Traffic Signal Poles
Coffee Filters
Chainsaw Mining Machines

Traffic-signal poles must be strong enough to bear the weight of road signs, street lights, and, of course, traffic signals.

The poles are also built to withstand extreme weather conditions, such as high winds and heavy snow accumulation.

Traffic signal poles are made of high-strength steel.

Years of weather exposure can cause corrosion, so the poles are galvanized on both sides for protection.

Each pole has a welded plate to connect it to a perpendicular pole.

The poles are made out of these steel sheets.

The steel arrives at the factory in one large roll.

They use a decoiler to unwind the sheet and flatten it out.

Then a shear cuts it to the correct length.

A computer-guided plasma cutter marks short lines on both ends of the sheet.

These lines indicate where to bend the flat sheet to form a round pole.

The machine cuts the sheet into a rectangular shape, or a trapezoid shape if the pole will taper at the top.

Workers number the machine lines with chalk, giving lines directly opposite of each other the same number.

Then they transfer the sheet to a bending machine called a press brake.

The press brake bends the sheet along the marked line to a preprogrammed angle.

Workers use a digital measuring device to make sure the first bend is accurate.

If it is, they continue bending along the remainder of the lines, transforming the flat sheet into a multisided round pole.

Now the pole moves to a welding station, where hydraulic rollers apply pressure from both sides.

This forces the edges of the sheet together so that a welding head can fuse the seam with molten steel.

At the same time, the head deposits a granular powder called flux, which prevents air from penetrating the weld and weakening it.

Workers place the pole in a hydraulic press so it doesn't warp as the seam weld cools and shrinks.

Next, a computer-guided plasma machine cuts a connection plate out of thick steel.

The machine also drills holes for the high-strength bolts needed to attach the plate to the traffic-signal pole.

Workers center the connection plate on support plates they've already welded to the pole.

Then they weld everything in place.

Next, workers weld a baseplate to the bottom of the pole.

It has holes for the anchor bolts, which are used for securing the traffic signal to the street.

Workers inspect the welds with a testing device.

It uses an electric current to magnetically draw colored powder into any defective area.

The factory ships the finished poles to a galvanizing plant, where they're dipped in a series of wash tanks.

The plant's tanks are deep enough to fully submerge the poles so they can treat both the inner and outer surface at the same time.

Now the poles go into a vat of sulfuric acid.

This bath dissolves the more stubborn contaminants that washing can't remove.

The next tank contains a chemical that weakens the surface of the poles.

This allows the galvanizing metal to penetrate the steel, rather than sit on the surface.

The final tank contains molten zinc.

As the poles bathe in the 842-degree zinc, workers in fire-protection suits skim the surface to remove iron oxide and ash that floats to the top.

This keeps the freshly galvanized surface clean as the poles are hoisted out of the tank and set aside to cool.

Because they're galvanized rather than painted, these poles are able to support traffic lights, signs, and street lamps for 40 years or more.

In 1908, a german housewife came up with a solution to get rid of bitter-tasting sediment in her coffee.

She punched nail holes in a pot and covered them with blotting paper.

Then she placed ground coffee on the paper and filled the pot with hot water.

It worked so well that she started selling her coffee filters worldwide.

These coffee filters are made of 100% cellulose fiber harvested from slow-growing pine and spruce trees in the forests of southern scandinavia.

The raw material produces paper that lets about 3 ounces of water pass through it in approximately 40 seconds.

That's the optimal saturation rate for producing good coffee.

30% of the paper's cellulose content is left over from earlier production.

The other 70% is raw cellulose fiber.

The materials go into a machine called a pulper, which works like a giant food processor.

It blends the raw materials with hot water, making a fiber soup called pulp.

A paper-making machine spreads a one-inch layer of pulp across a wire-mesh belt.

Water jets cut a straight edge on both sides.

As moisture drains down through the belt, the pulp forms a soggy sheet of paper.

It has a water content of 80%.

All this happens at an astounding pace.

The machine lays down 1,300 feet of pulp a minute.

At the next station, heavy compression rollers squeeze almost half the water out of the paper.

A tool applies a crepe texture.

This increases the surface area of the paper and improves filtration speed.

Next, they use 38 steam-heated rollers to dry the paper completely.

The rollers' surface temperatures are around 250 degrees.

As the finished paper exits the machine, a camera registers the location of holes, dirt, or other defects that have to be cut out.

It takes the machine 45 minutes to produce an 11-mile-long sheet of coffee-filter paper.

The roll is transferred to a cutting machine.

The paper is sliced into two-foot rolls so it can fit in the filter-making machine.

Sensors in the filter-making machine make sure the paper is aligned correctly.

At the machine's first station, tiny needles pierce holes in the paper to enhance the quality of filtration.

At the next station, a stamp imprints the company logo in the paper.

A knife slices the paper in half, creating two side-by-side production lines from this point forward.

Each line enters a folding station, where guides fold the flat sheet in half.

A roller embosses a seam connecting the two layers of paper along the bottom and side.

Then a second roller cuts the conical shape of the filter.

The machine produces 4,000 filters per minute.

The next station cuts the filters apart and collects the leftover paper, which will be recycled into pulp.

The filters are sent to an automatic counting machine that divides them into stacks of 80.

The machine feeds the stacks to the packaging line.

An automated packaging machine aligns each stack with a flattened box.

Then it opens the box with a vacuum and inserts the filters.

If the machine's sensor detects a problem, like filters in the wrong position or missing filters, it ejects that box from the line.

This factory produces a few different types of filters.

How the cellulose is processed in the pulper determines how the filter will perform.

For example, the factory processes cellulose finely to make filters designed to brew strong coffee.

Fine cellulose produces paper that drains slowly, keeping the water and coffee beans together longer, resulting in a stronger flavor.

Chainsaw mining machines are among the largest and heaviest chainsaws in the world.

They're used in rock quarries to cut and extract some of the toughest materials on earth.

The machine's massive blade can make both vertical and horizontal cuts, slicing through hard stone as if it were butter.

Hundreds of feet underground, this monster chainsaw is carving through geological deposits of marble.

The chainsaw arm can rotate to make both horizontal and vertical cuts as needed.

It cuts uniform blocks of marble.

Then a loader extracts the blocks from the rock face.

They're the exact size the customer requested, thanks to the precision and power of the chainsaw mining machine.

It takes several steel tubes of various dimensions to make a chainsaw mining machine.

They use an automated saw to cut the tubes to the correct length.

This one will be used for the chassis.

They assemble the tubes in the correct configuration.

Then a worker joins them with welds.

They lower the completed chassis onto the chainsaw machine tracks.

The chassis is bolted to the fifth-wheel coupling.

This allows the machine to rotate 360 degrees.

They bring in the framework that will house the motors, oil tank, and electrical components.

They bolt the framework to the chassis.

The next part is a rail system for raising and lowering the chainsaw blade.

A worker attaches the rail system to the chassis using a thick pin.

This pin acts as a hinge, allowing the vertical structure to be folded down when needed.

After verifying that the machine's basic framework fits together well, they take it apart for painting.

They also paint the gear motors.

This one will power the carriage that moves the blade back and forth.

Once all the parts have been painted, they reassemble the framework.

Next, they mount the carriage to the front of the machine.

It rotates within the vertical rail to position the blade for cutting.

Workers then install the gear motor that powers the horizontal movement of the chainsaw blade.

They secure it with several bolts.

Two more gear motors will drive the cutting chain and rotate the blade.

The team mounts them to the front of the carriage, to the right of the other gear motor.

At the back of the carriage, a worker assembles a gear known as a pinion.

The pinion engages with a track called the rack.

This rack-and-pinion system allows the carriage to slide back and forth.

A worker folds hydraulic hoses in a long metal cage and bolts the cage to the front of the machine.

Then he connects the cutting-chain hoses to the motor, protecting the connections with metal half-flanges.

They make all the electrical connections...

Then screw fireproof and waterproof covers onto the electronics boxes.

They program the chainsaw machine's operator screen.

Stay tuned, because the big chainsaw blade is next.

Few things are as fierce as the blade of a stonecutting chainsaw machine.

It's 10 feet long, weighs over 1,300 pounds, and has big teeth that make cutting through solid rock look easy.

It's no surprise that making one of these giant blades is a huge job.

A computer-driven plasma flame cuts a large blade from a sheet of high-carbon steel.

Using a crane with a powerful magnet, they transfer the chainsaw blade to a milling station.

Here, computerized tools smooth out the steel.

They also bring the blade to the correct width and carve channels for lubrication tubes.

They drill holes for metal plates that will align the cutting chain.

The team paints the saw and adds an attachment bar, then mounts it to the front of the chainsaw machine.

They slide the bar into the blade support on the front.

It's a critical connection because it bears the weight of the heavy blade as it saws through stone.

They secure it to the blade support with a thick pin and a nut.

Next, they make the cutting-chain sprocket.

A computer-guided tool carves toothlike projections around the rim of a steel disk.

These teeth are designed to grab the links of the cutting chain.

The sprocket is ready to be mounted to the chainsaw machine.

An employee slides the sprocket onto a shaft protruding from the cutting-chain gear motor.

He bolts the disk to the surrounding hub.

Next, they assemble the cutting chain.

A two-part fastener system holds the links together.

It starts with this hollow pin.

A worker drives the hollow pin into a hole in the links using a hydraulic press.

He inserts an l-shaped pin into the hollow pin.

The tongue of the l-shaped pin fits into a groove adjacent to the hollow pin.

The press forces the l-shaped pin into the groove.

He alternates outer links and inner ones to build a 30-foot chain that will fit to the saw body.

Then another worker loops it around the saw blade and sprocket.

The chain fits perfectly to the saw.

He joins the ends of the chain with a hollow pin and an l-shaped pin to complete the loop.

He flattens them with a hammer instead of a press because it's easier to use a hammer at this angle.

The chain is in place, but it doesn't have the teeth it needs to cut stone yet.

These parts, a carrier and a tungsten carbide cutting bit, give the blade its cutting edge.

He places a set on each of the chain's outer links...

Then screws them in.

Studded with tough, sharp teeth, this mega chainsaw is now ready for rock-cutting action.

It cuts through stone cleanly and efficiently.

Its size and power make it a force to be reckoned with underground.

Despite its bulky frame, this chainsaw mining machine has a wide range of motion.

Here, the front carriage rotates the blade to demonstrate how it can be repositioned between cuts.

No matter how you slice it...

That's pretty impressive.


Flight Simulators
Bookbinding
Greenhouse Tomatoes
Hurricane

Most hands-on pilot training occurs not in the air, but on the ground.

The classroom in which this instruction takes place is a flight simulator-- a high-tech replica of the aircraft cockpit.

Through the magic of sophisticated computer software, the simulator mimics the process and feel of flying the aircraft.

The flight simulator can produce darkness or daylight, clear or stormy weather, or an emergency such as engine failure or a runway tire blowout.

Simulators are modeled after specific aircraft, such as a boeing 737.

The simulator manufacturer buys the technical data from the aircraft manufacturer so it can build a cockpit which is an exact replica in both look and feel.

After assembling a steel frame and building the instructor's station behind the cockpit, they mount a sound system beneath the cockpit.

This enables crew communication and produces realistic aircraft and weather sounds.

A computer-driven image generator produces the cockpit view on a large, spherical mirror made of a thin polyester film.

A vacuum pump sucks it flat and wrinkle-free.

The image reflecting on the mirror creates the illusion of the infinite view pilots have in a real aircraft.

The image generator doesn't send the visuals directly to the spherical mirror facing the pilots.

A projector first shoots the image onto a flat, rectangular mirror that reflects the image onto a front projection screen-- that round part at the top.

The image on the projection screen then reflects in the spherical mirror in front of the pilots.

This diagram illustrates how the image travels.

Technicians prepare the cockpit throttles, adjusting the lever tension to be identical to that of the real aircraft.

Inside each throttle, they check the thrust reverser that pilots activate upon touchdown to reverse air flow and stop the plane.

Next come the control panels, with all the buttons and switches to operate everything from the engines to the air-conditioning to the lights.

Next, the motion actuators-- giant legs which move the cockpit.

They attach to a concrete slab with jumbo bolts.

Technicians attach conduits through which electrical cables and air hoses run to the actuators.

The motion is electropneumatic, meaning that air assists the electric motor that moves the legs.

To attach the actuators, technicians activate the brake inside each one.

This enables the leg to stretch far enough to reach the base.

After checking the alignment with this tool...

They insert a pin.

Then they test the movement of the entire apparatus.

The test pilot runs the finished flight simulator through different maneuvers to ensure it performs perfectly.

The image generator is run by highly sophisticated software.

It knows the design of every airport in the world, enabling the instructor to conjure up any scenario imaginable...

Takeoffs, landings, and taxiing at a specific airport, any weather conditions or runway hazards, or any unforeseen events, such as a blackout that plunges the entire airport into darkness.

Faking it doesn't get any more real than this.

Today's books are mass-produced by automated equipment, but before the industry was mechanized, book pages were hand-bound, their covers meticulously hand-crafted one at a time by talented book binders.

This skilled trade still exists, but is now a specialty service.

Book binders are part artist, part restorer, because they craft new bindings, yet also repair originals.

Before rebinding a book, the book binder has to unbind it.

She uses a surgical scalpel to cut the strands of old binding thread.

This separates the covers and the sections of assembled paged, called signatures.

Using a paper cutter, she trims the components just enough to make their edges neat and smooth.

Then she positions the signatures in a vice, sandwiched between cardboard for support.

She draws lines across what will be the spine of the book.

Then she carefully saws a groove in each line.

The groove is just big enough to fit a piece of hemp binding cord.

One at a time, she reconnects the signatures on a sewing frame.

The frame has binding cords that correspond to the grooves she sawed into the signatures.

She sews a linen thread horizontally, looping it around the cords.

A chain stitch on each end links each signature to the neighboring one.

When she's done, she coats the sewn area with glue.

She then lays a thin cloth backing over the glue, then closes the vice tightly to round the back and form joints into which the book's covers will fit.

She perfects the joints using a hammer.

Next, she weaves the binding's headband by wrapping threads around support sticks in a specific pattern.

She does this on both the top and bottom of what will be the book's spine.

Next, by folding and gluing pieces of paper, she constructs a tube the exact width and length of the spine.

She glues the tube to the spine.

Now for the book's front cover.

She layers pieces of cardboard to create a design, then glues it onto a rectangular piece of leather.

She presses the leather against the cardboard with a plastic tool called a bone folder.

Next, she cuts a strip of thick paper the width of the book spine and glues small bands across it.

Then she glues this onto the leather, right next to the cardboard.

Using the bone folder again, she presses the leather down.

After adding a second cardboard for the back cover, she glues and folds over the edges.

Then she makes two swift incisions to remove a triangle of leather.

This produces perfect corners every time.

Next step-- to embellish the cover and spine with gold-embossed decorations and lettering.

She lays down a sheet of genuine gold foil and hot-stamps the design onto the surface.

After attaching the bound pages with leather hinges that match the cover, the book binder applies the finishing touch-- decorative paper on the inside covers.

From such traditional styles to ultramodern fish-skin bindings, it's hard not to judge these books by their covers.

Some of the finest tomatoes come not from the field, but from the greenhouse.

When cultivating tomatoes indoors, producers can strictly control the growing conditions, so greenhouse tomatoes are more uniform in size, shape, and color than field-grown tomatoes.

Some would argue that they taste better, too.

This company grows large cluster type and smaller cocktail-size tomatoes.

It also produces a kit containing tomatoes, a pouch of italian spices, and a bruschetta recipe.

In this hydroponic greenhouse, the tomato plants grow in a substrate rather than soil.

The substrate is a block of coconut-shell fibers that retains and drains water very well.

Greenhouse workers mix fertilizer primarily out of powdered iron and calcium nitrate.

They dissolve these and additional chemicals in water, which they then dilute and store in tanks.

Computerized fertilizer injectors shoot controlled amounts of the solution directly into the irrigation-system water supply.

A new tomato plant takes 30 to 55 days to blossom, then another 8 weeks to produce fully ripened fruit.

Each plant receives up to one gallon of fertilized water per day via an irrigation dripper.

The irrigation system collects whatever the plant doesn't absorb, mixes it with fresh water, adjusts the fertilization, then re-feeds it to the plants.

The task of pollination is left to a resident colony of bumblebees.

The plants grow at an astounding rate of 8 to 12 inches per week.

To train them upright so they won't get tangled with neighboring plants, workers twist each one around a nylon cord every week.

Tomato plants grow to a height of more than 36 feet.

That's taller than the greenhouse, which is why, once a week, workers lower the plants by 8 inches.

The lowering process also lines them up at the same height, which makes harvesting much easier.

The greenhouse temperature is 70 to 77 degrees fahrenheit during the day and 54 to 61 degrees at night.

Artificial lighting simulates 18-hour stretches of sunshine.

Thanks to these controlled growing conditions, greenhouse tomato plants, unlike field plants, are in continuous bloom.

Every week, a new cluster appears at the top of each plant, while a cluster at the bottom is ready for picking.

In its one-year lifetime, a tomato plant yields some 200 large tomatoes or 500 cocktail tomatoes.

As conveyor belts move the tomatoes through the packaging area, workers separate the green ones from the ripe ones.

Each shipping box must contain 11 pounds.

Workers place the box on a tray scale and clusters of tomatoes on digital scales above it.

A computer calculates which combination of clusters would total the target weight, then illuminates the light under those clusters to tell the packer which ones to put in the box.

Once filled, the box is passed through an automated labeling machine.

A camera takes a photo of the configuration, then guides an applicator to slap a code sticker on every tomato.

Besides selling bulk tomatoes in the bruschetta kit, this company packages cocktail tomatoes in two formats-- loose and still on the vine...

Giving greenhouse-tomato lovers a few tasty options.

Hurricane-proof shutters prevent violent winds and flying debris from shattering windows.

Not only can breaking glass cause injury and let winds enter and wreak destruction inside, but the difference between indoor and outdoor air pressure can cause the roof and walls to collapse.

Roll-down shutters move vertically...

Whereas accordion shutters consist of two sections that move sideways.

To make the accordion style, they cut stacks of blades to the height of the customer's window.

Blades are interlocking aluminum strips manufactured for the shutter factory by a supplier.

Workers assemble enough to build two shutter sections that cover the width of the window.

These two sections are called vertical stacks.

They punch holes in the last blade of each stack for a locking mechanism.

These two blades are called center mates because they overlap at the center of the window and lock together.

They slide each center mate into its respective vertical stack.

The next step is attaching nylon bushings and wheels, which ride in horizontal tracks installed at the top and bottom of the window opening.

Each center mate has vertical locking pins.

Activated by a thumbscrew, these pins slide through a hole in the track to lock the shutter open or closed.

The horizontal slats of a roll-down shutter are made of the same material as the accordion shutter's vertical blades.

After cutting the slats to the width of the customer's window, workers assemble enough to cover the window's height.

These slats have a different type of interlock than the accordion shutter blades, but they connect the same way.

The tongue edge of one blade slides into the groove edge of the next.

Nylon locks prevent the slats from disconnecting.

After hammering the locks into place, they crimp the edge of each slat.

The connected slats will later be coiled around a motorized tube inside the shutter's aluminum housing.

A technician installs a ball-bearing assembly in one side of that housing...

Then a safety plate to prevent the slat roll from shifting sideways.

On the other side, they install a plate with protruding screws to which they mount the motor.

Next, they install a safety plate to prevent the slats from catching on the motor's power cord.

On each end of the motor, they fit spacers...

Then, over the motor, a roller tube.

They insert a connecting shaft, which attaches the tube to the ball-bearing assembly on the other side.

All these steps assemble a motorized axle around which the roll of slats will wrap.

Once a quality-control check ensures it operates flawlessly...

They close off the back of the housing with an aluminum cover.

Working from the front of the housing, they rivet plastic rings along the length of the tube.

These help muffle the noise the slats make as they roll and unroll.

Workers rivet slat hangers to the roller tube.

They slide the first slat onto these hangers.

Then they slide the slat roll onto that first slat.

The slat edges run in vertical side rails, which installers mount in the window opening.

Now for a last round of quality-control testing.

Workers lift and lower the shutter in manual mode, as well as by remote control.

When everything works perfectly, the shutters are subjected to one final test to ensure they can handle everything that a hurricane can muster.


Barber Chairs
Sewage Pumps
Bimini Boat Tops
Diesel Filters

The reclining barber chair was invented in america in 1878.

At the time, it was a grooming breakthrough.

With a chair that leaned back and moved forward, the barber could shave the customer with greater precision, and when wielding a straight-edged razor, precision is definitely a good thing.

The barber chair is the original easy chair.

Just sit back and enjoy the recline.

The client doesn't need to position himself for a shave.

The chair does all the moving.

It even lifts and swivels.

Production starts with the base of the chair.

An employee places a flat, round piece of steel in a two-part die.

The die comes together and applies pressure to take the steel from flat to domed.

The domed chair base then spins as an abrasive wheel etches a brushed finish onto the surface.

Next, the worker tucks the end of a strip of steel between rollers and turns them to curl the steel into a sleeve for the hydraulic chair lift.

He slides a piece of plastic into grooves on the ends to close the steel sleeve.

Then he slides it onto the chair lift pump.

He places a large trim ring on the end of the pump and sets the domed chair base on top.

Screws secure the base and chair-lift assembly.

With the assembly now right-side-up, he attaches a u-shaped foot pedal to the pump.

Production then moves to the construction of the actual seat.

The worker glues several sheets of russian birch and staples them together.

She continues to layer until the birch is nearly an inch thick.

The last layer is thick plywood.

It's been cut to accommodate a steel frame.

She glues and staples the plywood to the layered birch.

Then it's into a press for the chair's seat, back, and arms.

It bends the parts to a gentle curvature that will make the chair more comfortable to sit in.

With a hot stamp, the worker brands the company name and logo into vinyl upholstery.

He places the wood chair back into a bed of cushy foam.

He pulls the edges of the foam tightly to the wood and staples it.

He trims the excess.

He covers the chair back with the pre-sewn vinyl upholstery, and it's a snug fit.

Next, he gets a hand from a pneumatic device.

It holds the chair part in place as he staples the upholstery to it.

He trims the vinyl for a clean edge.

He checks the fit, and, once satisfied, he moves on to the chair arms.

He locks an arm in a clamp and installs the chrome end piece.

The chrome resists wear better than vinyl does-- important on this gripping part.

The crew attaches the steel chair frame to the underside of the upholstered seat.

They screw the arms onto the frame.

They install the pneumatic mechanism that makes the chair recline.

They screw the upholstered chair back to the steel frame and link the recliner mechanism to it.

They test the recline and incline functions.

The footrest is next.

They then pump up the lift shaft and transfer the upholstered chair to it.

They close the back of the chair with an upholstered panel, and finally, they give the customer a place to rest his head.

With the headrest installed, this barber chair is ready for customers.

Time spent reclining in it will no doubt leave the client looking and feeling refreshed.

A sewage pump is part of an underground operation to dispose of human waste.

It is essential equipment when sewage must be pumped to a septic system or sewer line at a higher underground location.

Working below the surface, sewage pumps take care of unpleasant business.

When it comes to sewage, people understandably prefer to flush and forget.

The sewage pump helps make that possible.

It is the number-one way to move waste.

When the sewage reaches a certain level upon discharge, the pump's floating sensor activates a switch to start pumping.

Then it's on its way to a septic system or sewer line, ensuring that sewage receives the necessary treatment.

They make the sewage-pump housing from a rugged cast iron.

A chain conveyor takes the housing parts for a rinse and an application of a chemical that slightly etches the surface in preparation for finishing.

The journey continues through a big dryer that removes residual moisture.

The parts now head into the spray booth for a finish that will protect the surface.

The conveyor delivers a negative charge to the parts, causing the positively charged powder finish to gravitate to them.

It completely coats the parts, and they travel through an oven to bake on the powder finish.

Next, workers move the pump-housing units across to a spinning, abrasive disk.

This grinds the edges flat to allow for a tight seal to other parts.

Here's the housing before grinding, and here it is after.

He places a gauge under the part in several places to ensure that it's completely even.

Next, a tool machines the part of the housing that holds the stator, the stationary part of the motor.

It carves the opening so that the stator will fit to it and also align next to the motor housing.

Using a drill press, a worker cuts a thread into another part of the pump.

This will allow it to connect to a discharge pipe.

The parts are now ready for assembly.

A worker presses the carbon half of a seal for the rotor shaft into place.

He lubricates the rotor shaft and inserts it into the pump housing.

A blast of compressed air removes any contaminants.

And he installs the ceramic half of the rotor-shaft seal.

Next, he screws the impeller to the rotor shaft.

The impeller will move sewage from the pumping chamber to the discharge pipe.

He installs an o-ring around the opening to the motor.

He inserts the stator...

And screws it into place.

He connects lead wires to terminals in the motor housing and sets it in place.

He runs the power cord through the motor housing and tightens a seal around the cord.

He attaches a metal guard to give the pump float adequate clearance, then seals the motor housing and wires the pump switch.

He screws the switch case to the housing.

A worker plugs in the pump to test for any shorts in the electrical components.

The pump passes all the tests.

It's ready for the float that actuates the pump switch.

A piece has been cut out of this pump to give us an inside look at the sewage pump and its operation.

As waste water rises, so does the float, and it activates the switch to turn on the pump.

When the sewage subsides, the float lowers and switches off the pump.

Next, the pump takes the plunge in a test tank to ensure that it can handle the pressure and that it meets all the performance standards.

Once the computer gives the sewage pump the green light, it's on its way to a septic system near you.

Built for a life of effluence, this sewage pump is now ready to go with the flow.

There are unofficial claims that bimini boat tops were named for the sun-drenched bimini islands of the bahamas.

The open-sided canvas tops are usually retractable, and beginning in the early '60s, were developed to offer boaters protection from the sun.

Out on the open water, bimini boat tops provide shelter from the rain and shade in the sun.

Their durable and versatile materials withstand rugged sea breezes and intense u.v. rays while providing ample headroom for boaters.

A worker measures a piece of anodized aluminum tubing for the exact leg height needed for each custom-made bimini boat top.

Then he cuts the tubing to the dimension needed for each boat.

They use aluminum and stainless steel because they don't rust.

The worker begins bending the frame of the boat top.

The eventual roof support is on the floor while he holds the leg height in his hand.

He must be careful to not overbend.

The final angle is about 88 degrees.

The worker crowns the tubing, a process that puts a rise in the center of the roof and pulls the legs inward.

Each bimini boat top is made of three bows of different heights.

The front is shorter than the back, while the center is usually about 40% of the back leg height.

Workers now assemble the bows.

They attach eye ends and jaw slides to form rudimentary hinges.

They now unfold the assembled tubing using the precise measurements of a customer's boat.

They simulate the final shape of the boat top by using tape to spread the bows to exact widths.

Once the bows have been spread and the distance is measured, they can see the shape of the final boat top.

All that's left is installing the roof itself.

The roof is made of acrylic canvas that is both water- and fade-resistant.

And there are plenty of colors to choose from.

The patterning process begins.

Once the roof is cut, a worker stitches the roof panels.

Workers spread the cut panels over the bow setup to finalize the roof dimensions.

The canvas fabric is clamped to the bow setup as a worker marks the edges on the outside of the fabric.

The roof is made in panels.

It usually takes two or more panels to complete a roof, depending on the size of the boat.

Once excess material has been trimmed off, the worker begins stitching.

She turns the outer edge of the roof and uses a straight stitch.

She works on the sides of the canvas roof before the ends.

The worker now patterns the listing, which is a pocket through which the bow will be inserted.

Here's what the listing's raw pattern looks like once measured and cut.

She places the finished listing on top of the panel and stitches it to the end of the roof panel.

The stitching process is key to the durability of the boat top.

She turns the roof over so the listing is backwards.

It's actually sewn on inside-out and then turned over.

She stitches the entire length of the listing closed...

Then the company's identification tag.

Workers now insert the pieces of tubing into the listings of the canvas roof.

First, they push the rear bow all the way through.

Once the rear bow is in place, they prepare to insert the center and front bow of the boat top.

They unfurl the remainder of the roof and position the center bow on the center listing.

Gradually, they slide the tubing all the way through the center listing.

With the front bow inserted, the bimini boat top is almost complete.

An employee inspects the boat top for any defects.

Once installed, the bimini boat top can either be tucked away in its boot or opened up and held in place by front straps.

For the life of your boat, a well-maintained bimini boat top has it covered.

Running an engine on diesel fuel is efficient, but it emits smelly, black exhaust, soot, leftover carbon that didn't burn off in the combustion process.

To prevent exhaust emissions from polluting the air, diesel engines and diesel-powered generators need powerful filters.

This self-cleaning diesel filter traps engine-exhaust soot and burns it off by heating the filter elements.

This effectively completes the combustion process.

At the core of those filter elements are heating strips made of steel fiber, which is like dense steel wool.

But the steel is a special mix of alloys resistant to high temperatures and corrosion.

Each heating strip goes into a machine which repeatedly folds it up then down, pleating it like an accordion.

The thick steel fibers are what trap the soot particles as the engine exhaust flows through.

An electrical current heats these conductive fibers, burning off the soot regardless of engine-exhaust temperatures.

Using nickel crimps, workers connect--  depending on the filter size-- up to seven pleated strips per filter element.

They press the crimps securely into the steel fiber with a press.

They attach a different type of crimp at the far ends.

This type has a tab with three holes for the electrical connections.

Next, they bend the assembled strips into a circle and place them inside a perforated steel housing.

A temporary cardboard spacer creates a gap between strips and housing to insulate against short circuits.

The electrical-connection tabs on the ends fit through slots at the front.

An insulating block made of mica, a non-conductive mineral, goes behind the tabs, followed by steel-fiber spacers.

All this sets up a clear and strong conductive path from the power source to the strips.

They fasten the insulating block to the housing.

Then, using tweezers, they place a mica spacer in between each pleat.

This prevents the pleats from touching each other and causing a short circuit as the electrical current passes through the strips.

They place a spacing stick inside each pleat.

This is just temporary, to size the pleat's width uniformly until they're cemented permanently in position.

To do that, workers pour ceramic cement into a circular bottom plate made of perforated steel.

The perforations ensure better bonding.

They spread the cement evenly across the plate...

Then position a stainless-steel tube in the center to connect this plate to an identical plate on top.

They carefully place the strips into the cement and position the top plate...

Then add a weight to hold it down while it goes into an oven at 85 degrees to cure the cement.

45 minutes later, they take it out of the oven and remove the top plate.

They also remove the spacing sticks and cardboard spacer, which are no longer required because the spacing is now permanently set in cement.

They repeat the cementing process with the top plate.

After a final four hours in the curing oven, the electrically heated filter element, this diesel filter's key component, is completed, and the main assembly can begin.

The larger the filter, the more filter elements it contains in its stainless-steel housing.

For this mid-sized model, technicians stack four sets of six elements then connect electrical cables to the tab holes of each one.

Next, technicians install a flow-control valve for each stack.

When activated, the valve reduces exhaust flow to that stack, enabling the system to automatically clean elements by electrically heating the strip.

An internal computer manages the cleaning cycles.

It uses sensors that detect soot accumulation in the elements, isolating and cleaning one or multiple elements at a time.

On the front, techs mount the inlet flange through which the dirty diesel exhaust enters the filter...

On top, the outlet flange through which that exhaust exits soot-free.


Escalator Handrails
Highlighters
Guitar Strings
Wigs

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

Escalator handrails...

Highlighter pens...

Guitar strings...

And wigs.

The escalator was invented over 100 years ago as an amusement park ride.

The moving staircase was soon equipped with a moving handrail for safety reasons, but those early handrails were driven by oily chains, leaving passengers with greasy hands.

We get a cleaner ride on today's escalators, and if we want thrills, we try a roller coaster.

An escalator's handrail moves at the same speed as the stairs.

This makes the trip up safer because you have something to hold on to the entire way.

To make an escalator handrail, a machine called an extruder pulls synthetic rubber up into it.

A turning screw inside the extruder forces the rubber through a die the way a pasta maker squeezes out spaghetti.

4- to 6-inch-wide rubber strips roll out into a tank of water to cool because the heat from the extruder could alter their molecular structure.

Now the rubber strips move over rollers that are part of a mechanical measuring system.

There's a little indicator on the roller that gauges the width and thickness of the rubber as it moves across.

Over at the splitter machine, small round knives slice rubberized cotton the same width as the rubber strips.

Then a mechanical puller unrolls material from four different spools.

There are two streams of rubberized fabric-- one stream of the synthetic rubber which came out of the extruder earlier and one of rubberized cable wiring.

They merge and stick together as they travel over a big steel roller.

An unwinder peels away a plastic liner from the now four-plied strip.

Next, a worker places a piece of rubberized fabric and one of synthetic rubber on either side of the four-plied strip.

He presses everything except the strip of rubber around a u-shaped aluminum former.

With a piece of steel, he bears down on the shape so the layers stick together.

Then he brushes tack cement on the outside and pulls that piece of synthetic rubber at the bottom up around it.

He folds the rim down, and, using a hand roller, he seals its edges.

Now the handrail has taken shape, but it's not strong enough, so a worker places it in a molding press.

He positions a steel form inside the handrail so that it holds its shape.

The top part of the mold lowers, and the handrail bakes under high pressure at 350 degrees fahrenheit.

10 to 15 minutes later, the mold lifts, and a chemical reaction called vulcanization has occurred.

The layers have been laminated, and the handrail is now strong enough.

The last step is to trim away the flash or excess material.

Here's the latest way to make an escalator handrail.

A puller unwinds brass-coated steel wires from spools, drawing them, along with thermoplastic urethane and polyester fabric, through the dies of an extruder.

What comes out is a strip of plastic-encased wires and sliders.

The handrail shape passes through measuring devices that check its dimensions.

Now they splice the ends of two plastic handrails together to form an endless loop.

Using a roller, a worker presses the wires and plastic sliders of the inner carcass together.

As he rolls, he blasts hot air into the splice with a heat gun.

This softens the plastic so that it melds together.

He covers it with a piece of thermoplastic urethane and, again, uses a heat gun to join the pieces.

He wipes it clean with alcohol.

Then he heats it up in a mold for a minute or two.

The spliced section melts together, and then cool water hardens it.

There's no seam line where the handrail could break.

It's just one long, continuous piece.

And that's the inside story on the escalator handrail-- something to think about when you're on your way up.

The highlighter pen was invented in the 1960s simply to get your attention.

When text is shaded with transparent, vivid inks in hot pinks or warm yellows, our eye goes directly to it.

Marketers have always known that color has impact, and it's a principle highlighted by these pens.

Highlighters come in lots of shades and colors-- even neon.

This is how a highlighter pen gets its start.

A vacuum siphons plastic pellets into this container.

The red ones will tint the whole mix as it melts inside a heating tube.

A mechanized steel screw pushes the melted plastic into pen molds.

The force applied is equal to the weight of 350 elephants.

Cooled by water, the newly-molded pen barrels spill into a container below.

Now some clear-colored pen barrels drop onto a conveyor track, and ink reservoirs that look like pieces of chalk but are made of polyester drop down a shaft, and a robotic arm thrusts them into the plastic barrels.

The back-end plug goes in the same way.

The plugs fall to a robotic arm, and it pushes them into the back of the pen.

Now a chemist drops a concentrate of dye into a beaker of water.

Just over 1/3 of an ounce or 10 drops is enough to turn it fire-engine red.

A humectant, already in the water, will keep the ink from drying out when it's in the pen.

Next he measures the ink's thickness.

He lowers a steel probe into it, and the probe turns.

A gauge measures the speed.

If the probe turns too fast, it means the ink is too thin.

If it revolves too slowly, then the mix is too thick.

At four revolutions per minute, the ink is just the right consistency.

A vacuum pump sucks the ink into six-inch steel needles, and a robotic arm pushes the needles into the polyester reservoirs, injecting them with ink.

Now we arrive at the next part of assembly.

A combination of mechanical vibrations and compressed air drive a conveyor belt carrying the pen nibs.

The nibs fall into the clutch of a mechanical claw which drops them to a circular pusher.

It shoves the nibs onto the pens, and they interlock.

The impact floods the reservoir inside the pen with ink.

Now it's time to top it all off.

A conveyor transports caps to a mechanical gripper.

The gripper slides them over the nibs.

Over on another assembly line, they're making a three-in-one marker.

A conveyor bowl funnels smaller ink reservoirs into a shaft, and they drop to a robotic arm.

The arm stuffs the reservoirs into the small barrels, and then a needle injects them with ink, quickly saturating the reservoirs with vibrant color.

The next robotic arm shoves a receptacle onto the barrel, and then another robot presses a polyester nib onto it.

A robot now slips a hood-like cap over the nib.

Another mechanical arm suctions up the fuchsia-colored mini markers and transfers them to a triangular case.

Down the line, another suctioning arm picks up a red mini marker and deposits it in the triangle.

A steel probe presses it in.

Finally, a yellow-colored marker completes the triangle.

Now a robot uses an electrical charge to pick up metallic confetti.

When the charge is turned off, the confetti drops into the triangle, adding some glitter.

Next a suctioning robot drops the top part of the triangle onto the lower case, and a metal cylinder presses it shut.

Another suctioning arm carries the three-in-one marker to a conveyor belt which unloads it into a box.

This three-in-one highlighter makes it easier to color-code text-- a different color for each theme.

Now an electrical conveyor moves the highlighters to a mechanical arm.

The arm flips it around, positioning it for the next step.

A squeegee silk-screens a logo onto it.

I wonder how they came up with that one.

Now the highlighters enter an ultraviolet-light chamber.

The light bonds the ink to the case.

And finally, the ultimate test-- plastic grippers guide markers as they make circles.

700 to 1,000 circles means this particular production line will definitely stand out.

Playing the guitar is all about vibrations.

The guitar uses vibrating strings to generate the tones that the audience hears.

Strings under tension vibrate at a specific frequency or pitch, so if the song that you're hearing is in tune, it's because those guitar strings are vibrating correctly.

a good set of strings is behind many a soulful tune.

They're an important part of a guitar's sound.

To make a guitar string, they start with a steel core wire that they examine under a zoom stereomicroscope.

They magnify it 100 times, looking for flaws in the hexagonal wire.

Next, they measure the core wire's diameter with a digital micrometer.

It has to be just the right size.

Now they coil the wrap wire made of nickel-plated steel around posts on the instron testing machine.

This machine stretches the wire until it breaks.

It's a test of its ability to perform under tension.

A computer measures the distance and the amount of load the wire was under before it broke to determine how much tension this string can take.

Now the core wire undergoes a twist test.

They loop the wire onto a hook in a machine called a torsion tester.

It spins rapidly, twisting the core wire until it breaks.

This is a test of the wire's strength and elasticity.

These plastic hoppers are full of ball ends.

This machine is called a ball-end sorter.

Hollow pistons move up and down, selecting one ball end at a time.

This ensures that only those of the proper size will get through.

The ball ends shoot out of the pistons into a bucket underneath.

From here they'll go to the core-string machine.

A mechanism places the ball ends on a pin as they drop from a hopper.

Rollers feed the core wire into a clamping guide which aligns it with the ball end.

Then the pin spins, twisting the wire into a neat loop around the ball end.

This is the twisting action in slow motion.

The core strings with the ball ends now attached drop into a repository.

Then a worker hooks a ball end with its core wire onto the string winder, and he loops bronze wrap wire around the core wire.

A string-winding carriage guides the bronze wire down the length of the core wire as it wraps around.

The electrically powered winder spins the core wire, and it's that action that grabs the wrap wire as the carriage ensures that it gets wrapped neatly.

Computerized sensors monitor the speed that the string is wound at, as well as the tension.

The winder applies a critical amount of tension as it wraps the bronze wiring around the core.

They're bundled up like straw, 144 wires to the bunch.

Guitar strings are also made from nylon.

They hook the nylon core material onto a winder, pulling it down from a big spool.

Next, they loop silver-plated copper wrap wire onto the nylon.

The hook spins, and this coils the wrap wire around the nylon string binding it.

Again, a carriage system, run by an electric motor, ensures that everything falls into place.

A worker removes the strings and hangs them on a rack.

Gravity causes the strings to slide into a station where workers coil them and then place them on a conveyor belt.

Further down the line, another worker puts them in a bag that has a gas-neutralizing barrier built into the plastic to prevent corrosion.

And now these strings are ready for some playing.

Throughout history, wigs were status symbols-- hence the term "bigwig".

One early wig-making technique was to use goatskin to simulate a scalp and then hook hair into it with an embroidery needle.

Today, animal skin is no longer used.

These days, wigs can look so real that no one would notice.

To make a custom wig, a wig master measures the client's head from all angles, because heads come in many shapes and sizes.

He wraps her head in cellophane, twisting it just under the earlobes.

Next, he sticks filament tape all over the cellophane wrap.

He layers it four times to make a cast.

He lifts the tape and cellophane cast from her head and places it on a wig block, a head shape made of canvas or wood.

Using a grease pencil, he traces around the cast, making a pattern of the client's hairline on the wig block.

The wig master then cuts pieces of plain blue paper.

He pins it on the wig block within the pattern lines.

The paper will prevent light from reflecting into his eyes as he works.

Now he places a large-sized polyester-and-cotton lace on the block and cuts it to pencilled outline.

He pins a finer lace from front to back, pleating the edges with pins.

He pulls open a drawer full of real and fake hair, and it's hard to tell the difference between them.

He chooses a tail of synthetic hair labelled "venetian blond".

Pieces of pink and orange synthetic hair will be blended into the venetian blond tresses to create dramatic highlights.

This is the tool for the job.

It's a giant comb with rows of sharp steel teeth.

It's called a hackle.

The wig master places the venetian blond synthetic hair between the teeth of the hackle and sets the bright pink and orange locks on top.

Now he repeatedly drags the hair through the hackle.

He loses some strands in the comb, but those are usually the weaker ones.

This is called hackling, and the action gets progressively more vigorous.

He twists and twirls the tail as he pulls it through the hackle.

This is actually dangerous work.

One wrong move and he could pierce his hand on the barbed comb.

Once the hair is blended, he cuts it in two.

Then he presses the hair into little metal pins on a leather holding card.

The pins on a top card interlock with the bottom one.

He pulls hair out of the holding cards a few strands at a time.

With a small needle that looks like a fishing hook, he knots the strands into the lace beginning at the nape.

This is called ventilating.

It's very similar to rug hooking.

In fact, it may be why toupees are often referred to as rugs.

Ventilating is labor-intensive.

He spends a minimum of 50 hours knotting the thousands of strands that it takes to make a wig.

Partway into the job, he combs out any tangles and flounces the hair to make sure it moves naturally.

Wigs for film and tv are usually made by hand rather than machine because the result is more authentic-looking.

Because the camera tells all, the wigs need to look as real as possible.

He weaves the front of the wig one strand at a time, because the front hairline always gets the most scrutiny.

Now it's time for the fitting and the transformation.

The wig needs a little styling...

And he trims the ends.

He cuts away the extra lace, and voilà.

She's ready to let her synthetic hair down and get into her new role.


Racing Leathers
Evaporative Cooling Towers
Wood Rocking Chairs
Wire Wheels

With no car frame around them, motorcycle racers look to their clothes for protection.

One-piece suits called racing leathers provide it.

They're made of padded leather, and the design is form-fitting and aerodynamic.

Motorcycle racing leathers are a kind of body armor.

Equipped with padding and airbags, the suit is a protective shell.

It must fit the rider like a second skin.

To achieve this, racing leathers are usually custom made by a team of specialists.

They take over 40 measurements as the racer assumes different poses.

The pattern maker types the measurements into a computer.

Special software creates a pattern for the suit.

She assembles the pattern parts on the screen to ensure they match up and then sends the drawings to a printer.

It prints the life-sized patterns onto large sheets of thin tracing paper.

A member of the team then sprays the backs of the paper patterns with adhesive.

She presses the patterns onto sheets of cardboard.

She cuts out the cardboard following the designs on the paper.

The cardboard backing gives the patterns a more substantial structure.

Before cutting the leather, they clamp a sample in an automated tool that moves it repeatedly across a piece of sandpaper.

This confirms that the leather is strong enough to withstand significant abrasion.

They apply graphics to the patterns to estimate the placement, and then they're ready to cut.

The cutter carves into the white leather with a thin blade.

He follows the lines of the pattern and leaves a generous margin.

The parts will be cut more precisely later.

He transfers the leather panels to a large sheet of paper stretched across the bed of a printing machine.

Light glue applied to the paper keeps the leather pieces in place during printing.

The printer's jets spray designs onto the parts.

It uses inks that have been specially formulated for leather.

The inks start to dry immediately, but they leave the printed leather to set overnight for a full cure.

Next, using a hinged scissor frame, they stretch and expand an elastic fabric.

A member of the team sprays adhesive onto the back of a leather panel.

She presses a piece of kevlar onto the leather, and this reinforces it.

She then places the kevlar and leather panel on the fabric that's still pulled tight in the scissor frame.

She stitches the leather and kevlar part to the stretched material, creating a ribbed pattern.

She now cuts the panel to its final dimensions.

The elastic fabric contracts, causing the leather to pucker into accordion-like folds.

A seamstress stitches the ribbed panel to the back of the motorcycle racing suit.

It takes over 200 parts to achieve the desired shape and fit.

Some of them, like these shoulder protectors, are made of molded plastic and foam.

They're designed to dissipate the force of an impact.

Meanwhile, at a test station, they slam weights into a molded knee pad and measure the energy that penetrates.

Now a member of the team inserts a pair of pads into suit leg pockets and secures them with velcro.

The suit is ready for airbags.

She installs them over the shoulders.

She tucks the microprocessor and gas inflation canisters in the hump.

This is an aerodynamic part at the back of the suit.

She connects the sensors and powers up the airbags.

L.e.d. lights on the sleeve illuminate, indicating that they're operational.

With the leather suit complete, they sew a microfiber liner.

The liner wicks sweat away from the body, making the suit cooler to wear.

The racer suits up and tests the fit, and they make any final alterations.

These racing leathers are now ready for the thrills and spills of the sport.

Evaporative cooling towers keep large buildings and industrial machines cool.

Circulating liquid carries the excess heat to the cooling tower, typically installed on the roof.

The tower uses cold water to cool that fluid, then transfers the heat to the atmosphere through an evaporation process.

Pumps move the fluid carrying the excess heat through the cooling tower's closed-circuit coil.

Nozzles spray the coil with cold water.

The spray water absorbs the heat, and the cooled fluid returns to the building.

Fans blow air onto the now warm spray water to evaporate just enough to release the heat.

Then the cooled water loops back to the spray system, and the cycle repeats.

Depending on the size, the coil is made up of as many as 56 circuits.

A circuit is a zigzagged tube one inch in diameter.

The mill forms a continuous straight tube from a strip of carbon steel.

The rollers progressively curve the edges upward until they join at the top.

The last station on the mill welds the joined edges together to form a continuous seam.

Next, workers transfer the straight tube to a semi-automated tube bender, which forms it into a circuit.

Depending on the size of the circuit, there can be as few as 6 bends or as many as 18.

To make a circuit with 18 bends can require a straight tube that's over 300 feet long.

Once all the circuits are ready, workers stack them on a frame, then weld the tube ends to the corresponding holes of a steel plate.

They close up the plate with a cover called a header.

After clamping the header in position, they weld it in place, forming a pressure-tight seal.

The coil is now fully constructed and ready for testing.

Technicians submerge it in water, then pump air through at high pressure and look for bubbles, which would indicate a leak in a circuit.

If they do find a leak, they either repair or replace the circuit.

Meanwhile, work is under way on the cooling tower's mechanical section.

A computer-guided laser cutter prepares the steel panels that make up the section's rugged structure.

Workers then bend the panels where required with a machine called a press brake.

Then, they assemble the panels to build the structure.

Meanwhile, another team has assembled the mechanical section's ceiling, which houses the fans.

Workers lower this onto the structure.

Inside the mechanical section, they install the belt that links the motor's pulley to each fan pulley.

After tightening the belt screw with an impact wrench, they test the fans.

Meanwhile, the coil has been dipped in molten zinc to make it corrosion-resistant.

Workers mount it next to the cooling tower's mechanical section.

They cover it with a steel housing and install the water-spray system on top of it.

The sprayed cold water absorbs the heat from the fluid circulating through the coil.

The fans then cool the water by evaporation as it flows downward through a bundle of pvc sheets.

The machine first heats the pvc to soften it, then stamps it with the mold plate.

This imprints a proprietary pattern of peaks and valleys.

This pattern is the secret to the evaporative cooling process because it moves the air and spreads the water in a way that maximizes efficiency.

Workers stack the sheets on pole supports to construct a bundle of 300 sheets.

After placing the bundle in a housing, they install it over a basin.

This basin collects the cooled water before it's pumped back up to the sprayers to repeat the cycle.

This completes the cooling tower's lower module.

They now mate it with the upper module, containing the fans, coil, and spray system.

This evaporative cooling tower has more than 300 times the capacity of a typical residential air-conditioning system.

Now, that'spretty cool.

The rocking chair was invented back in the 18th century, when when people first thought of putting skates, or rockers, on the bottom of chairs.

The tilting movement it produces reminds us of a cradle or a rocking horse, which might be what makes rocking chairs so comforting.

These stained jumbo rockers are caned in a herringbone pattern with indonesian rattan vine.

22 pieces of solid appalachian red oak form the frame and the base of these rocking chairs.

To start, the carpenter connects the tenon joints of the stretchers to the mortises of the back frame and hammers them in place with a rubber mallet.

A caner drains a coil of binder cane, which is soaked overnight to make it more pliable while weaving the back and seat of the rocking chair.

She uncoils the rattan vine threads and starts wrapping the back frame from bottom to top.

The wrapping and weaving process for each chair lasts about eight hours and requires about 2,000 feet of rattan vine threads.

When the caner reaches the end of a rattan vine, she fastens a new coil to the first one.

She staples the threads together and closes them tight with a pair of needle-nose pliers.

She continues wrapping the back frame.

She tightens the wrapping around the frame, leaving no gap between the cane strands.

She then tucks the final strand underneath one of the rails.

She now starts the weaving process moving from left to right, using the wrapping as a base grid for the pattern.

Each thread passes over three, then goes under three.

She turns the frame over to weave the back of the frame in the same fashion.

The challenge is to keep the weaving straight and sleek to give it the classic herringbone finish.

A carpenter attaches side stretchers to the front posts, which are already assembled to the front rounds.

He hammers the pieces in with a rubber mallet and assembles the seat frame with the back posts.

There's no need for glue.

The seat caning will solidify the rocker's structure.

A caner uses the same rattan vine that was used on the back to wrap the seat frame.

He makes sure there are no gaps between the strands of cane before he starts weaving the herringbone pattern.

He weaves the over-under pattern in the center of the seat, where there's more slack in the wrapping.

Then he pushes the threads up with a wooden wedge to tighten the caning as much as possible.

Straps reinforce the structure of the chair before the seat frame is caned.

To ensure authenticity, a carpenter brands the left armrest of each chair with the original branding iron used by the company since 1875.

He hammers the armrest into the back post.

Then he aligns the spokes of the front post with the hole in the armrest.

A clamp keeps the back and front post aligned while he inserts the armrest.

A wooden wedge in the spoke prevents the armrest from disconnecting from the front post over time.

The carpenter hammers it in with a steel hammer.

The wedge replaces the need for glue and ensures a snug fit between the armrest and the front post.

The carpenter secures the armrest to the chair by drilling a solid brass carriage bolt through the back post.

With a belt sander, he levels the wedge and front post with the armrest and makes it smooth to the touch.

Before the runners, or rockers, are assembled to the base, the carpenter stains the chair.

The oil-based stain protects the wood and brings out the natural grain of the solid oak frame.

The stain is then sealed with two coats of clear varnish that will endure high humidity levels, sun, and climate changes.

The carpenter assembles the runner to the base and measures the distance to the front post.

This ensures an even rocking movement on every chair.

He fastens them with brass carriage bolts.

The finished chairs will endure the test of time and provide comfortable seating options for both indoors and outdoors.

Wheels with wire spokes ruled the highways until the 1970s, when they were replaced by cast alloy ones.

But factories still make wire wheels for the classic car market and for drivers who want to use them to customize their ride.

Wire wheels suspend the weight of a car with flexible metal spokes arranged in a specific geometric pattern.

They start with an aluminum alloy disc.

A factory worker clamps the disc in a metal spinning machine.

This machine shapes metal as if it were a piece of clay.

It spins the disc at a high speed, while a series of tools press it to a round form.

It takes 20 minutes to transform the flat disc into a wheel rim, complete with a bead for the tire.

The process also causes the metal to undergo molecular transformation, and it becomes stronger.

After polishing, a worker moves the rim under a tool that punches dimples in it.

The dimples will accommodate nuts that will be used to secure the spokes.

He drills into the dimples to create holes for attaching the spokes.

He angles the holes slightly so that the spokes sit correctly.

He stamps the wheel's design number and other identifying information into the outer edge of the wheel rim.

By now, the wheel's steel centerpiece has also taken shape.

An employee turns it for even spacing, as a tool repeatedly punctures it.

This creates rows of small holes in both the inner ring and outer flange.

He then drills those holes larger to prepare for the spokes to be assembled to the part.

At the next station, a worker inserts spokes into a press that bends its ends with hooks.

The angle of the hook varies depending on the part of the wheel the spoke is to be assembled to.

He adjusts the settings on the press to achieve the different bends.

Then it's over to an automatic blade that cuts the spokes to length.

This also varies.

They cut outer spokes longer and inner ones shorter.

He now places the ends of the spokes in a device that rolls them against a cutting block.

It carves threads in the metal in mere seconds.

With the spokes now hooked, cut, and threaded, the wire wheel is ready for assembly.

The employee hooks the appropriate spokes into the holes in the centerpiece.

He places the aluminum rim around the centerpiece.

He attaches the threaded ends of the spokes to the rim using steel nuts that fit into the tapered holes.

He screws them loosely into place.

He configures the spokes in a criss-cross geometric pattern, specified by the engineers.

This pattern is designed for strength and flexibility, but it also gives the wheel a visual appeal.

Once he's laced all the spokes from the centerpiece to the rim, he tightens the fittings.

This secures the assembly, but it's not the final torque.

They now transfer the loosely assembled wire wheel to a shaft and turn a crank to lower the centerpiece within the rim.

This brings the spokes into the correct position, and a worker tightens them substantially.

All 72 of them.

He does the final tweaking by hand.

Seven hours in the making, this wire wheel is now ready to roll.

With the rubber tire attached, he secures the wheel to the car using a single large nut.

It's called a knockoff nut because you simply knock it off to change the tire.

It's just one of the things that makes the wire wheel a classic choice.


Halogen Bulbs
Cellulose Insulation
Aluminum Ladders
Bamboo Fly Rods

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

Halogen bulbs...

Cellulose insulation...

Aluminum ladders...

And bamboo fly rods.

Halogen headlights are an example of technological progress.

The halogen bulbs throw cool, white light that mimics daylight, illuminating the road ahead.

And because they're energy-efficient, they don't burn out too often.

That's a plus when you're trying to keep your eyes on the road.

To make a halogen headlight, mechanical jaws load three lead wires into a machine.

A gripper moves in and bends the wires at the bottom.

Meanwhile, a conveyer system feeds little glass rods to a burner.

The softened glass is now pressed under either side of the lead wires, encasing them.

Next, a welding head fuses tungsten coils to the lead-wire assembly.

The coil is the filament, the part of the bulb that emits light.

Over at another station, a mechanical arm loads a glass tube into a machine head.

A burner aims a flame at the center to soften it up.

Then mechanical heads pull the glass at both ends as the burner continues to fire heat at the middle.

This creates a neck in the tube.

Now mechanical arms position the coil-and-lead-wire assembly under the newly shaped glass tubes.

Grippers lower the glass tube over them so they sit under the neck.

Burners move in and encircle the glass at the bottom, softening it.

Then a press seals the glass around the lead wires, which protrude from the bottom.

Next, a test-- an electrode sparks the lead wires.

When the capsule illuminates, it means there's ambient air inside that would interfere with the bulb's function.

Vacuums at the top of the bulb suck out all the air and contaminants.

Then nozzles spray liquid nitrogen onto the bulb.

This freezes it inside and out, creating a pressure difference.

That change in pressure pulls halogen gas into the bulb from a chamber above.

Allowing no time for the gas to escape, burners heat-seal the bulb at the neck.

The bulbs then cool as they move on a transfer chain.

Grippers now load the bulbs into another machine.

A pusher moves up and snaps a steel retainer around the bottom of each bulb.

Meanwhile, another machine builds the base for the bulb.

It pushes electrical contacts into the plastic receptacle.

This is the view from the bottom.

These prongs will eventually connect the headlight to the vehicle.

Next, jaws flip the bases.

They load them onto a tray on tracks.

The tray delivers the plastic bases to a mechanical arm that installs metal retainers on each one.

The bases slide forward, and the machine inserts the glass bulbs into them.

But it's a loose fit.

This machine aligns each bulb to its base.

Jaws tilt and slide it into place, then a laser welds it together.

This alignment is critical.

Coils for the low-beam and high-beam mechanisms must be precisely positioned for the headlight to project the right light.

Next, a series of claws pick up the bulbs.

They dip them in an opaque coating.

It's called blacktop because it only covers the tops of the bulbs.

This will direct light out of the sides of the bulb.

Now it's time to take these headlights for a test-drive, so to speak.

A bracket holds them down while probes underneath energize them to make sure they work.

A plunger places a gasket around the base.

This will seal the headlight capsule to the automobile.

And now they're ready to guide you on your nighttime drives.

Insulation keeps your home warmer in the winter and cooler in the summer.

One type of insulation material is cellulose fiber made from recycled paper.

It's derived from a natural source, wood fiber, so it's nonpolluting.

It contains no asbestos, no fiberglass, and there's no formaldehyde in it, so it doesn't emit any gases.

Like other insulation materials, cellulose fiber has to meet strict government safety standards.

One firesafety test assesses what's called smolder resistance.

The company lab weighs a sample from the production line, then inserts a lit cigarette in it.

Once the cigarette burns out, which takes an hour or two, the lab weighs the sample again.

The weight loss must be less than 15%.

How they make cellulose insulation isn't very complicated.

It all begins with recycled paper delivered in bulk.

Workers load it onto a conveyor belt, and from that point on, the entire process is automated.

The paper first goes into a machine called the primary mixer.

It separates the bunched-up pieces, preparing them for shredding.

The machine's powerful magnet removes staples, paper clips, and any other pieces of metal.

From there, the paper goes into a shredder, which rips it into pieces about 2 inches long.

The factory mixes the shredded paper with boric acid, a natural compound that acts as a fire retardant.

It also makes the insulation pest-resistant, and it helps fend off mold, wood decay, and corrosion.

Now a machine called a fiberizer shreds the paper into tiny pieces only about 1/8 of an inch long, and it mixes them with more boric acid.

From the time the recycled paper arrives by truck to the time it comes off the line as cellulose-fiber insulation, only about five minutes have passed.

But the insulation doesn't leave the factory before undergoing thorough safety testing.

This test assesses what's called open flammability.

They heat the insulation to 122 degrees fahrenheit to represent the temperature of a roof in the hot sun.

Then they ignite it.

The flame travels but then dies out, thanks to the boric acid.

If that happens within a certain distance, the insulation is safe.

Outside research firms also test the product for safety to independently corroborate the results of the company's tests.

The automated packaging equipment blows 25 pounds of insulation into a bag, at the same time compressing the fiber into a block.

Some types of thermal insulation come as thick rectangular blankets known as batts.

You install them by hand, fitting them snugly between the wall studs.

Cellulose fiber doesn't come in batts.

It's known as loose-fill insulation.

A professional installer has to inject it in between the walls.

By spraying it under pressure, it fills all the spaces without any gaps, something that's hard to do with pre-shaped batts.

Insulating performance is referred to as r-value.

The higher the r-value, the more effective the insulation.

Cellulose-fiber insulation has a higher r-value than loose-fill mineral-fiber insulation and, depending on which statistics you're looking at, has either the same r-value as loose-fill fiberglass or a higher r-value than fiberglass.

Cellulose fiber is denser than other materials, so it better resists air movement, making it less likely to move out of place after installation.

The aluminum ladder is very convenient.

Lightweight and sturdy, it makes any ascent easier.

Back in the 1930s, wooden ladders were the standard but were extremely heavy and difficult to position.

The use of aluminum took things to a whole new level.

For a ladder to really hold up, the aluminum needs to be strengthened with these ingredients-- silicon, magnesium, manganese, and copper.

It all goes into an enormous furnace.

It takes a crane to transport a hopper full of aluminum over to the furnace.

The hopper opens at the bottom to unload.

A worker opens a door at the front of the furnace.

He wears a face shield to protect him from the blistering 1,300 degrees fahrenheit.

He adds the other ingredients, and the heat turns it all into a liquid mass.

The liquid flows out of the furnace into troughs.

It seeps through holes in the troughs to molds in the ground.

The liquid cools and hardens in the molds.

This makes log shapes that are almost 23 feet in length.

A hydraulic lift extracts them from the molds and slowly takes them to the next station.

You wouldn't want to rush this job.

Each log weighs about 1,100 pounds, and dropping one could do serious damage.

A saw cuts them into pellets.

The size depends on the type of ladder being made.

A mechanical lift delivers a heated pellet to an extruder, and a ram pushes it into the opening.

They move the die plate into position.

The ram forces the hot pellet through the holes in the die plate.

This makes a rail shape about 130 feet long.

A puller drags the rail onto a table and leaves it to cool and harden.

Then a circular saw slices it into manageable lengths--  19 1/2 feet.

Operators feed each end of the ladder rail to jaw systems which pull it to make it completely straight.

The straightened rails now move on to the next station, where they rivet plastic feet onto the ends to keep the ladder from slipping.

They stick safety information onto the rails.

And now they assemble the ladder one step at a time.

Workers fit each step in the rims of the ladder rails.

They rivet them into place.

This will be the front of a light-duty stepladder.

They install a diagonal brace...

And turn the ladder over to rivet the steps from the other side.

It's a little more reinforcement.

Then they build the backside of the stepladder.

They rivet the sturdy blue plastic top onto the front and back pieces, joining the two.

They install a spreader, securing it with rivets, as well.

And now this stepladder is ready to provide a little elevation.

For a lot of elevation, they make extension ladders.

They use round rungs for greater strength.

They feed each rung to a coining machine, which tapers the ends.

Another machine presses aluminum ferrules on rings onto each end.

This allows the rungs to fit snugly into slots in the extension ladder's side rails.

Hydraulic arms reach from above and below to press-fit the rungs into the side rails.

Finally, workers rivet rubber pads onto the ends of the rails.

This provides a firm footing for the ladder.

These ladders are now complete.

And if you're on your way up in the world, they'll come in handy.

The bamboo fly rod is a classic.

The split-bamboo rod has been around since the early 19th century, and for many years, it was the only kind of rod available.

These days, synthetic rods abound, but bamboo still holds a traditional appeal to those that like to fish the old-fashioned way.

Going fishing?

A bamboo rod is considered a work of art in fly-fishing circles.

To make one, a craftsman toasts a bamboo pole on an open flame.

He holds it close to the fire, but not too close-- one false move, and he could scorch it.

The goal is to turn the bamboo a golden brown.

He pounds a wedge into the toasted bamboo and drives it down the length of the pole.

He pulls the pole apart, splitting it in two.

Then he continues to split the bamboo, making strips that are less than a half-inch in width.

He grinds down the bumps on the exterior of each bamboo strip using a belt sander.

Next, it's over to the milling machine.

It tapers the underside of the bamboo strip, beveling it to a 60-degree angle from end to end.

The tapering is a critical step that will affect the rod's casting performance.

Each strip has to be perfect.

The rod maker inspects them for flaws...

And then fits six together in a hexagonal configuration.

He wraps them with cotton twine to hold them together very loosely at one end.

Then he dips the bamboo strips in a tank of thermosetting glue.

He feeds them to a twining machine which binds the strips tightly together.

It's a temporary wrap--  a kind of clamp to hold the pieces together while the glue dries.

The pieces are now laminated into one, but the result is never perfectly straight, so the rod maker heats it over an open flame.

The heat softens the bamboo so he can smooth out the kinks.

Next, he glues ferrules made from nickel silver onto the laminated bamboo pieces.

This tubing will be used to connect the tip and butt pieces of the rod.

The butt section now turns on a lathe while a blade cuts into it.

It's slimming down sections to accommodate the handle and reel seat.

He slips on the walnut reel seat and then slides cork rings onto the rod to make the handle.

He glues each ring.

It takes 12 to 14 to make a handle for the typical bamboo rod.

It will allow for a soft, nonslip grip.

Once the glue hardens, he shapes the cork on a lathe.

He sands it to give an even finish.

Next, he heats glue over a flame.

He applies the hot glue to the stainless-steel tip and sticks it on the narrow end of the rod.

With black india ink, he inscribes the model and serial number onto the rod.

Now they coat it with varnish, using a turkey baster.

He hangs the rods to dry.

It will take three coats to give them a nice gloss.

After that, they wind silk thread to attach the steel guides to the rod.

They're the loops that the fishing line will go through.

They brush three coats of varnish onto the string.

This solidifies the wrap...

And fuses it to the rod.

They slide a ring onto the reel seat.

It provides a little separation from the cork grip.

They fit the butt and tip pieces of the bamboo rod together and do a final inspection.

It has taken 40 hours to make this bamboo fly rod.

But it shouldn't take you that long to catch the big one.


Ski Goggles
Tower Cranes
Porcelain Figurines
Diesel Engines

Fog and blinding snow can obscure the view from the top of a ski mountain, but a good pair of ski goggles can add some clarity to the situation.

They shield the eyes from the elements, and certain lenses add contrast in low light to allow the skier to see the bumps and dips ahead.

Goggle lenses come in different tints to adjust for specific weather scenarios.

They start with this injection molding machine.

The operator sprays a nonstick substance into the mold and closes the door.

The machine sucks up urethane pellets, then melts them into a thick liquid to mold into goggle frames.

It takes just seconds for the shape to harden.

A worker clips away unwanted bits, and then he's ready to give these goggles a more graphic look.

He immerses the cellophane-like material, printed side down, in a mix of water and solvent.

A chemical reaction lifts the graphic design off the film and suspends it in the liquid.

He sprays solvent on the other side to both activate a bonding agent and dissolve the film.

He then immerses a rack of goggle frames in the floating graphic.

The surface tension of the water causes the graphic pattern to wrap around the frames, and the bonding agent makes it stick.

This technique is called hydrographics, and it's a good way to transfer a pattern onto a three-dimensional surface.

He washes away any paint or dirt from the surface of the frames.

A clear lacquer is the finishing touch.

For an understated look, there's always monochromatic white.

A worker applies glue around the vents of a pair, then presses foam onto them.

The foam will keep snow out of the goggles but allow air to be vented to prevent fogging.

She applies thicker foam around the perimeter for a weather-tight fit on the skier's face.

Once the straps are installed, the goggles are ready for the latest innovation, a microelectronic fan.

It will pull warm, humid air out of the goggles to further of the goggles to further prevent fogging.

Prevent fogging.

He screws the mini fan to the frames and listens to it spin to confirm its operating correctly.

Next, a machine cuts shapes out of polycarbonate to make lenses.

Then, this special press applies heat to bend the lens.

This shape will make it easier to secure the lens to the frame, and it also reduces optical and it also reduces optical distortion.

Distortion.

Production now moves to this liner-backed foam with precut lens patterns.

The worker peels off a strip to expose a goggle-shaped strip of foam.

She then presses a colored lens onto the strip.

High-strength adhesive on the foam bonds to the lens.

She pulls away the rest of the material, leaving that narrow ribbon of foam.

It will serve as spacer between the outer-colored lens and an inner clear one.

The space between the two lenses is a buffer zone to prevent condensation buildup and fogging.

Now they shoot a steel pellet at a randomly-selected pair of goggles.

It doesn't shatter, which means it will effectively shield the skier's eyes from sharp objects like tree branches and ski poles.

It's time to snap the dual-layer lens to the frame's molded groove.

A u.v. mirror coating has also been applied to protect the eyes from the sun's rays and reduce glare.

These goggles have everything covered, leaving the skier free to focus on the thrill of the to focus on the thrill of the ride.

Ride.

A tower crane moves building materials up to construction crews working above the ground.

The operator's cabin is near the top.

Just above that is the jib, which hoists the load and trolleys it back and forth.

The jib and cabin rotate on a turntable called a slueing platform.

A crane's tower is modular, meaning the more tower sections installation crews add, the taller the crane.

At the crane factory, workers construct the slueing platform by welding together huge steel plates and square tubes.

Welders also fuse sections of ladder to sections of safety cage.

Then they weld each ladder and cage unit to a tower section.

Throughout the assembly process, robots perform the simpler welds.

Once all the crane's structural components are welded, they go to the paint shop for an anticorrosion primer, then a top coat of paint.

After each application, the part dries in an oven for about an hour at 175 degrees.

The slueing platform sits on a turning mechanism that consists of two concentric rings with ball bearings in between.

Computer-guided machines grind teeth on the outside and grooves on the inside in which the bearings will ride.

After lubricating the grooves, workers install the outer ring around the inner one.

Then they fill the groove with steel balls and high-strength plastic spacers.

This allows the outer rim to revolve smoothly around the stationary inner ring.

The operator cabin is made of steel panels.

It's integrated into the slueing platform.

The cabin's large windows enable the operator to view how the jib is maneuvering the load.

The crane's controls are built right into the cabin seat.

The seat itself is designed to be as comfortable as possible because you can't step out of because you can't step out of the cab to stretch your legs.

The cab to stretch your legs.

A motorized gear rotates the slueing ring which rotates the slueing platform, supporting the crane's cabin and jib.

The factory's computer-guided machining equipment makes all the parts for this gear as well as for the gears which enable the jib to hoist and trolley the load.

Workers assemble the slueing gear and mount the motor that drives it.

Then they connect the slueing gear to the slueing ring and mount the ring on the slueing platform into which they've platform into which they've installed the cabin.

Installed the cabin.

An automatic greasing system keeps the ring's teeth lubricated as it rotates the platform.

After an extensive test, they install the tower head on top of the cabin.

Now this entire slueing unit goes off to the construction site.

After anchoring the crane's base, the installers use a mobile crane to mount the slueing unit on the tower and the jib onto the slueing unit.

Then they add tower sections to build the crane to the required height.

An elevating device lifts the slueing unit, clearing enough space underneath to insert an additional tower section.

They connect the tower sections with giant high-strength bolts.

Then, repeat this procedure until the crane is as high as it needs to be.

Once the crane is fully erected, the operator climbs the tower ladder up to the cabin.

As he works, he observes what he's doing through the windows.

He also watches a computer monitor which displays how the jib is hoisting, trolleying, and depositing the load.

He can communicate with the ground via phone or walkie-talkie so things are walkie-talkie so things are never left up in the air.

Never left up in the air.

Europe is renowned for producing magnificent porcelain figurines even though it was the chinese who first invented the art.

In 1718, the first european factories began making ornate porcelain objects, which quickly became a status symbol among the nobility.

This viennese palace is home to europe's second oldest manufacturer of handmade porcelain.

Following photos of a subject, a modeler sculpts a three-dimensional figure out of clay.

Not only must he include all the intricate details, he also has to make the model 14% larger than the final size because porcelain shrinks during the firing process.

He uses the model to cast a master mold out of plaster.

From the master mold, he casts a plastic mold and from that, plaster production molds with which to cast the figurines.

In its raw form, porcelain is a paste which contains water, the minerals feldspar and quartz, and white kaolin, a type of clay.

They water down the paste into a liquid called slip, then pour it into the plaster production molds.

The plaster immediately begins drawing out the water, causing a firm layer of slip to form against the mold cavity.

They pour out the remaining liquid.

When the slip layer is finally thick enough, they open the mold and carefully extract what is by now a figurine with fine details.

More complex figurines are cast in parts, each in its own mold.

The modeler carefully touches up each casting, scraping off seams and fine-tuning the details.

Then, he assembles the parts, using a slip to stick them using a slip to stick them together.

Together.

It's critical to keep the figurine hydrated because if it dries out even slightly, it will crack during firing.

The figurine goes through two main firings.

The first time at over 1,700 degrees-- hot enough to harden the porcelain but also keep the surface porous so the glaze will adhere.

They inspect and dust the fired figurine then stamp it with coat of arms in cobalt-blue enamel.

The mark as described this brand of austrian porcelain since 1744.

Then they dip the figurine in glaze-- a mixture of water and several materials, including quartz, feldspar, kaolin and ground-up porcelain.

Then, into the kiln again, this time over 2,500 degrees.

This bakes the glaze to a glassy finish and further hardens the porcelain.

The figurine exits this firing about 14% smaller as the remaining moisture has evaporated.

Once it cools, they begin decorating the figurine.

Using a variety of fine-tipped pens and brushes, an artist paints enamel onto the glazed paints enamel onto the glazed surface.

Surface.

Between paint applications, depending on the number of colors and intricacy of color blending, the figurine undergoes as many as six minor firings at 1,500 degrees.

This melts the vitreous ingredient in the enamel fusing it with the glaze.

The end result is rich, permanent color that never fades.

Despite its delicate appearance, porcelain is nearly as strong as steel when under compression, but it's not nearly as resistant to impacts, so when handling these magnificent works of ceramic art, a good grip is ceramic art, a good grip is highly recommended.

Highly recommended.

Drivers looking for greener cars, but with more powerful acceleration than hybrids deliver, can opt for a vehicle that runs on diesel.

Today's diesel fuel burns as cleanly as gasoline, yet diesel-powered cars are 30% more fuel efficient than gas-powered cars, meaning they consume less fuel and, therefore, pollute less.

The secret behind this car's powerful diesel engine is a turbocharger.

It compresses the air entering the engine's combustion chambers filling them with a greater quantity of air.

The more air, the better the fuel burns, generating extra power.

The engine assembly begins with a v-shaped block with two sets of three cylindrical holes called cylinders.

Robots first mount a retaining frame to support the crankshaft.

Each cylinder will contain a piston that moves up and down with the combustion cycle.

This piston motion will turn the crankshaft which, in turn, will move the whole vehicle.

But first, a laser-beam device hones the cylinders.

The laser's heat melts the surface of the inner walls, smoothing them.

This ensures the pistons will move with minimal friction.

Meanwhile, a robot oils up the crankshaft's main bearings.

Then, once the cylinder honing is done, workers install the crankshaft at the bottom of the engine block, locking it in position with a retaining frame.

Now they flip the engine block right side up to install the pistons, which are already attached to connecting rods.

Once all six pistons are in, they turn the engine block upside down again and fasten each connecting rod around the crankshaft.

Next, they connect the chain drive to one end of the crankshaft.

The chain drive operates camshafts that open and close the valves on top of the cylinders.

Those valves are located in these cylinder heads, four valves per cylinder-- two through which air enters the combustion chamber and two through which exhaust exits following each combustion cycle.

Workers flip the heads upside down and insert long bolts.

Then they position the heads over the cylinders, aligning the bolts with holes in the engine block.

Robots drive in the bolts to a specific tightness.

This caps each cylinder, closing its combustion chamber.

Next, workers install a fuel injector into special shafts in each cylinder head.

Injectors shoot a specific amount of fuel into the combustion chambers at precisely the right time.

These cutting-edge piezo injectors do that multiple times per cycle rather than just once, making the combustion process much smoother.

The engine, therefore, is quieter and pollutes less.

The next component is the air-intake manifold.

It goes on top of the engine.

Air enters on the left and, as this animation shows, runs to the intake valves on top of the cylinders.

It's time to install this engine's secret weapon, the turbocharger.

It contains two turbine wheels that spin at nearly 200,000 rpm.

One turbine compresses air entering the air-intake manifold.

The other draws out the hot exhaust and sends it out the car's exhaust pipe.

The turbocharger sits at the rear of the engine block in the "v" between the cylinders.

Over at the testing department, technicians analyze the engine's performance, in particular, its torque, which determines how much power the engine can produce.

Next, the engine goes into a test vehicle which runs through specific driving cycles that simulate both highway and city conditions, all the while collecting the emissions exiting out the exhaust pipe.

This test insures that the engine meets or exceeds all the engine meets or exceeds all the emission standards.

Emission standards.

Not only does the turbocharger give the car better acceleration, it also solves a common problem in high-altitude regions, where decreased atmospheric pressure slows down nonturbo engines.

Because turbocharging compresses the air going into the engine, even at high altitudes, the car even at high altitudes, the car drives at full power.

Drives at full power.