using heat.

After a squirt of oil for lubrication, the first die cuts holes for attaching the baseboard to the wall.

Then the second die cuts holes for attaching the heating element to the casing.

Now the steel travels through what's called the roll former-- a machine whose series of rollers successively bend a flat strip of metal, one fold at a time, into the shape of the casing.

From start to finish, 20 rollers make 20 bends.

The process takes about 150 seconds per casing.

After the last fold, a computer-controlled die cuts the casing to the required length.

The higher the heater's wattage, the longer the casing has to be.

Models range from 300 watts--  about 2 feet long-- to 2,500 watts--  about 8 feet long.

Next, they put a steel junction box on each end of the casing.

These hold the wires that the electrician connects to the house wiring.

Workers spot-weld both junction boxes simultaneously.

After a thorough washing, computer-controlled sprayers coat the casings in paint powder.

Then it's into an oven for 20 minutes at 365 degrees fahrenheit.

This transforms the powder to liquid, drying it instantly.

After running a red wire for the electrical current the length of the casing, they rig up what's called a linear high limit temperature control-- a safety device that prevents the unit from overheating and catching fire.

Gas inside the temperature control expands under intense heat, triggering the device to cut the current.

Now they install supports to hold the heating element in place.

They're made of satin-coat steel, a rust-resistant metal.

As the element heats up, it naturally expands.

To prevent it from scratching against the metal casing and making annoying noises, they install a heat-resistant plastic bushing.

Now they connect the red wire that will carry the electrical current to the heating element's black wire, capping it with a wire connector.

They clip it to the cover of the junction box-- easy access for the electrician installing the baseboard.

Then they close the junction box cover.

At the other end, they connect the red wire and the black wire to the temperature-control wire.

This runs the electrical current through the safety device at all times.

After a voltage test, they close it up and snap on a panel to cover the element.

Being toasty warm is now just an installation away.

"molded pulp" isn't exactly a household word.

But it is a household item.

Chances are, you've got an egg carton in your fridge that's made of it.

This thick, cardboardlike material can be shaped into a variety of containers, like those drink carriers they give you at the fast-food restaurants.

Farms ship out their eggs in trays called filler flats.

These flats begin as recycled paper-- old phone books, newspapers, magazines, cardboard-- pretty much any product made of paper fibers.

The factory even recycles its own flats that had been rejected by quality control.

The raw materials go into what's called the pulper-- a giant blender that mashes everything up and blends it with hot water that's 110 to 150 degrees fahrenheit.

The hot water swells the fibers, causing them to break apart.

After 20 minutes, they become pulp, a watery mixture roughly the consistency of hot oatmeal.

The pulp exits out the bottom of the pulper through a filter that screens out plastics and other contaminants.

Shaping the flats is a fully automated process.

Formation molds descend into a vat filled with pulp.

A vacuum sucks the mushy mixture onto them.

Water jets rinse of the excess.

Rotating above are transfer molds.

They grab the flats off the formation molds and move them onto a conveyor.

Before the transfer molds grab the flats, though, a brush applies a water-based lubricant.

This ensures the flats won't stick to the molds.

It's just like greasing a baking pan.

The molds themselves are made of bronze, plastic, or aluminum, depending on how long the factory intends to use them.

They're covered with a stainless-steel mesh.

This mesh ensures an even vacuum through the mold so the pulp spreads over it evenly.

The soggy flats now go into an oven for 12 minutes to dry out.

The 400-degree-fahrenheit heat evaporates the water.

This bonds the fibers together, forming a rigid material.

After they exit the oven, a device appropriately called an up-ender flips them up so that they stack into each other.

A built-in counting mechanism triggers the machine to section off the required number of flats per package...

Then compresses them...

And seals them in plastic film to keep the dust out.

The factory uses the same molding process to make four-cup drink carriers.

These, too, go into an oven to dry out the pulp, but only for six minutes-- half the time the filler flats need because this product is smaller and lighter.

Automated compactors stack the finished drink carriers.

Then workers compress them for packing and shipping.

The factory also makes disposable urinal bottles for hospitals.

They add chemicals to the pulp to make the bottles liquid-tight.

These molds are three-dimensional and lined with mesh on the inside.

When they submerge into the pulp vat, a vacuum sucks in the pulp.

When they resurface, water jets rinse the excess pulp off the bottle necks, and the vacuum sucks out the water.

A spiked conveyor belt transports the bottles to the drying oven.

They dry at a lower temperature than the flats and drink carriers do-- 350-degrees fahrenheit-- and for longer time--  a half-hour.

This ensures the chemicals that make the bottles liquid-tight cure thoroughly.

While urinal bottles can't be recycled for sanitary reasons, drink holders and filler flats are recyclable, making them extremely environmentally friendly.

In the year 2001, the average person ate 61 pounds of chicken.

Given that rate of consumption, if we had to process the poultry ourselves, chances are, we'd be in a rather foul mood by dinner.

Thank goodness for chicken-processing plants.

The chickens arrive at the factory with their feet, legs, and heads already cut off.

What's left are the breasts and wings.

The slaughterhouse also removed the internal organs.

A conveyor belt transports the chickens to the cutting and deboning zone, a bustling assembly-line operation.

Workers prop each chicken on a cone-shaped stand, in order to have both hands free.

Cutting up a chicken properly isn't as easy as you might think.

The workers get special training.

It's crucial they keep their knives well-sharpened and wipe them after every five or so chickens.

The first cuts remove the wings.

Starting on one side and positioning the knife horizontally, in line with the top of the cone, the workers make an incision where the wing joins the shoulder, then cuts downward, across the back of the chicken, then a quick cut and twist to detach the wing.

It's the same procedure on the other wing.

The incisions at the wing/shoulder joint must slice through the tendon completely, otherwise, detaching the wing is difficult.

And struggling with a slippery wing while holding a knife in your hand can result in a serious injury.

The next cuts remove the skin and breasts.

They peel off the skin, then pull on the two breasts, and make a quick incision to release them.

They slice the breasts apart, carefully checking for bones that might have broken off from the carcass and could be hiding in the meat.

The next cuts remove the tenders-- the meat located under the breast.

Workers make an incision in the middle, just under the wishbone, and down the length of the carcass.

This detaches the tenders, enabling the next worker on the line to pull them off.

Meanwhile, waiting in the wings are the wings.

Workers load them onto a machine appropriately called the wing-cutter-- a mini ferris wheel that takes the wings for a little ride, right into a sharp knife that chops them into three sections-- the drumette, the chubby part with the most meat; the winglet, the middle part; and the wing tip, the pointy part with barely any meat.

This factory transforms the meatier drumettes and the winglets into frozen, ready-to-eat chicken wings.

The first step in that process is seasoning.

Workers load the pieces into a giant drum.

As the drum rotates, they inject the seasoning-- barbecue or honey garlic, for instance.

After about an hour, the chicken wings come out evenly coated.

Now these freshly seasoned wings go into a gas-fired oven, where they bake at approximately 480-degrees fahrenheit for 8 to 11 minutes.

They come out fully cooked and ready to eat.

They go into a freezing mechanism for about a half-hour, then to the automated-packaging department, where they're sealed in a bag.

These chicken pieces--  wings, tenders, and breasts-- are prepared differently.

After seasoning, they travel through a rotating drum that coats them in a flour-and-bread-crumb mixture, then into a second drum for a second coat.

Next stop, a 40-second deep fry in canola oil, just long enough to adhere the coating.

Then from the frying pan into the fire, as they say-- well, into the oven, actually.

After 20 minutes at about 480-degrees fahrenheit, these chicken pieces are fully cooked and ready to be frozen and packaged.

They started out a generation ago as simple black-and-white ping-pong games on a tv screen.

Today's video games are vivid, sophisticated, and fast-moving, driven by state-of-the-art computer software featuring the latest in high-tech graphics.

It all started in 1952 with a cambridge university phd thesis on human/computer interaction.

The student invented a primitive tick-tack-toe game on a vacuum-tube computer-- the very first computer game with graphics.

A team at m.i.t. designed the first recognized computer game in 1962.

Then, in 1972, a stanford student invented the arcade game "pong," which later became a home video game you could play on your tv set.

It all begins with the people who form what's called the core team.

They brainstorm in meeting after meeting to hammer out the concept-- how the game will look, how it'll work.

Then they plan out the production schedule, assigning who will do what when.

They break down the game on paper and color-code the components.

Then they post them on a bulletin board that'll act as the production's nerve center.

Now work on the artistic concept begins.

Artists sketch out the characters and backgrounds on paper in a scene-by-scene storyboard.

Meanwhile, graphic artists recreate those storyboard drawings three-dimensionally on the computer.

This step enables the development team to use the latest in computer-animation technology to bring the game elements to life.

They add colors, textures, shading, and of course, movement.

After developing a preliminary version of each character, the animators superimpose a skeleton.

By manipulating the skeleton, they make the character move.

They experiment with different movements until they decide which ones they'll use for the game.

The animators have to design every movement each character can potentially make in the game.

That's 700 movements for this main character alone.

Once that's done, they flesh out the character's features and costumes.

The evolution of the characters from the first pencil drawing to the final version is quite remarkable.

Other animators work on the backgrounds, the game's playing field.

Once they have a rough version laid out, they refine it by adding details, colors, and textures.

To give it depth and dimension, they use virtual lighting to create shading and shadows.

To advance the story line, this particular video game is interspersed with one-minute animated movies.

These segments, called cinematics, are animated in high-resolution to produce a top-quality image.

The interactive game, on the other hand, is in low resolution because computers can't process high-res images quickly enough for fast-moving play.

The animators have to create every character twice, in both high and low resolution.

Meanwhile, for the cinematics, they animate the storyboard using rough-draft characters.

This is simply to calculate the timing and to map out a clear path across the backgrounds so the characters don't collide with the scenery.

To make the cinematic's action look realistic, they use a technique called motion capture.

The animators videotape themselves performing the action, then use animation software to reproduce it on the computer.

Computer programmers create the video game's menu settings, among other features.

Computer engineers design the artificial intelligence, the brain that runs the game.

It's made up of thousands of computer codes.

For the cinematics, actors record the characters' lines in a sound studio.

An audio technician mixes the voices with music and sound effects and synchronizes everything with the action.

Now they take the video game out for a test-drive.

Do the characters move the way they're supposed to?

Do they go where they're supposed to?

Or do they run into trees and walk through walls?

This is the development team's last chance to rid the games of any bugs.

After that, the company can finally market the video game and hope it becomes a hit.


Flying Water Bikes
Throttle Position Sensors
Cinnamon Cordial
Handmade Rasps

Looking to get high on a new water sport?

Well, you literally can riding a flying water bike.

It attaches with a long hose to the back of a jet ski, elevating you up to almost 40 feet above the water where you can perform aerial flips and spins.

The jet ski's water thrust feeds three jet nozzles on the flying water bike.

One propels the bike upward.

The other two feed jet control nozzles that maneuver the bike.

The bike's frame is made out of aluminum parts because it has to be lightweight as well as relatively corrosion-resistant, especially if it is going to be used in saltwater.

This curved tube will become the lifting jet.

To build each jet control nozzle, a worker places a housing on an alignment fixture then hammers an endcap into position.

Holding the housing steady with a clamp, the worker welds on the endcap.

This housing will cover the bushing at the heart of the jet-control nozzle.

He inserts an elbow into the opening in the endcap and welds the parts together.

After welding a jet nozzle cone to the other end of the elbow, he welds a handlebar to the housing.

These five welded parts make up the body of the first jet control nozzle.

To prep for painting, the manufacturers rough up all the aluminum parts by tumbling them with abrasive stones.

This component splits the portion of the water thrust that bypasses the lifting jet, sending it in opposite directions to the jet control nozzles.

The lifting jet tube now has a nozzle cone welded to one end, a coupling for attaching the fire hose to the other, and an oval hole in the curve, which aligns with the angled end of a straight tube in the middle, called the backbone.

After positioning parallel support bars between the lifting jet and the splitter, the welder fuses all the parts together.

Then he flips the assembly jig and welds on the seat support.

The seat support attaches where the lifting jet and backbone meet.

After masking the ends of the splitter, a worker sprays the completed frame, jet control nozzles and other aluminum parts with powder coat.

This helps protect against corrosion.

The parts go into an oven for up to a half hour to bake the powder coat to a shiny finish.

Then workers install an aluminum camlock to securely fasten the fire hose to the coupling.

Another worker attaches the remaining components to the frame.

First, he screws in the pair of footplates on which the rider stands.

Then he bolts the bottom half of each plate to the parallel support bars and the top half to just ahead of the camlock.

He mounts a padded knee rest to the support bars.

It can be easily repositioned to accommodate the rider's height.

On each unpainted end of the splitter, he installs an internal support ring, then a precision-fit nylon bushing and an external support ring, which he screws to the splitter.

The worker slides the jet control nozzle housing over the bushing and screws it to the internal support ring.

The two control nozzles maneuver the water bike.

To ascend, you pull back gradually on both of them, simultaneously.

To descend, you push forward on both.

To spin, you move one forward and one back.

And to do a backflip, you yank both control nozzles all the way back.

He assembles the water bike's body.

It's made of molded polyethylene with a waterproof urethane pad to cushion the front of the rider's body.

The seat is made of the same padded material.

Both pad and seat attach with plastic clips.

The hollow body is completely watertight, which is why the bike floats.

The final step is to mate the body to the frame.

The completed water bicycle weighs 30 pounds.

Once connected to a jet ski with the fire hose, this water bike flies at a speed of up to 20 miles per hour.

By maneuvering the jet nozzles, it does backflips, multiple spins, and even dives 20 feet underwater.

A throttle position sensor reports the position of the throttle plate to the engine computer so that it can decide how much fuel to inject into the engine and many other things.

Without this critical sensor, the ratio of the air-fuel mix would be compromised, and the engine would likely stall.

In internal combustion engines, the throttle position sensor is on constant alert, sending the necessary power demands to ensure a smooth ride.

Making these sensors starts with printed circuit boards.

These boards will ultimately process physical data and convert this into information the engine computer will understand.

A robot transfers the boards to a conveyor which takes them to a solder screen printer.

The printer squeegees solder through a stencil to deposit it in specific locations on the boards.

The squeegee and stencil then retract, and the conveyor shoves the boards forward to the next operation.

Here, a robot retrieves electronic components from tape on a reel and deposits them on the soldered spots on the boards.

It collects multiple parts from the reel at one time and installs them on the boards faster than you can blink an eye.

Moving forward, the printed circuit boards arrive at a camera station.

The camera clicks away and sends pictures of the boards to a computer.

The computer analyzes the placement of each component.

With the computer's okay, the boards head into an oven with different heating zones.

The oven melts the solder and then cools it down to fuse the components to the boards.

The oven then ejects the sensor boards.

Next, a technician serves them up to automated test probes.

The probes energize the components on the boards and, in the process, collect information.

They send the data to a computer, which analyzes the function of the components on the board and to make sure they're fully operational.

Then the boards move to a pneumatic punch.

It separates the 18 sensor circuit boards by cutting the tabs that hold them together.

A worker assembles a metal spring to a plastic magnet holder.

He places a high-wear washer over the neck the magnet holder.

Then he inserts the magnet holder assembly into the throttle-sensor housing and places the unit in a tray.

After glue has been injected in the holders, a robot moves in.

It scans the holders and confirms that there is glue in each cavity.

It then inserts magnets in the holders.

A worker installs a torsion spring in the housing.

It will hold the magnet holder tight to the throttle body.

He now inserts the printed circuit boards into the sensor housings.

Terminals in the housings mate to slots in the boards.

He solders the terminals to the boards to establish the connections.

All the parts are now in place for throttle position sensing.

A worker places covers over the sensor board compartments.

An ultrasonic welder then melts the plastic at the interfaces.

Once it hardens, the weld bonds the cover to the sensor body.

A robot pipes silicone adhesive on the welded seam to create a double layer of protection.

The sensors ride on a conveyor that goes through an oven.

This cures both the silicone on the welded seam and the glue inside to secure the magnet to the holder.

Out of the oven, the sensors travel through a cooling station.

Probes then power the devices and calibrate them for use in specific vehicles.

A robot holds the sensor in front of a laser, which etches the date of manufacture.

Back on a conveyor, the throttle position sensor travels under a magnifying glass so that the laser-etching job can be scrutinized.

This throttle position sensor is now ready for detection duty.

Cinnamon cordial marries the pungent flavor of one of our favorite spices with alcohol.

Think of it as the liqueur equivalent of a cinnamon bun.

On its own or as in ingredient in a specialty drink, cinnamon cordial can add some serious spice to cocktail hour.

Cinnamon cordial is the distilled spirit that is both sweet and spicy.

It's this complexity of flavor that is at that heart of its appeal.

This particular cinnamon cordial starts with a blend of california grape brandy that's been aged for 2 years.

The distiller measures the amount the recipe calls for and pours the brandy into the main production vessel.

He then pumps neutral grain spirits out of a big holding tank and into the measuring bucket.

This spirit is 190 proof, which means that it is 95 percent alcohol.

He adds it to the grape brandy.

Together, the brandy and the neutral spirits will serve as the alcohol base for the cinnamon cordial.

The brandy contributes color and a little flavor while the clear spirits add potency.

Next up are the spices that provide a first layer of flavor.

Using a scale, the distiller measures the amounts for the recipe, beginning with whole coriander, a spice that will impart a citrusy zest to the cinnamon cordial.

The next ingredient is cloves.

This spice has a sweet and peppery essence.

Finally, he adds dry bay leaves.

He crumbles them to release their herbal fragrance.

These three spices will ultimately provide background flavor, while the cinnamon that's to be added later will be the main event.

The distiller reopens the production tank and drapes a mesh nylon sachet over the opening.

He pours the carefully measured spices into the bag, and they become immersed in the alcohol.

He draws the bag of spices shut and leaves it in the alcohol for 2 weeks.

During this time, the alcohol extracts flavors from the spices.

Staying true to the recipe is critical.

Adding too much of one spice or leaving the spices in the alcohol for too long could ruin the batch.

After steeping, the liqueur is ready for the cinnamon spice.

He adds two kinds-- cassia, which is from indonesia, china, and vietnam, and ceylon cinnamon, which originates in sri lanka.

He breaks up the cinnamon tree bark to increase the surface area for steeping.

He also adds two different powdered cinnamons for extra flavor and color.

He now makes simple syrup from organic sugar and water and adds it to the mixture.

This syrup provides sweetness and dilutes the alcohol content substantially, bringing it down to 68 proof.

He leaves the blend to steep for a week.

During this time, he samples the beverage daily to confirm that the drink is developing correctly and that the cinnamon flavor is properly balanced.

The color change during this week is dramatic, and it's an indication of the cordial's deepening flavor.

When the taste and color seem just right, he removes the spices and pumps the cinnamon cordial into 25-ounce bottles.

This bottling system is equipped with a filter to remove any impurities.

Once full, he corks the bottle.

Using a special labeling machine, he rolls on the label that identifies the product for marketing.

He then heat-shrinks a plastic seal around the cork.

He puts a signature on it, and this cinnamon cordial is ready for the cocktail circuit.

Tour the workshop of a cabinetmaker or woodcarver, and you're sure to come across a collection of rasps.

A rasp is a hand tool with teeth that you push forward with pressure over wood to shape it.

Rasps come in various textures, called grains, ranging from coarse to fine.

Machine-made rasps may suffice for hobbyists, but fine woodworking requires premium rasps like these, which are made entirely by hand.

A rasp starts out as a steel bar, called a blank.

First, a worker heats one end of the blank in an oven at a temperature of approximately 1,500 degrees fahrenheit.

When the steel glows somewhere between orange and red, he immediately cuts the end to a crude point with a press.

Then he places the end under a spring hammer which strikes it repeatedly against a die, forging the crude point to a refined one.

After repeating these steps on the opposite end...

He inserts the blank into a shearing machine.

This cuts across the middle, dividing the blank into two flat rasps, each with a pointed end and a flat end.

The worker puts the flat end into the oven.

Once it reaches working temperature, he places it in a press.

The first strike tapers the end.

The second cuts off steel to form the tool's handle, called the tang.

The rasp shape is fully forged.

An experienced craftsman now begins refining it.

First, he runs it against a grinding wheel to remove excess steel.

Because steel warps in the forging process, he hammers along the tang, point, and length to straighten the rasp.

This step is critical for structural strength because if the grain of the steel isn't perfectly straight, the rasp will warp when the craftsman later hardens the steel by tempering.

Once the rasp is straight, he grinds the flat surfaces on a grinding belt.

Then he returns to the grinding wheel to remove excess steel around the point.

By the time he completes this step, the point is transformed from this to this.

After additional grinding to polish away the marks, it's time to give the rasp some teeth.

This process, known as stitching the rasp, is a highly specialized skill that requires exceptional dexterity.

The stitchers form every single tooth by hand with a single hammer strike on a punch.

The punch shape and size determines the tooth shape and size.

The hammer size determines tooth height.

A heavier hammer forces the punch deeper into the steel, forming a taller tooth.

The larger and deeper the teeth, the coarser the grain of the rasp.

The artisans stitch the rasp a quarter section at a time to set the teeth at the proper angle.

The tooth angle differs when they're making a left-hand rasp versus a right-hand rasp.

The expert craftsman now hammers a slight curve back into the rasp.

If left straight, it would curve when they temper it.

By preemptively curving it, the rasp will straighten when tempered.

He submerges the rasp in a molten salt bath inside the tempering furnace.

Salt prevents contact with oxygen, which burns off the carbon in the steel, thus destroying its properties.

After removing the rasp from the salt bath, he gradually cools it in a quenching tank filled with saltwater.

Cooling steel at just the right speed and direction is critical.

Too slow, it doesn't harden sufficiently.

Too fast, it twists or warps.

He does a final straightening in a press.

The final operation is a very soft sandblasting.

This removes residue from the salt bath and transforms the surface from shiny to matte.

These handmade rasps come in a multitude of shapes and 15 different grains ranging from coarse to fine, so the woodworker can always select the right rasp for the task.