In glass extractors, solvents capture liquids from solid or semisolid materials.

For example, oils can be extracted from plants to obtain the essence of their fragrance and flavor.

The plant oil can then be bottled for use or incorporated into products.

Inside this glass apparatus, extraction happens.

Solvent continuously treats a solid material to extract an oil or other component of interest.

Making an extractor starts with glass tubing of various lengths and diameters.

A glass worker uses this one to form a standard taper joint in one end of the extractor tube.

He heats the end to soften it and places a forming tool over it.

In its softened state, the glass conforms to the profile.

After controlled heating removes internal stresses, he grinds the joint to the final dimension.

The grinding gives the joint a frosted appearance.

Another worker widens one end of the main extractor body and forms it into an outer joint.

This end will connect to the condenser.

The other end connects to the lower extractor body.

A worker joins them together.

Then, using a glass support tool, he inserts an inner siphon tube.

He melts a hole in the lower extractor body and attaches the inner siphon tube to it.

He makes another hole in the extractor's main chamber.

He then fuses another siphoning tube to the outside of the main extractor body and bends it into a "u" shape.

He connects the other end of the "u" to the inner siphon tube and melts the connecting point all the way around to seal the glass.

He burns another hole in the lower end of the extractor and installs a tube for solvent overflow.

He bends it into a vertical position.

He forms another hole near the top of the main extractor body and connects the overflow tube to it.

Moving on to the condenser now, a worker shapes the end into a joint that will fit into the top of the extractor.

He pumps air into the condenser tube to expand the heated glass within a forming tool.

Another member of the team applies an aggregate compound.

He inserts in it a spinner that grinds the compound against the glass to refine the profile.

He tests the fit of this inner joint against a standard outer one.

Blowing air into one end, he heats the condenser tube in three locations.

The air gravitates to the heat and forms bulbs in the part, increasing the surface area inside to improve efficiency.

He opens up one end of the condenser tube.

Continuing to heat the end, he inserts a reamer tool to widen the opening.

He carefully slides the condenser into the outer body using a piece of cardboard.

The worker burns a hole in the bottom of the outer body and fuses the end of the condenser to it.

He then connects the stem that will eventually carry the condensed solvent to the extraction chamber.

Next, he makes a hole in the top of the condenser and seals a stem to it.

This top stem opens the system to the atmosphere to prevent pressure buildup.

He also equips the condenser with connectors for cooling fluid hoses.

A worker moistens a decal of the company logo and places it on the condenser unit.

Then he places the unit into an annealing oven to gradually ramp up the temperature to 1,040 degrees fahrenheit, and then slowly brings it down.

The process both strengthens the glass and bakes the decal into it.

Heated, evaporated and then condensed, the solvent in the extractor will separate liquids from solids.

After more than a century of use, it's still a neat trick.

The perfect chandelier can be the cherry on the decor sundae.

There's no shortage of fabulous fixtures in lighting stores and online, but when customers have a unique design in mind, or want someone to design something special, they have to go to a lighting manufacturer that does custom work.

This striking chandelier is a unique custom design.

A rustic faux-wood-finish exterior contrasts against a shimmering gold-leaf interior and has handblown, ribbed glass globes suspended like colored jewels.

A worker constructs the frame for the chandelier's drum shade out of flat bars of cold-rolled steel, steel whose composition makes it flexible enough to be bent without heating.

After bending two bars into rings, the welder connects them with four vertical ribs made of the same type of steel bars.

He tack welds the pieces at first, then verifies with a level to make sure the ribs are straight.

Then, he fully welds the frame and grinds every weld flat to make the joints invisible.

The manufacturers laser cut and weld sheets of cold-rolled steel to make the light kit that contains the lights and wiring and supports the shade with four crossbars.

Turning the kit upside-down, the bottom is spray painted gold.

The workshop's custom painter applies adhesive and begins gently laying down delicate sheets of gold leaf.

He flattens the leaf with a soft-bristled brush, working the entire surface.

Once he's sure the gold leaf has adhered everywhere, he brushes away the excess.

Once the gold-leaf adhesive is dry, he sprays on a coat of clear, high-gloss lacquer, then removes the masking tape covering the side and top.

The painter also gold leafs the inside and rim of the light housings.

An assembler now installs them in the light kit, then installs an led bulb in each housing.

To make the shade, manufacturers mold two half drums of acrylic and paint them black on one side and gold on the other.

Another painter brushes white lacquer-based paint on the black side.

Once the paint dries, he applies a coat of diluted brown paint in uneven striations to create the look of wood grain.

He doesn't let this coat dry because he wants overlapping colors to bleed into each other, so he quickly applies the third coat.

He immediately applies the fourth and final coat, diluted gray.

He spreads it with a cloth using small gentle strokes.

He compares his work to the design sample to make sure it matches.

Then, he lets the paint dry thoroughly overnight.

The next day, the first painter applies gold leaf to the reverse side of the painted drum halves.

Again, he coats the gold leaf in clear lacquer and lets it dry overnight.

The next day, an assembler takes the drum-shade frame, which has since been painted black, and installs the two half shades, locking them into a lip on the top and bottom rings.

A worker completes the light kit by splicing the nine wires coming from the led lights to a central wire coming out from the center of the kit's top cover.

Then, workers line up the kit's four crossbars with the shade's four ribs and insert each crossbar through a notch at the top of the shade.

They screw the top ring to the crossbar.

Globes are crafted by a local glassblower.

The assembler strings each one on a stainless-steel braided cable with a brass check ring on top.

He sets spring-loaded ball grippers above and below the globe to lock it on the cable.

The grippers make the globe vertically adjustable.

This chandelier has seven cables, each one suspending one to three globes.

A brass connecter at the top of the cable screws securely into a small threaded hole in the light kit.

With its creative trio of faux-wood, gold and glass, this custom-designed chandelier makes an illuminating statement.

Strength training is an important component of a fitness regimen.

One way to build strength is to lift weights or exercise on machines that provide resistance when users pull, push or lift.

Typically, weights produce that resistance, but some machines use a completely different system.

This exercise machine doesn't have the typical stack of weights.

Instead, the handles are connected by a rope-and-pulley system to a pneumatic cylinder which creates resistance.

This computer-guided laser cuts many of the parts out of sheet steel.

It can make complex cuts, which are accurate within 100 microns, the width of two human hairs.

The parts go into a vibrating tumbler filled with ceramic stones and water.

The stones rub against the parts, removing what's called scale, a flaky substance produced on the surface of the steel by the heat of the laser and oxygen in the air.

A worker clamps the parts for the trainer's power module onto a welding fixture.

The fixture is on a robotic cell.

The cell rotates, delivering the parts to the robot, which proceeds to weld them together.

Welding the power module takes 14 minutes.

When the robot completes the welding, the cell returns the fixture to the worker, who inspects the module thoroughly, then transfers it to the finishing area.

A worker grinds the welds flat, then, with a finer grinding disc, smoothes them out so that they won't show once the steel is painted.

After washing the module in iron phosphate, a worker applies a positive electrical charge to the module and a negative one to the powder paint.

Opposite charges attract, drawing the paint particles onto the surface in an even coat.

Then the worker bakes the paint onto the steel in an oven.

Elsewhere in the factory, another worker drills a 12-inch-deep hole into a cylinder rod.

The rod is steel, the piston on its end, aluminum.

He inserts the cylinder rod into the cylinder, also made of aluminum, then carefully inserts a sensor rod into the cylinder rod's hole.

The sensor relays the cylinder's position to the machine's computer.

Snap rings hold the parts together.

After a paint-job inspection, the trainer is ready for assembly.

First comes the decals.

The assembler wets the surface with soapy water, then applies them.

Once the decals are partially dry, he gingerly removes the transfer tape and inspects for bubbles or gaps.

Next, he installs the machine's computer.

It calculates the power produced with each pull on the handles.

Then, he installs what's called the accumulator tank, which stores the air for the return stroke of the handles.

He installs the cylinder.

The bottom is assembled to a central pulley that connects to both handles.

The top connects to the accumulator tank with an air hose.

The amount of force is determined by how much air pressure the user lets in when pushing the yellow resistance-control buttons.

The buttons are attached to air hoses and wired to the computer.

The assembler routes a 26-foot-long rope through the central pulley and through the machine's 12 additional pulleys.

The configuration is designed to enable a wide range of exercises.

After closing up the power module with a cover panel and installing the two height-adjustable arms, the assembler installs a swiveling pulley on each arm and ties what's called a clevis to the end of each rope.

The clevis holds a wide range of other attachments.

Once assembly is complete, an inspector checks for any aesthetic or functional defects.

He sets a resistance level, then pulls on the handles to make sure the cylinder sensor is reading correctly.

Pulling a handle pushes the rod into the cylinder, forcing the piston against the incoming air pressure supplied by a compressor.

Because this power trainer uses air, rather than weights, to produce resistance, users can work out at faster speeds, which producers higher power.

Single-serving coffee pods provide almost instant gratification.

The concept has changed the way coffee is prepared, no need to wait around for a whole pot of coffee to brew.

By simply inserting the pod in a compatible machine, it brews the coffee in seconds.

These coffee pods are designed to be composted after use.

They offer the convenience of a quick coffee without long-term landfill consequences.

The process of making coffee pods starts with bags of unroasted beans from different parts of the world.

These beans will be combined to create specific blends, but first, they must be thoroughly tested and graded.

A technician inhales the aroma to sniff out defects.

He examines the physical condition of the beans.

He's looking for insect damage or fragmentation.

If he finds too many defects, the lot will be rejected.

Too much moisture would be another indication that the coffee beans are substandard, so he measures the water content using an electronic analyzer.

He roasts samples of the beans in these mini roasters.

This unlocks the flavors and aromas in the green coffee beans.

The color deepens.

The beans harden and double in size due to the release of gases and water vaporization.

For lighter, milder beans, he does a shorter roast.

For darker, more intensely flavored beans, he roasts them a little longer.

He inspects the color frequently, and when satisfied, he empties the beans into receiving trays.

Fans underneath cool the beans and stop the cooking.

Roasting has transformed the bitter green beans into something entirely more flavorful.

The technician grinds small amounts into different glasses in order to prepare for a flavor analysis known as cupping.

The q grader takes over.

He's a certified coffee taster.

He inhales the bouquet of the coffee and assesses it.

He then pours hot water onto the coffee and lets it steep.

The grounds float to the surface and form a thick crust.

He breaks the crust with a spoon and inhales again.

Then, after skimming off the grounds, he slurps the coffee and ponders its flavor, body and acidity.

He grades the samples accordingly.

The highest-grade beans will now be made into coffee pods.

Big batches tumble in a computer-controlled roaster.

The computer slowly increases, and then drops, the temperature for the desired result.

The roaster ejects the beans onto a perforated pan, and rotating paddles mix them to dissipate the heat.

In this industrial grinder, rollers pulverize the coffee beans to a specific granulation.

Too fine, and the coffee will taste bitter.

Too coarse, and the full flavor won't be extracted.

To test the granulation and density, a technician dispenses some of the coffee into a 1-pint container and then weighs it.

If the coffee is too heavy and compressed, water won't flow easily through the coffee pod.

Once it passes the density test, the coffee is packed into pods.

The filter material unwinds through tensioning rollers towards the assembly machine.

The pod rings, made from plant-based plastic, head in the same direction.

A pusher moves the rings into slots on a revolving drum.

The system pulls the mesh filler material over the pod rings.

Heated devices descend as the drum turns and seal the mesh to the rings.

Formers stretch the mesh to shape it into filter cups.

As the drum continues to turn, depositors fill rows of the mesh filter cups with coffee.

Paper lid material unwinds from the other side, and heat sealers fuse it to the pods.

At the same time, the ceiling heads punch out the pods, separating them from the mesh and the excess lid paper.

The coffee is now encased in pods.

Exiting the drum, an overhead system moves the pods forward to be weighed.

This mechanized system produces 220 coffee pods a minute.

Each will provide a quick, caffeinated pick-me-up.


Technological Corks
Zinc Gutters
Traditional Basque Ham
Chisteras

Many wine makers these days are opting to seal their bottles with technological corks.

These are stoppers made of molded particles of natural cork which have undergone a purification treatment to remove the t.c.a. molecule and other contaminants, which can give wine a musty odor.

Technological corks look very much like the traditional stoppers that are cut and shaped from a solid piece of cork.

These two are made of natural cork, only very differently.

Cork is the bark of the cork oak tree.

Once the tree reaches the age of 25, it can be harvested for its bark once every decade or so.

A specialized worker makes cuts in the bark with an ax using a very specific technique that doesn't harm the tree.

Using the handle of the ax, he gently pries off the bark.

A cork oak typically lives for 300 years and can be harvested up to 15 times.

Upon receiving planks of cork from the supplier, the technological cork factory breaks them into small pieces...

Then grinds those pieces into granules, and then stores them in huge bags.

The first step is to empty the bags into silos that feed the purification equipment.

The machines, which purify the cork granules, are giant autoclaves.

Workers fill each one with a ton of granules.

Then they start up a compressor, which simultaneously heats and pressurizes carbon dioxide that then transforms into a semiliquid gas called supercritical co2, which is an environmentally friendly solvent.

They inject the supercritical co2 into the autoclave and wash the granules in it for 3 hours.

The factory's in-house laboratory then analyzes and compares pre- and postpurification samples drawn from each batch to ensure there are no offending molecules remaining after treatment.

A technician uses the technique of gas chromatography to separate molecules by their size and structure, then the technique of mass spectrometry to measure the electrical signal that each molecule emits.

The type of signal identifies the type of molecule.

The signal strength indicates its quantity.

Once the batch gets the green light from the lab, the manufacturer mixes it with a food-safe binding agent and transfers the batch to the molding line.

The molding machine is computer-controlled to automatically adjust the molds to the dimensions of the stopper being produced.

The machine pours the cork mix into the molds, which then go into an oven for a few minutes.

The ingredients bake into a solid stopper with just the right degree of elasticity.

Every stopper made in the same mold shape is identical, but no two stoppers cut from the whole pieces of cork are ever the same because cork has natural variations.

This is merely the cork's preliminary shape.

A computer-guided machining center refines them to exactly the shape ordered.

After finalizing the dimensions, the machine chamfers one or both ends.

A chamfer is a beveled edge that makes it easier to insert the cork into the bottle.

Every cork then passes in front of a camera, which detects any defects.

This machine conducts a permeability test on a few samples from each batch to measure how much oxygen flows past the cork when it's in position in the bottle.

The corks are usually custom-marked for a specific winery.

Some wineries order a model that looks more like a traditional stopper cut from a solid piece of cork.

That type requires a couple of extra production steps.

A branding stamp burns lines on the top.

Then a computer-guided laser burns a pattern around the side of the stopper to mimic the texture of natural cork.

The last step is to brand the winery-specific words and images.

The cork goes from ground cork bark to a finished stopper and then to a final visual inspection before being shipped out to the winery.

The cork granules are stabilized by a binding agent and molded to a custom shape to block more or less oxygen according to the winemaker's specifications.

Some wines require a completely airtight seal while others require a certain degree of air penetration to mature further after bottling.

Zinc gutters drain rainwater and, in the process, develop a natural resistance to corrosion.

When zinc is exposed to wet and dry cycles, a chemical reaction occurs, forming a protective patina on its surface, no paint or special treatment needed.

You can't stop the rain, but you can stop it from damaging buildings and their foundations.

These u-shaped zinc gutters funnel water away from the structures to keep them dry.

The process starts with the production of these 46-ton coils of zinc.

The zinc arrives at the factory in the form of thick plates.

These plates are almost 100% zinc.

The plates drop into a furnace.

Inside, the temperature reaches 750 degrees fahrenheit.

Workers add a bit of copper and titanium to reinforce the zinc, and it melts into a homogeneous liquid.

The molten zinc then flows into a trough-style conveyor system.

Residues, like ashes, float to the top of the metal soup, and a worker skims them off.

A floating puck monitors the speed and depth of the zinc blend to prevent overflow.

The molten zinc now arrives at the casting machine.

Here, 3-foot-wide steel unwinds, and once linear, the zinc flows onto it.

The steel acts as a mold to form the zinc into a long rigid sheet.

Water flows onto the zinc to accelerate cooling and solidification.

Since water and liquid zinc don't mix, the water simply runs off the surface.

Now solid, the zinc plate is almost 1/3 of an inch thick, far too thick for making lightweight rain gutters.

The next operation will thin the plate down dramatically.

This is a powerful rolling mill.

The pressure on its rollers is so great that they often must be replaced.

Once the new rollers have been loaded, the mill heats them up.

The operator activates the rollers.

As they revolve, the hot rollers exert 770 tons of pressure to iron the zinc much thinner.

Meanwhile, just ahead, a steel belt tensioning system swings into action.

This system prevents slackening in the zinc sheet as it exits the rolling mill and moves forward.

You can see the difference the rolling has made.

It has reduced the thickness of the zinc sheet to about 3/4 of a millimeter.

The steel-belt system maintains the tension in the zinc sheet as it's wound around a core.

This produces the 46-ton coil of zinc.

It's known as the mother coil.

Approximately 25 miles of rain gutters can be made from this coil.

Workers slit the mother coil into three.

Each coil is a foot wide.

It is now the correct width to be formed into rain gutters.

A crane lifts one of the narrower coils over the factory floor.

Its journey is guided by the operator below.

This puts it in position to be mounted to the next machine, one that will cut it into uniform 13-foot-long strips.

That's the standard length for the rain gutters.

As the zinc uncoils, an overhead mirror provides a top view for the operator.

In quick swoops, the blade slices the zinc sheeting to the correct length.

The zinc strips then travel through a progressively narrow channel and over a cylinder.

This rounds the profile.

More rollers improve on the u-shape and also curl the edges of the gutters to reinforce them.

This gives the zinc rain gutters their final shape.

The automated profiler ejects the 13-foot-long gutters onto a rounded rack.

Then it tips to stack the gutters neatly on top of each other.

These zinc rain gutters are ready to hang.

On site, they'll be welded together and attached to the roof with special hooks.

They should come in handy on a rainy day.

The french basque country is, culturally, quite distinct from the rest of france.

Located in the southwest, bordering spain, the region is known, among other things, for its ham, which is salted and air-cured in an old tradition, passed down through generations of basque farmers.

There are several types of traditional basque ham.

This one, called kintoa, is marbled with fat and has a deep, strong, fruity flavor.

Its distinct taste and composition begin with a specific breed of pig, the basque country piebald, referring to the animal's skin.

This pig breed is native to the basque region where livestock are raised on small farms in the valleys of the pyrenees mountains.

Unlike commercially farmed animals, the female pigs have small litters of six to nine piglets, which grow up roaming and grazing along the vast mountainsides on an average of 2 acres of land per 30 piglets.

As a result of this free-range rearing, the pigs grow more slowly and become heavier than commercially farmed pigs.

Once the animals reach a weight of about 330 pounds, which usually takes a year to 15 months, they go to the slaughterhouse.

Each carcass is stamped with an identification number.

Traditional ham is made from the hind legs.

After tagging the leg, a worker places it in a machine, which brands the kintoa symbol into the flesh.

Then another worker spreads dry salt on the exposed portion.

The salt comes from salies-de-béarn, a saltwater spring in a basin bordered by the pyrenees mountains, the adour river, and the atlantic ocean.

Workers leave the salted ham in a cold, damp room for 1 day per every 2 pounds, typically about 15 days per ham.

The salt preserves the meat.

Next, the ham undergoes a first dry curing.

It hangs on a stainless-steel rack in a temperature and humidity controlled room for 7 months.

When the ham comes out of the room, it has lost about 20% of its original weight because most of the moisture has evaporated.

A worker brushes off the surface...

And coats the exposed part of the ham with a special grease that's made out of pig's kidneys, rice flour, and water.

This grease prevents the surface from drying out and crusting during the second dry curing.

The ham now goes into a second drying room, which dries the ham in the open air, taking advantage of this particular geographic location.

A warm southern wind from spain and humid air from the atlantic ocean to the west blow into the room through windows.

Nature does all the work.

Humans merely regulate the airflow and humidity by lifting or lowering the blinds.

In this room, the ham hangs from a wooden rather than stainless-steel rack.

That's because the wood absorbs excess humidity and transfers moisture to the meat if the air gets too dry.

As the ham dries, its flavor concentrates.

The charcutier, an artisanal pork butcher, inspects every ham carefully.

The wind that dries the ham carries pollen and other natural particles, which give this ham a distinct flavor and fragrance.

The secret is slow curing until the ham reaches optimal maturity.

That takes approximately 1 month per 2 pounds, so the ham remains in the second drying room for more than a year.

When the cured ham is ready, workers sprinkle it with espelette pepper, a mildly hot pepper from the northern basque country.

This gives the ham a fragrance that's as appetizing as its taste.

The ancient basque sport of pelota, or jai alai, can be played with a paddle, a racket, just your hands, or with a specially made wicker scoop called a chistera, which helps propel a ball at lightning speeds, making the sport one of the fastest ball games in the world.

The chistera was an innovation of the mid-19th century.

Ever since then, making chisteras has been the domain of a few specialized artisans.

The family-owned workshop and all the tools it contains for making chisteras has been passed on from father to son since 1887.

In use for more than 100 years, these tools still work.

The great grandson of the workshop's founder uses an old plane and clamping bench to shape a curved piece of chestnut.

He clamps one end in a vice and uses a modern drill to round the tip before rubbing on a little wax to help fit a crosspiece.

To prepare for the next phase, he smoothes the surfaces with some fine-grit sandpaper.

It's now time for him to create the substructure of the chistera.

He starts by clamping the frame onto a mold.

He gauges the curve of the side ribs and uses steam to adjust them.

He's used plaster to patch the mold where it's been worn down by more than 100 years of constant use.

Then he moves on to the bottom ribs, which he carefully shapes and trims to length.

Each chistera is completely bespoke-- that is, made to order for the individual pelota players.

This means each chistera will differ slightly to meet the needs of its owner.

That's why the artisan must take care to ensure all the dimensions are correct.

He attaches lengths of elastic strapping to the mold to hold the ribs in place as he works.

Ribs give a chistera its shape, but they're not strong enough by themselves.

They need to be woven with wicker made from willow heartwood.

The artisan prepares the wicker with tools designed to shave it down to the required dimensions.

He then turns the chistera over to his uncle, a specialist in wicker wood.

There are two different sizes of chistera.

For a small one, it takes a specialist roughly 9 hours to weave.

For a big one like this, it takes about 14 hours.

In the game of pelota, the small hard ball travels at incredible speeds.

In fact, the guinness book of world records reports a pelota ball clocked at 188 miles per hour.

Speeds like that could cause some serious damage.

Here, the artisan rolls and sews leather padding designed to protect the player's hands from injury.

Once he's made the padding components, he sews them onto the chistera, positioning them where needed.

This leatherwork phase alone takes about 2 hours to complete.

He now cuts out the shape required for the glove portion of the chistera, then slices the outlines for the individual fingers.

True to form, even the sewing machine is an antique original.

It may be old, but this well-built machine can still do the job of sewing the leather to a layer of cloth, which is specially formulated to wick away sweat.

To attach the glove to the wicker scoop, the artisan must set aside the sewing machine and complete this step the old-fashioned way by carefully sewing the components together by hand.

He then trims off any excess material with a pair of scissors and inserts his hand into the glove.

This makes it easier for him to complete the final step of attaching a handy loop.

Preserving a tradition of handcrafted excellence, the finished chistera is a work of artisanal art.

That helps make pelota one of the fastest games in the world.


Diamond Cuttings
Wood Doors
Paintballs
Newspapers

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

Diamond cutting...

Wood doors...

Paintballs...

And newspapers.

Diamonds are rare crystals composed mostly of carbon.

They're the hardest natural substance on earth.

A superb cut manipulates light to maximize a stone's brilliance.

That enhances the diamond's beauty and increases its value.

Diamonds come in a variety of colors, the most common of which for jewelry is white.

They begin as a larger, rough stone.

The goal is to cut as big a diamond as possible from it while cutting away any imperfections that lessen the value.

To do this precision work, master diamond cutters use a magnifying glass that enlarges the stone 10 times.

They carefully examine and re-examine the rough diamond, trying to determine the best way to divide the stone.

They must saw the diamond in the direction of its grain, then, using hot glue, secure the rough diamond into a holder positioned over the saw.

The saw has a very fine bronze blade, but it can't cut through the diamond on its own.

Only diamond can cut diamond, so they coat the blade in a mixture of diamond dust and oil.

Sawing an average-size rough diamond in two can take up to four hours.

The second stage of diamond cutting is called polishing.

It's the process of forming the diamond.

A special machine first tailors the basic shape.

Then the diamond cutter puts glue in a mounting tool called a dop.

This will hold the diamond firmly in place.

He presses the diamond against a spinning cast-iron wheel coated with a mixture of diamond dust and oil.

First, he removes any marks that were left by the saw.

Then, to give the stone its brilliance, he forms facets-- a particular pattern of tiny, flat sides of various shapes.

The facets are designed to reflect light off each other.

Each one must be exactly the right size and shape and cut at precisely the right angle in relation to the other facets to create maximum brilliance.

Here he starts with the table facet, which is the flat top of the diamond.

How he proceeds depends on the size and condition of the stone.

Then come the pavilions-- the angled facets that end in a point at the bottom of the diamond.

If they're cut too deep or too shallow, light will leak out the bottom, making the diamond dark in the center and dull overall.

The ideal slope is approximately 42 degrees.

The diamond cutter uses specialized tools to measure the angle.

Next, the diamond cutter fashions crown facets-- the ones circling the diamond directly under the table.

Using another type of dop, the diamond cutter fashions what's called the girdle-- the faceted rim that separates the crown facets around the top half of the diamond and the pavilion facets below.

Diamonds are weighed using a measurement called karats.

One karat weighs 0.007 ounces.

Polishing a one-karat diamond can take three or four hours.

When it's done, they boil it in acid to remove any debris.

This finished diamond has 58 facets.

It's called a brilliant cut.

It's by far the most common style of cut, dating back to the 1600s.

The quality of the cut is a key factor in grading diamonds.

Experts also rate what's called the clarity-- the degree of imperfections in the stone.

Then there's color.

The finest white diamonds are completely colorless, and the rarest colors are the most valuable.

Coming soon to a supermarket near you-- food that tells you when it's gone bad.

Researchers are developing electronic devices that monitor food freshness and detect potentially fatal bacteria like e. coli.

These devices on the packaging would give off a signal when the food inside spoils.

We open and close them several times a day, day in and day out and seldom give them a second thought, but imagine your home without doors.

For one thing, you'd have absolutely no privacy.

And what would you slam when you get angry?

The first factory makes the door's plywood facing.

They start by loading logs into steaming basins for three days.

This deices them in the winter and softens the wood fiber.

Inside the factory, the steamed logs line up for the debarker-- a machine that removes the bark.

The operator projects concentric circles and uses a laser to carefully center the log on the debarker.

Positioning is crucial for two reasons-- so that as little wood as possible comes off with the bark and to ensure the debarked log ends up perfectly cylindrical.

That maximizes the amount of wood veneer a log will yield.

The next step is called rotary cutting.

As the log spins, a lathe skims off a sheet of wood veneer just 2/100 of an inch thick.

The average log yields 440 linear feet of veneer.

Next, they unroll the veneer and cut it into sheets.

Then they stack the sheets by identical grain patterns.

Using a laser to position the blade, they cut through the stack to take out visual defects.

Then they glue the pieces together.

To make veneer sheets for the front of the plywood facing, the side that will show, they line up the wood's grain and other features in mirror image.

For the back, the side that won't show, they assemble the defective parts they cut out earlier.

They use three veneer sheets to make up the plywood door facing.

They apply glue to both sides of one sheet, then sandwich it between two other sheets.

They feed the three sheets through a hot press at more than 212 degrees fahrenheit.

In a minute and a half, the glue cures, and those three sheets of veneer become a 3-ply panel of plywood.

Then they sand the panel.

Plywood door facings can be made from more than 15 different species of wood from birch and oak to maple and mahogany.

At the second factory, they make the core of the door.

They glue together strips of wood to form the middle, then frame them with pieces of white pine.

A press pushes the core pieces together, then activates the glue, not by heat as most presses do, but by microwaves.

Next, they sand and calibrate the core.

After the glue machine coats the core, they stick a plywood door facing on each side.

They stack a few doors at a time into a cold press for a half-hour.

Until the glue dries, then set them aside while the glue cures for another eight hours.

Next, they size the width and length to the final dimension, bevel the edges, and cut the exact height of the door.

Then they inspect the door on both sides.

A machine prepares the door for hinges.

Then another machine cuts the hole for the knob.

The finishing process takes just 70 seconds per door.

One side is sanded, stained, and sealed, then sanded again and varnished.

The machine then flips the door over and does the same thing to the other side.

The game of paintball is a cross between tag, hide-and-seek, and capture the flag.

You try to steal the other team's flag and eliminate your opponents with an air gun that shoots an exploding paint capsule called a paintball.

Paintballs are made entirely of nontoxic food-grade ingredients.

To make the hollow shell, they first pour water into a giant, heated mixing bowl.

They add a sweetener and a secret combination of food ingredients the company won't divulge.

Then, finally, the key ingredient that gives the shell its shape-- gelatin-- the kind used to make gummy bears.

They melt and mix everything for a half an hour...

Then line it up for what they call the drop-- transferring the gel from the mixer into a heated vat called the gel tote.

They filter out any globs that didn't melt.

Once the gel is securely in the tote, they lower in a giant blender.

They pour in food dye and blend for about 20 minutes.

Elsewhere in the factory, they use the same method to dye what's called the fill-- the paint that goes inside the shell of the paintball.

It's made of polyethylene glycol-- the inert liquid in cough syrup.

They thicken it with crayon wax.

The gel and fill meet their maker in what's known as the feed room.

Here, the vats of gel and fill feed a capsulation machine one floor below.

This machine is the same kind used to make bath beads and gelcap medicine.

First, the machine spreads out the gel onto a cool drum.

This creates a continuous thin sheet of gel called a gel ribbon.

This cooling cures the gelatin to the point where it can now be molded into the hollow shell of the ball.

The machine presses the gel ribbon into a dye with half-circle pockets, each forming one half of a ball shell.

The machine does the next three steps in one shot.

It aligns the two half shells together to form a hollow ball, injects the fill, then seals the two half shells together.

These newly minted paintballs are still quite soft, though.

If they're not dried out, they'll lose their shape, so they fall down onto a conveyor...

Then roll into a tumble dryer.

From here, they'll go onto a bakery-style rack until they dry out completely.

To make dual-colored paintballs, they use the exact same process but feed two colors of gel ribbon into the capsulation machine-- one color for each half of the shell.

The finished paintballs go through an automatic counting machine.

This one is set to count out and package 200 balls at a time.

Manufacturing this messy ammunition is a painstaking process, but well worth the effort to the millions who love the game of paintball.

Invented just 15 years ago, it's caught on in more than 40 countries worldwide, and it's not just for kids.

More and more companies are booking paintball outings for their employees to help build teamwork.

There was a time when our only source of news was the newspaper.

Today, though, newspapers have to compete with radio, television, and the internet.

Still, to get context and analysis of news events, most still turn to the newspaper.

In medieval times, people got the news of the kingdom from the town crier and from official notices posted in public places.

By the late 1400s, the first printed news pamphlets appeared in germany.

The first english-language newspaper hit the stands in london in 1622.

By the 1800s, new printing technology brought the price of newspapers down.

This finally made them affordable to the masses, who were becoming more literate.

The news editor selects the stories and photographs.

They come from the newspaper's own reporters and photographers and from wire services.

The news editor accesses the wire services via the internet.

Local reporters file their stories to the newsroom computer system.

The photo lab scans the photographers' pictures into the system as well.

That puts everything at the news editor's fingertips.

It's just a matter of moving the various items into the page layout.

Once the layout's complete, they group the pages in sets of four called flats.

The manager checks each flat for errors, paying special attention to the advertisements, the newspaper's main source of revenue.

Next, they prepare the printing plates for each page.

A plate is a plastic-coated sheet of aluminum, just 1/100 of an inch thick.

It goes into the cylinder of a machine called the imager.

The imager's laser beam scans the plate, hardening the plastic coating wherever the computer tells it there will be text or pictures.

The coating in the blank areas that don't harden then washes away in a series of chemical baths.

It takes about a minute for a plate to pass through those processing basins.

Next, a machine punches registration marks on each side of the plate.

The press operators will use those marks as a guide to correctly position the plate on the printing press.

After they oil the press cylinder, they attach the plates.

There's one plate per page per color to a maximum of four colors.

The newsprint comes in jumbo rolls weighing about 1,900 pounds apiece.

Workers feed several rolls into the reeling machine under the printing press.

2-sided tape connects one roll to the next, ensuring a continuous, uninterrupted run.

This is a 4-color printing process.

There's a station for each color of ink.

The paper passes through each color one at a time like a car going through an automatic car wash.

The printing starts out slowly, but within a few seconds revs up to 25 miles per hour.

Press operators adjust the colors as needed.

Each line of the press prints a 4-page flat.

Then it cuts the sheet in half lengthwise, separating two and two.

Then it cuts the continuous lengths widthwise into a 2-page spread.

Machines automatically assemble the pages in order, then send them off to the shipping department.

The stacker makes piles of 50 copies for delivery.

Then workers hand-stuff the inserts one by one.


Angle Grinders
Berry Baskets
Omnidirectional Speakers

The angle grinder created a major buzz in the workplace when it was developed in the middle of the 20th century.

This power tool could do it all-- cut, grind, and polish metal or stone.

Just change the disk or brush attachment to match the job, and work gets done automatically.

With numerous attachments available, the angle grinder could be equipped for many different jobs.

That makes it one of the most useful things on any job site.

Making angle grinders starts with these blocks of pure aluminum.

Fired in a furnace, the aluminum melts into a liquid form.

The factory casts the molten aluminum to create gear housings.

A robot transfers one of the gear housings to a milling station and then retrieves a finished part.

The door of the machine closes, and a computerized cutter carves threads into the center bearing seat and generally improves the profile of the part.

Next up is the rotor for the electric motor.

An automated system pushes special cardboard end disks onto the rotor shaft.

The part on the right is equipped with end disks.

The system now installs a part called the collector on one end.

Made of copper and plastic, the collector will transmit power to the rotor and ensure that the grinding or polishing attachment can turn.

The part on the right has had the collector installed.

Spinning arms wind copper wire into grooves in the rotor at both ends.

The wire will serve as an electromagnet and maximize power output.

Moving forward, the system inserts covers into slots in the rotor wall.

They both insulate the rotor and stabilize the copper coil.

Spinning devices wrap copper wire around each half of the stater.

This stater creates the electromagnetic field around the rotor.

A robot puts the two halves of the stater together in a fixture, and welds make the assembly permanent.

Over to an injection molding machine now, it forms plastic into outer casings for the grinder.

A robot transfers the casing to a platform for printing.

This stamp adds silver ink to the embossed company logo, giving it greater visual appeal.

A worker then slides the plastic housing over the stater, and a pneumatic machine press-fits the two together.

The worker then wires the on/off switch for the angle grinder.

The gear housing has, by now, been equipped with a drive gear and brake.

He installs the gear system on one end of the rotor.

He then inserts the rotor assembly in the stater.

An automated system screws everything together to complete the angle grinder motor.

Next, a nozzle fills the gear head with grease.

A worker places the spindle and safety clutch over the gear head, and a mechanized system screws it in place.

She then wires the electrical plug to the angle grinder motor.

She encloses the electrical wiring with a plastic cover.

She locks the cover in places with screws, using a metal template to aid in their placement.

This angle grinder is now ready to undergo quality control tests.

This one depresses the angle grinder switch, while a computerized system analyzes the motor's performance.

If it passes all the tests, the angle grinder is ready to take a chunk out of someone's workload.

Long before the development of pottery, people looked to the forest for containment materials.

They made berry baskets from the bark of birch trees.

The baskets were lightweight and waterproof, due to natural resins in the bark.

The making of these baskets is a tradition that carries on.

For containing nature's bounty, birch bark is a natural choice.

This berry basket is made entirely from materials found in nature.

Making one starts with birch bark that's been carefully pried off the tree to avoid damage to the inner layer of bark.

This cardboard pattern will be used as a template.

The basket maker examines the bark for any holes or serious flaws.

He flips the bark over.

He'll use the inner side for the outside of the basket.

He traces around the pattern, using a scribe that lightly scores the bark.

This light scoring creates a visible outline on the bark.

Using scissors for cutting leather, he follows the pattern lines to cut the bark to the pattern shape.

The contours are harder to follow, so he switches to scissors with curved blades to cut them out.

He punches holes in the basket corners.

This will stop the bark from splitting in these spots when it's folded.

Using a pointed instrument known as a divider, he now etches stitch lines around the perimeter.

He maps out the location for the stitch holes by lightly piercing the bark along the etched lines.

Using a ruler for support, he bends the flaps of the pattern up, creating creases that will become permanent folds later.

He punches out stitch holes where he had lightly pierced the bark.

He drapes a damp towel over the birch bark and irons it.

This softens the bark so that it doesn't split as he now forms the final bends along the crease lines.

He overlaps the ends of the basket.

He clips the structure to hold it together while he inserts wooden dowels in some of the stitch holes.

Once the dowels are in, he removes the clips.

The dowels will keep the basket together for stitching.

But first, he tapers the stem from a willow shrub using a wood plane.

He inserts the stem in a cylindrical container and fills the cylinder with hot water.

The tapered stem soaks overnight.

It softens and becomes extremely flexible.

Using a wooden form, he shapes the stem into a ring.

The tapered ends overlap for a consistent thickness all the way around.

He clips the ring to the inner rim of the basket and also tacks it in place with a few stitches.

This willow ring will add support to the lip of the berry basket.

Next, he stitches the seams together using the root of a spruce tree for thread.

Its tapered tip serves as a needle.

He does precise backstitches and ensures all the seams are tight.

Moving back to the rim of the basket, he punctures the bark just below the willow ring, creating a row of holes to loop the root around the rim.

This spruce root wrap protects the rim ring, and gives the basket a more finished look at the top.

He slices a piece of cedar bark into long, narrow strips.

He'll use these strips to make a handle for the basket.

He weaves the cedar into a five-strand braid.

He loops the cedar braid at the ends and uses the loops to stitch the handle to the berry basket.

It takes this artisan about a day to craft a birch bark berry basket.

His efforts will no doubt bear fruit for many years to come.

Choosing the right speakers for your sound system depends on how you prefer to hear music.

Unidirectional speakers radiate sound in a single direction.

Omnidirectional speakers radiate in all directions, so the sound bounces off the ceiling and walls.

This omnidirectional speaker system has four towers-- two main system towers and two subwoofer towers.

The towers contain the drivers that radiate sound frequencies out of the speaker.

This computer-guided mill shapes brass sheets into mounting plates for the main system towers.

Each of the main system towers contains six drivers-- two tweeters, two mid-ranges, and two woofers.

Each subwoofer tower contains six drivers for the lowest human audible frequencies.

After the brass mounting plate comes off the mill, workers grind the top surface smooth to prepare it for polishing and chrome plating.

The mill then shapes brass rings.

These are bases for the woofers, which fit an opening in the mounting plate.

Brass is the metal of choice for these parts, due to its acoustical properties.

For aesthetics, the rings are painted black, and the mounting plates are electro-plated with galvanized chrome.

In this part of the plant, they build tweeters for the main system towers.

The first step is to lay strips of resin-impregnated carbon fiber in semi-circular molds.

After removing the protective film that covers the carbon fiber, they lay foil strips at each end.

These will direct heat from the oven to the carbon fiber strips and prevent the resin from flowing out.

They assemble the molds and clamp them shut.

They place the molds in an oven for 45 minutes at a programmed series of temperatures.

This heats the resin in the carbon fiber, stiffening and forming the strips to the mold shape.

Using a punch press, workers slice each carbon fiber strip into several thinner strips.

They construct each tweeter by gluing 24 of those thin strips to the tweeter's voice coil, a ring made of wound copper wire.

They brush silicone in between the strips, coat the entire surface with more silicone, then place an aluminum cover plate on top.

They construct each mid-range driver the same way, but with carbon fiber strips that are thicker and stiffer and therefore radiate lower frequencies better than the thinner, more flexible tweeter strips.

Placing the strips with tweezers and aligning them properly with a toothpick requires a good eye, excellent dexterity, and a lot of experience.

Like the tweeter, the mid-range driver goes into an oven for 45 minutes through a specific cycle of temperatures.

Once the driver comes out of the oven and cools, they glue strips of sound-dampening foam to the inside, sealing the gaps between the carbon fiber strips.

This prevents sound from radiating inward rather than out the speaker.

They solder the cables that bring the incoming electrical signal that carries the sound frequencies.

That signal moves the voice coil up while the driver's magnet moves it back down.

The repeated up and down motion flexes the carbon fiber strips, radiating the sound frequencies.

After installing a center rod made of carbon, workers stuff the hollow space inside the driver with sound-dampening wool.

They pour lubricating oil into a narrow gap in the driver's magnet, then insert the voice coil into the gap.

The oil contains iron, so it conducts the electrical signal to the coil.

They screw an aluminum mounting plate to the magnet's posts...

Then apply a disk of a stiff sound-dampening material.

They install the tweeter's magnet on the mounting plate, feeding the tweeter's electrical cables, not yet soldered to the tweeter, through the center rod.

Next they'll make the woofers.

The sound system's amplifier delivers the electrical signal that carries all the sound frequencies.

Inside each main system speaker, an electronic component called the crossover separates the frequency ranges and sends them, via designated cables, to the appropriate driver.

They make each melon-shaped woofer out of 12 aluminum segments.

They glue acoustic foam to each segment, then trim the foam to the shape of the aluminum.

Workers assemble the woofer upside-down in an assembly fixture.

They glue the segments vertically between this woofer's voice coil, which has two cables attached to it and a mounting plate.

The structural rod through which they'll feed the other driver's cables is in the center.

Once all the segments are aligned and fixed in place, they coat the edges with glue.

Then they adhere rubber gaskets in between the segments to block the gaps and prevent air from exiting.

They seat copper strips in the segment's grooves, hooking the ends into holes at the top and bottom.

Brass, aluminum, copper--  every type of material used in these speakers has specific acoustical properties.

The combination produces a natural sound balance.

They fill the hollow interior space around the center rod with sound-dampening material.

First, synthetic insulating wool with long, coarse fibers.

Then, on top of that, a barrier of cotton-insulating wool to prevent those coarse fibers from touching the voice coil.

Next, they install the painted brass ring they milled earlier, which now has the woofer's magnet fixed to it.

They place a spacer, thread a screw, pull the voice coil's two cables through the center, then solder those cables, together with the cables from the other drivers, to a main cable that will plug into the crossover.

They flip the woofer right side up and pour a liquid sound-dampening compound into the center rod.

The cables inside are too delicate to be shoving in insulating wool.

Workers now begin assembling the speaker, first soldering the two remaining crossover cables, mid-range and high frequency, to the respective driver cables.

The tweeter connection cables are attached to the tweeter magnet, installed earlier on top of the mid-range driver.

They now mount this unit on top of the woofer.

They install the connectors in the crossover.

Its electrical components separate the frequency ranges and send each one to a designated connector, which sends it to the cable leading to the appropriate driver.

After sliding the crossover onto the speaker's base, made of milled brass, they close up the top with the mounting plates, between which they've since sandwiched a thick piece of wood.

Screw-in stainless steel support posts hold everything together and direct all the weight down to the floor, rather than into the speaker structure.

They install an aluminum crossbar for structural support, then a second set of posts.

They fit the ring at the base of the woofer into the mounting plate hole, securing it with screws.

They insert the tweeter's voice coil into the tweeter magnet that's mounted on top of the mid-range driver that's mounted on top of the woofer.

They solder the tweeter cables to the two connectors on the tweeter cover plate.

This completes the lower trio of drivers.

Now they install an identical upper trio, but upside-down so that the two tweeters face each other in the middle of the tower.

They mount the crossover for the upper trio and plug in the connector that joins the three cables.

That brings the correct frequencies to the three drivers.

They run test tones through every completed speaker.

A microphone positioned just over three feet away picks up the emitted frequencies, which a computer analyzes for accuracy.

Once the speaker passes inspection, they install a decorative grill over each woofer voice coil.

The subwoofer tower radiates the lowest frequencies, with six huge drivers and a built-in amplifier.


Microphones
Hot Tubs
Artificial Turf
Beer Steins

People have been doing mike checks since 1876, when the microphone was invented as part of the telephone.

Microphones convert sound to a signal that can be transmitted through televisions, radios, and many other things.

If you have something to say, you'll need a microphone to broadcast it.

From the glory days of radio to stage and screen and the digital age, the microphone has been at the center of it all.

To make a broadcast-quality microphone, they start with the support piece for it.

Automated tools carve a brass cylinder to the desired dimensions.

They also make a retainer ring for the microphone grille that will anchor the grille's metal mesh.

They layer three sheets of mesh and align them.

Then they solder the three sheets together.

A punch press forms the soldered mesh into a concave shape.

They lower a blade to slice the shaped mesh in half.

The two pieces will be used to make one microphone grille.

An assembler squeezes solder paste into a groove in the brass ring.

Then he presses the grille halves, which have been joined by a bracket into the solder-coated ring.

On a carousel, a torch heats the rings, and the solder paste melts to bond the grilles to the rings.

A drill punctures a brass disk up to 90 times to make ventilation holes.

Another tool levels the surface and shaves off unwanted bits.

This disk will be the backplate for one of the microphone's capsules.

An assembler brushes away any remaining shavings and then fixes the backplate in a holding device.

This plastic membrane has been coated with real gold to conduct electricity.

She places the membrane and a plastic ring on the backplate and then attaches an electrical lead.

She screws the plastic ring down to secure the assembly...

And then trims away the excess plastic membrane.

This microphone capsule is now complete.

Next, she'll join two capsules to create the unit that's the heart of the microphone.

It converts sound into an electrical signal.

An aluminum spacer goes between the capsules, which face back-to-back.

Two capsules instead of one means this microphone can be switched to pick up audio from various directions.

A plastic bracket reinforces assembly.

A technician then wires the brass support piece that we saw being made earlier to the electronic system, and then he secures it with screws.

After installing switches, he inserts the microphone capsules in the grille.

He screws the capsule assembly to the grille and joins it to the electronics.

He slides the metal casing over the electronics and secures the microphone with a big screw cap.

He checks the switch that changes the directionality of the mike.

And now it's ready for a sound check.

The mike goes into a special anechoic chamber.

A computer measures its response to various audio frequencies and directions.

Once a microphone has passed this test and some other checks, it's time to pack it up with great care, because this mike is delicate and worth several thousand dollars.

Treated properly, this microphone should last several decades.

In showbiz, that's longevity.

Like natural hot springs that are heated by the earth's crust, a hot tub can give your aching muscles that healing feeling.

In fact, the hot tub is a high-tech version of the hot-springs phenomenon, and its invention in the middle of the 20th century made the backyard steam part of the suburban dream.

There are up to a hundred jets in a modern hot tub.

Each churns up the water, making waves that have a calming effect on tense and tired muscles.

To make a hot tub, they start with a sheet of rigid acrylic.

They rest it briefly over a mold of a hot tub.

Then a framelike clamp grips it along the edges and transfers it to an oven.

The oven has heating elements on the top and bottom.

They bake the acrylic sheet until it's so soft, it sags.

They transfer the sagging sheet back to the mold.

And now they turn on a vacuum system underneath.

It sucks the acrylic sheet into the crevices of the mold so that it takes its shape.

Then fans cool the molded acrylic, and it hardens in just a couple of minutes.

Operators then stack the tub shell.

They mold swim spa shelves using the same technique.

Swim spas are longer and deeper than hot tubs.

They're for working out, not unwinding, so there aren't many ledges for sitting around.

Back in the hot-tub department, it's time for a base coat.

They spray resin on the shell and then unwind fiberglass twine into a special spray gun.

It chops up the twine and mixes it with more resin to give the shelf a fiberglass coating that reinforces the acrylic.

They press out any air pockets in the fiberglass.

Now they aim another spray gun at the underside of the tub.

This one contains insulating foam.

Then they trim the lip of the tub with a circular saw, so it will sit properly in the frame later.

They sand the edges and then drill holes for the numerous jets.

Working from inside of the tub, an assembler tucks plastic jets into the holes, while a worker on the other side pulls the jets through.

They apply silicone sealant around each jet, then equip it with a plastic ring for aligning the jet to the hot-tub frame.

Using a special tool, the assembler drives a nut into the assembly to secure it.

Next, they dip pvc tubing in adhesive and attach it to the jets, weaving an elaborate web of hoses.

The narrower tubing will pipe air to the jets, while the wider hoses will supply water.

To prevent leaks, they equip them with self-tensioning clamps.

They connect the intake pipe to the pump, which will force water into the tubing.

A suction system will return the water to this pump.

They wire the tub to provide mood lighting, then test all the wiring and plumbing.

They spray more insulating foam on the outside of the tub.

It expands drastically in closing the labyrinth of pipes and hoses.

And for some extra insulation, they wrap foil-backed plastic around the tub.

The foil will reflect any escaping heat back onto the tub.

They mount the exterior paneling and drill through the insulation to vent the pumps.

Corner molding gives the paneling a nice finish.

This hot tub is now ready to make waves in the neighborhood.

Some versions even come with tvs, so you can watch "how it's made" without leaving the hot tub.

It takes about 20 person-hours to make a hot tub or one of these swim spas.

And after that, it's time to take a break and relax.

The invention of artificial turf in the 1960s led to a whole new field-- one that never needs mowing, watering, or weeding.

Faux grass was developed by the carpet industry and made possible by technological advances, and the concept has really taken root.

Synthetic turf has changed the landscape of professional sports.

You see it in stadiums, arenas, and training fields around the world.

It all starts with bags of white plastic pellets.

This is the base material for the turf.

They add green pellets for color, along with chemical stabilizers and additives.

Equipment melts and extrudes the plastic through a steel plate with holes in it.

This creates strands of green.

The strands exit through a trough of water, which cools and solidifies them.

Machinery pulls the strands through an enormous comb to keep them separated as they head to the next station.

Here, rollers stretch the strands until they become as thin as real grass.

The stretching also strengthens them.

Spools now roll up the synthetic strands.

Once a spool is full, they remove it.

Next, they unwind several spools at a time.

The strands come together to form a multi-ply synthetic yarn.

The yarn travels over guides.

This keeps it from slackening as a big spool winds it up.

Further down the production line, mesh fabric merges with synthetic sheeting, while the multi-ply synthetic yarn travels through tubing to a tufting machine.

The tufting machine is a giant sewing machine.

It has up to 250 needles.

These needles hook the yarn through the mesh synthetic sheeting.

They make hundreds of rows of stitches per minute.

Underneath, small knives cut the looped yarn, so it looks like spikes of grass.

As you can see, this process is a whole lot faster than waiting for grass to grow.

An inspector examines the turf to make sure the yarns are even.

Then machinery moves it forward to a coating roller.

The roller picks up adhesive from a trough below and applies it to the backing of the turf as it moves across.

This binds the looped web of artificial grass to the backing.

The adhesive is a bit gooey at this point and needs to be dried.

The dryer is partly open-air and partly enclosed.

The enclosed section is about 55 yards low.

The temperature is carefully controlled.

Too hot, and the synthetic grass might melt.

As it exits, hot pins burn holes into the turf to make it water-permeable.

Now they check to make sure this grass looks good on the surface.

They pull out loose bits and measure the fibers.

Then it's over to a device that simulates the effect of football cleats to confirm this turf is tough.

To install artificial turf, they lay a rubber base and add the turf.

They distribute sand throughout spikes of grass to give the turf weight.

Then they spread rubber granules for a softening effect.

But some turf is more carpetlike-- no fillers needed.

You're more likely to see that in floor-hockey arenas.

It's time to wrap up this turf job and toss a few balls around.

And when it comes to looking like the real thing, artificial turf is definitely in the ballpark.

A stein is a beer mug with a hinged lid you open and close.

According to some historians, it's a product of the bubonic plague.

After the plague swept europe in the 1300s, municipalities enacted sanitation laws.

In germany, one law required food and beverage containers to have covers in order to keep out insects.

These traditional german beer steins, with their ornate ceramic bodies and pewter lids are functional works of art.

The word "stein" is short for a german word meaning "stoneware jug".

Production begins in the casting department with a plaster mold-- its cavity the shape and design of the stein's body.

They pour in liquid clay, wait about two hours until it thickens, then pour out whatever liquid remains.

After testing the consistency of what's still inside, they gingerly disassemble the mold, revealing the stein's body.

The mold has transferred all the intricate detail to the clay's surface.

For certain stein shapes, they get better results using solid clay.

They cut off the amount they need, then drop it inside a plaster mold.

A machine pushes the clay into every crevice of the mold cavity.

A worker trims away any excess that oozes out.

Then the mold goes into a drying machine for 20 minutes.

When it comes out, they disassemble the sections to extract the casting.

Whether made from liquid or solid clay, each stein body goes on a potter's wheel for some refining.

The potter removes seams that formed where the mold sections met.

He also trims and smoothes out the rim.

Then, using some wet clay as an adhesive, he attaches an ornate handle.

It, too, is made entirely of clay.

The factory shapes it either in a mold or with a dye in a press.

Finally, they stamp the bottom with two marks-- "made in germany" and the company brand.

Now the coloring process begins.

They coat the stein body with special paint for ceramics-- first, a watery coat of the background color all over, then a thicker coat around the reliefs to highlight them.

They rub most of the paint off the reliefs to accentuate the contrast.

Next, workers spray a milky glaze over the stein body inside and out.

This glaze is made mainly of sodium and silicon, minerals that turn into transparent glass under high heat.

This will strengthen and waterproof the stoneware beneath it.

Workers load dozens of stein bodies into an oven, where they bake at more than 2,000 degrees fahrenheit for 12 hours.

This hardens the clay, turns the colors vibrant, and transforms the glaze into a protective glass coating.

After a 12-hour cooling period, the true artistry begins.

A skilled painter embellishes the design with colorful enamel paints.

A second firing, this time for just 5 to 6 hours, bakes the paint onto the glass surface.

Now, to top it all off, the stein's ornate lid.

It's made of pewter cast in a mold.

The thumb lift pivots the lid on a hinge.

To attach the lid to the stein body, they position the thumb lift on the handle, then assemble a small mounting tool over it.

They pour in molten pewter...

Then, after a minute or so, remove the device.

The pewter has hardened into a ring attaching the thumb lift to the handle.

They clip off the excess, then buff the metal to a shine.

With their traditional scenes or more contemporary themes, these beer steins are the toast of the town.


CO2 Cartridges
Pretzels
Scissor Lifts
Skating Rinks

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

Co2 cartridges...

Pretzels...

Scissor lifts...

And skating rinks.

Sports like paintball are a pressure release in more ways than one.

Paintball guns contain pressurized co2 cartridges, and when the gas is released, the force propels the ammunition towards its target.

The cartridges are used also for things like inflating bike tires and life preservers, as they target new uses for these pressure-filled devices.

A co2 cartridge packs a lot of punch into a little package.

This one can propel dozens of shots.

To make one, they unroll some steel and straighten it out.

Then, a punch press descends with 110 tons of force, cutting the steel into disks.

Simultaneously, a machine moves up from below to shape the disks into cups.

The cups move down a vibrating lane.

They're delivered to a series of cylindrical punches, each one with a smaller diameter than the last.

Each successive punch lengthens and narrows the cups as nozzles flush them with lubricant.

The process is called redrawing, and at the end of it, the cups look more like test tubes.

In just a few minutes, that piece of steel has undergone several transformations.

To continue shaping the tubes, they heat the ends by dropping them through an induction coil.

Intense magnetic fields excite the molecules in the metal, causing it to heat up sharply.

This machine is called a necker.

As it revolves, it delivers the tubes to a series of dies that pinch their ends.

With each pinch, the ends get progressively smaller.

This creates necks in the tubes.

As the diameter of the neck narrows, the tube takes the shape of a bottle.

Now each cartridge goes on a lathe.

A cutting tool plunge-cuts the neck to shorten it.

Then it carves out a lip, the same kind of lip that's on any beverage bottle.

The cartridges now head through a washing station, where soap and water get rid of the oily lubricant.

A trip under some gas burners dries them off, and they head to the filling station.

Here there's a tankful of carbon dioxide.

The filling head pumps liquid co2 into the cartridges and then caps them.

Inside these cartridges, the gaseous form of co2 is under great pressure.

Releasing even just a little through a gun will be enough to propel things like bbs, pellets, and paintballs.

They do spot checks to make sure the cartridges are tightly sealed.

Now it's on to the next station, where they'll be made to look shiny and new.

The cartridges are inside this revolving drum, which delivers an electrical charge, attracting zinc from the tank to plate the cartridges.

The smooth zinc plating doesn't just look good.

It's a better surface to print information on.

At this rotary silk-screening station, the brand name and cautionary information are printed onto the sides of the cartridges.

A quick bake under an ultraviolet light cures the ink.

And the co2 cartridges are now ready to demonstrate the power of compression.

How and when the first pretzel came to be depends on whom you ask.

One story tells of a monk baking rewards for children who were pious.

Today's bakeries still fold the dough to resemble arms crossed in prayer, but they do it much faster, granting tasty wishes to a lot more snackers.

Although hard pretzels are more common, this company makes the more traditional soft-baked ones.

To make enough dough for 4,870 pretzels, a workers first blends shortening, sugar, and salt in a huge mixer.

The machine automatically adds yeast...

Corn syrup...

1,630 gallons of cold water..

And 760 pounds of flour.

The cold water helps make the dough elastic so workers can shape it before it hardens.

A worker then opens the mixer and slows the blades to help the dough fall out.

He splits the batch on a table, then creates chunks that go into a tank called a hopper.

It feeds an auger that challenges the dough chunks through little guillotines.

The blades chop the chunks into 2 1/2 ounce balls to make small pretzels or 5 ounce balls for large pretzels.

Two conveyer belts squeeze them into 15 1/2 inch long segments called noodles.

Another machine now grabs the ends of each noodle and twists the ends over each other to create the pretzel's three signature holes.

To keep this knot from unraveling, the plate then gently flips the pretzel dough onto another plate below.

That plate carefully flips the doughy creations onto a 118-foot long conveyer belt.

The raw pretzels now travel on the conveyer for 14 minutes, the time it takes for the dough to rise.

Next, they move through showers of liquid sodium hydroxide, heated to 180 degrees fahrenheit.

That seals in the moisture so the pretzel will be chewy when you eat it.

They go into an oven that's about the length of a city bus.

As they enter, flames sear and harden the outside.

This prevents the bottoms from sticking to the mesh conveyer belt during baking.

After about 3 1/2 minutes at 560 degrees fahrenheit, the pretzels are piping hot and golden brown.

They drop onto a long conveyer, where they gradually cool on their way to the next step--  a trip through a freezer that's longer than seven olympic-size swimming pools.

After 30 minutes at minus-28 degrees celsius, the pretzels are rock solid and ready for packaging, but first, a camera scans them so that a computer can track each pretzel and guide a robotic arm to pick it up.

This arm is one of five operating at separate points on the line.

The robots process one pretzel per second and clean up after each other until the belt is picked clean.

The pretzels then fall through a sliding gate, landing on a conveyer that whisks them off to the next step.

There, a machine drops a packet of coarse salt into each bin of six pretzels.

A mechanical arm nudges the pretzels over to make room for it.

The salt packet lets you season your pretzel the traditional way before warming it up at home.

The machine blows open plastic bags with compressed air.

Mechanical arms push the pretzels and salt packet inside.

A robot arm then places each bag into a cardboard box.

The printing on this package displays the company logo, the nutritional content, the production date, and the heating instructions.

So, next time you're looking for a salty snack, don't tie yourself up in knots.

Just have a pretzel instead.

A scissor lift is a mobile work platform that rises.

The elevating mechanism consists of arms that connect in the middle like scissors, hence the name.

Scissor lifts are common sight on construction sites, in big warehouses, and at buildings where workers need a safe way to reach heights to carry out repairs or maintenance.

The number of arms in the scissor mechanism varies according to the height of each particular model.

The factory constructs the scissor arms from steel tubes.

The first step is to cut them to the right length for the model in production.

A worker uses an air gun to blow off tiny shards of metal the cutting leaves behind.

The arms go into a press that punches a hole for a hollow steel cylinder called a boss.

The boss is the housing for a pin that will connect one arm to the other, yet still allow them to pivot like a pair of scissors.

Workers now use a magnetic crane to move the arm to the welding area.

They insert the boss into the hole, then tack it in place.

This piece will go on the end of each scissor arm, but first, they weld on another boss.

Now fully assembled, this piece is called the male scissor end.

They tack it to one end of the scissor arm and tack a female scissor end to the arm's other end.

Robots now weld the two endpieces simultaneously, then the boss in the middle.

Now workers stack the scissor arms, putting a pin in each middle boss.

They also install the hydraulic lift cylinder that will raise and lower the scissor stack.

This manifold activates the lift cylinder by increasing and decreasing hydraulic pressure.

Workers fasten the connected scissor ends to each other by driving a pin through the boss.

They secure it with a locking mechanism called a cotter pin.

Meanwhile, other workers assemble the base of the scissor lift.

At this stage, it's upside down.

At the rear, workers bolt in a hydraulic wheel motor.

Hydraulic pressure turns the motor, enabling the operator to move the scissor lift forward or backward.

They slide a wheel onto the hub and bolt it securely.

This is the wheel hub onto which the front wheel bolts.

It attaches with a pin locked by a cotter pin.

They install the hydraulic steering cylinder.

This steel tie rod links the front wheels to each other so that they turn together.

Now workers hook up the hydraulic hoses.

They pump a bit of grease in to lubricate the cylinder.

Next, they assemble and install the hydraulic tray.

It contains the electrical panel that controls all machine functions, as well as the hydraulic tank and pump.

The pump forces hydraulic fluid to the wheel motor, steering cylinder, and lift cylinder.

The hydraulic tray swings closed under the base for protection.

On the other side, they install the battery tray.

It houses the four six-volt batteries that power the scissor lift, along with the battery charger.

The scissor stack, meanwhile, is in the paint booth getting a coat of primer, then a coat of urethane paint.

This finish prevents the steel from rusting.

After curing the paint in an oven, they install the scissor stack onto the base.

Now they connect the two hoses that run between the lift cylinder and the hydraulic pump.

Through one hose, fluid goes to the cylinder to raise the scissor.

Through the other, fluid withdraws to lower the scissor.

They run cables from the electrical panel up through the scissor stack.

After installing a platform made of painted steel, they connect the cables to a control box on the platform rail.

These controls enable a worker to operate the scissor lift from the platform.

After a test drive, it's time to apply the decals, up to 75 of them depending on the model.

Some are decorative, but most specify safety information, such as the scissor lift's load capacity.

For the nhl, a regulation skating rink is 200 feet long by 85 feet wide.

The rink is basic construction, but making the ice is an art.

You have to get the thickness just right.

If the ice is too thick, it will tax the refrigeration system and soften on top, but if the ice is too thin, skate blades will cut right through it.

The rink floor is a concrete slab.

Covering it with ice begins in the arena's refrigeration room.

There, a powerful compressor pumps refrigeration fluid, usually methanol or saline, through pipes running underneath the rink's floor.

The concrete chills to between minus-15.8 and 18 degrees fahrenheit, the temperature range required for water to freeze on concrete.

This company made its own ice-making machine by retrofitting an ice resurfacer.

Its onboard water tank feeds 20 sprayers that mist a 13-foot span.

The water freezes within seconds.

To make a quality ice surface, you have to build up the ice in layers, each about .

07 inch thick.

Driving in the standard outside-inside oval pattern, each layer takes just eight minutes.

With two layers down, they paint the ice white.

You'd think it would be simpler to just paint directly on the concrete, but the paint would chip off when they remove the ice at the end of the season.

They would have to scrape and clean the slab before repainting it--  a messy, expensive job.

So, instead, the ice maker mixes water and powdered paint in the onboard tank and sprays three layers onto the ice.

This paint doesn't dry.

Just like the water the machine sprayed before, it freezes into white ice.

This metal dioxide-based paint is specially formulated for skating rinks, designed to cling to a base coat of ice.

And unlike concrete paint, it's nontoxic and biodegradable, so that at the end of the season, the arena can melt the ice and let the water drain without contaminating the environment.

Now a crew comes in to paint the hockey markings.

Workers lay down string to mark the borders of the red line, the blue lines, and the goal lines.

They elevate intersecting lines so that the paintbrush can pass.

To paint the face-off circles, workers use an anchor, cable, and what's called a paint stick.

It takes just 20 minutes or so to paint them.

The paint is in a portable tank.

It flows down the paint-stick tube to a rectangular pad on the end.

Now the goal crease at each net.

First, they trace a template, then fill in with a shade of blue you see in swimming pools.

They use the same technique to paint the eight red face-off spots.

Back to the blue line.

First, they spray water to freeze the strings in place.

Then, using a brush on the same type of paint stick they use for the circles, they fill in the foot-wide space between the strings.

Now for the home team's logo at center ice.

After dabbing a mop in blue chalk, they run it over a computer-generated paper stencil of the logo.

This transfers the design outline to the ice.

They spray water on the chalk lines to freeze them in place, then paint the logo.

Finally, with a garden hose, they spray water over all the markings to seal the paint.

Then they slowly flood the ice with the larger hose for about a day and a half.

This adds the final 1.1 inches of ice.

The now-skateable ice surface is about 1.6 inches thick, containing over 13,000 gallons of water, about 300 bathtubs full.


Carbon Fibre
Antique Frame Restoration
Railcar Movers
Hood Ornaments

Carbon fiber is an engineer's dream-- lightweight yet incredibly strong.

It's a string with thousands of parallel filaments.

Multiple strings can be twisted into yarns, woven into fabrics, or molded with resin to produce materials called carbon-fiber composites.

Carbon fiber is five times stronger than steel yet less than half the weight.

To make it, they take a plastic fiber composed of thousands of filaments far thinner than human hair.

They then chemically alter it to form a perfect chain of carbon atoms for the final product.

This mammoth machine lines up dozens of those fibers which then travel through an oxidation oven for a couple of minutes.

The oven temperature, about 480 degrees fahrenheit, prompts the fibers to pick up oxygen molecules from the air.

This rearranges the fibers' atomic structure, rendering them resistant to high heat.

As the fibers oxidize, they change color to eventually turn black.

They're now primed for the next process, carbonization.

Furnaces heat the fibers in an oxygen-free gas mixture.

This expels the non-carbon atoms and transforms the remaining carbon atoms into tightly bonded crystals running parallel to the length of the fiber.

This gives the fiber its strength.

The exiting fibers travel through a bath of electrically charged water that etches the fibers' surface so they'll better absorb resin.

The next station applies a light preliminary coat of resin.

This will strengthen the fibers' chemical bond to the molding resin.

A spooling machine winds each fiber, now referred to as a carbon-fiber tow, onto a bobbin which buyers either weave into a carbon-fiber fabric or mix with resin to mold a product.

Another form of carbon fiber is prepreg-- sheets of resin-impregnated carbon fiber ready for molding.

It's like ready-to-bake cake mix.

The resin is a formula of epoxy and various powdered hardeners and accelerators.

Workers pour the resin into a filming machine which spreads it in a thin, wet layer onto paper.

The paper is pre-treated with a release agent to prevent the final product from sticking, like spraying a baking pan with non-stick coating.

Another machine, meanwhile, groups 200 to 300 carbon-fiber tows into a giant band of fibers called a web.

The width and thickness of the web determines the width and thickness of the prepreg sheet.

Workers mount two rolls of resin-coated paper onto the resin-impregnation machine.

A heating element warms up the web as it enters to facilitate resin absorption.

Then the heated carbon-fiber web is sandwiched between two sheets of resin-coated paper.

High-pressure heated rollers thin out the resin so it penetrates the millions of carbon-fiber filaments.

Cooling plates then turn the liquid resin to gel so that the next station can remove the paper, which pulls off easily thanks to the release agent.

The next station covers the top of the prepreg sheet with polyester film.

This prevents the prepreg sheet from sticking to itself at the end of the line when it's wound into a roll like a fruit roll-up.

In the factory's lab, technicians run quality control tests on prepreg samples.

First they weigh the sample.

Then they wash off the resin with chemicals and weigh the sample again.

This verifies whether the ratio of carbon fiber to resin is correct.

The lab also analyzes samples of composite-- carbon-fiber reinforced resin-- in this tensile strength test.

The computer measures how much strain the sample withstands before breaking.

Such testing ensures the carbon fiber delivers optimum strength, durability, and heat resistance, whether it's used to make an auto part, a wind-turbine blade, or a golf club.

Antique gilded frames have spent many years protecting paintings and enhancing them.

But over time, grime can obscure the gold-leaf shine and the frame can suffer damage and deterioration.

But these frames are highly collectible, and restoring them preserves their value.

With elaborate cast ornamentation and gold-leaf work, this 19th-century gilded frame is itself a work of art.

But it's in need of renewal.

Restoration work done many years ago has cracked, and gold leaf is deteriorating elsewhere on the frame.

The technician carefully pries the cracked acorn casting loose and removes it from the frame.

He'll make a new one from scratch.

It will need to completely fill the empty space and look exactly like the others on the frame.

He starts by making a mold with dental impression rubber.

He kneads the two putty-like components together to activate the ingredients.

When the color's uniform and there are no streaks, the rubber is ready for molding.

He must act quickly because in just three minutes the rubber will cure.

He presses it around the acorn ornament on the frame to capture the detail.

He now has a mold he can use to cast a new ornament for the frame.

He'll use this wood epoxy for that.

Like the dental impression rubber, it must be mixed thoroughly to activate it.

He presses the epoxy into the contours of the mold, pushing it from one end to the other.

This will prevent air from becoming trapped in the casting and compromising its integrity.

After a 10-minute cure, the epoxy casting is ready, and he extracts it from the mold.

He examines the detail and confirms that it is an exact reproduction.

Then, using a scoop chisel, he sculpts the edges and the inside of the casting to shape it to the picture frame.

In this comparison shot, the shaped part is the one on the left.

He places the cast epoxy ornament on the frame and nails it down.

The epoxy is still soft enough that he can drive the nail into it without breaking it.

He fills the gap between the casting and the frame with more epoxy, providing a seamless transition from new to old.

After the epoxy solidifies, he brushes something called bole onto it.

Bole is a mix of clay and rabbit-skin glue.

It provides a surface that the gold can adhere to, and the rabbit-skin glue will give it flex as the wood expands and contracts.

He then transfers the 23-karat gold leaf to the casting.

Before he lays each piece of gold leaf, he wets the surface of the ornament with a gilder's liqueur-- a mix of water, alcohol, and rabbit-skin glue.

This causes the gold leaf to conform to the contours of the ornament and adhere.

After the golf leaf sets for an hour or two, he burnishes it to a very high shine using a tool made from agate, a very hard, semiprecious stone.

Hundreds of years ago, craftsman used dogs' teeth for this job.

He rubs the shiny, new gold surface with very fine-grade steel wool.

This removes some of the gold to simulate natural wear so that it matches the patina of the rest of the frame.

And what a transformation this plain epoxy casting has undergone.

Newly gilded, and it looks like it's always been part of the antique frame.

Other sections of the frame require regilding.

He rubs alcohol onto those areas to get rid of atmospheric residue that would prevent the adhesion of the new gold.

And after applying gilder's liqueur, he lays sheets of the new gold leaf over the old, working with a steady rhythm to give the area complete coverage.

He's aiming for more of a matte finish on this section, so he doesn't polish it.

He brushes a protective coat of shellac onto it.

He's used a combination of old materials and new to restore this antique gilt frame, and it's picture-perfect.

Pushing and pulling railcars at the train yard is the job of a large motorized vehicle appropriately called a railcar mover.

It switches the cars from one track to another, shuttles them in and out of the cargo loading area, and positions them in line behind the locomotive.

A railcar mover has to drive both on and off the train track, so it has two types of wheels-- four steel rail wheels for guiding it on the track and four wheels with rubber tires for driving on the ground.

When building a railcar mover, they start with the frame.

A computer-guided plasma cutter cuts out all the frame parts from a 4-inch-thick steel plate.

Once all the frame parts are ready, workers begin welding them together.

They position the deck plate, the mover's floor, upside down and weld on the frame rails.

These will hold the axles for the rubber wheels.

Then, to those frame rails, they weld the rail arm mounts.

These will hold the rail arms which hold the rail wheels.

After welding several additional components to the frame, workers bolt the axles for the rubber wheels to the frame rails...

Then the rail arms to the rail mounts.

Now the frame goes to the paint shop for a coat of primer followed by a coat of automotive paint.

Workers also roll on a textured floor coating to create a non-slip surface for the driver to safely walk to and from the cab.

When the paint dries, the frame returns to the assembly line where workers begin mounting the 4.5-foot-wide rail wheels onto the rail arms.

After mounting each wheel on the spindle, they install a bearing, then a large nut.

They must tighten the nut to the correct torque yet not over-tighten it, or the wheel won't turn freely.

Once they've got just the correct torque, they secure the nut with a retaining lock nut.

They finish off this installation with the rail-wheel equivalent of a hubcap.

This steel cover holds in the grease that lubricates the wheel and bearing while keeping out dust and dirt.

Next they mount the four rubber wheels, securing each one with a dozen bolts.

These steel wheels with rubber tires are about 6 1/2 feet in diameter.

Workers mount several other components, including a pair of air tanks with gauges for the railcar's pneumatic brake system.

These are the brakes the driver uses when the mover is coupled to railcars.

When it's not, the mover has its own separate hydraulic brake system, the components of which workers also install at this stage.

They attach a hydraulic cylinder to the steer axle.

This controls the steering of the rubber wheels when the mover is off the train track.

The rail wheels, of course, don't require any steering, as they simply follow the track.

Now workers install the 300-horsepower diesel engine.

It's already bolted to the transmission.

Then they hook up the electrical wiring, which connects the engine and transmission to the computer controlling them.

They lower the hood over the engine and transmission.

The hood has three components already installed-- the engine air intake, air cleaner, and muffler.

Finally, they install the cab.

It has a steering wheel for driving off-rail and a control console that rotates 180 degrees to let the driver operate at whichever side of the cab provides the best view of all the railcars the mover is pulling or pushing.

The finished railcar mover doesn't leave the factory before a burn-in period in the test pit.

The test is so intense, the rubber tires have to be cooled with water.

Pulling as many as 40 railcars at a time is no job for a lightweight.

That's why a railcar mover weighs in at up to 45 tons.

At first, hood ornaments were used to beautify external temperature gauges and radiator caps.

They then evolved into signature pieces that embodied the car brand.

And when the radiator caps were moved under the hood, the ornaments stayed on top.

A hood ornament is a little piece of automotive art.

Popular mainly on luxury cars now, these ornaments symbolize the spirit of the car and can make quite a statement on the street.

Each ornament starts with an aluminum mold that consists of many parts in order to achieve a complex shape.

An injector pumps specially formulated wax into the mold cavity.

The wax solidifies quickly.

The operator dismantles the mold and removes the cast wax model.

The detail is impressive.

He examines it for flaws.

He cools the model in water until the wax firms.

This wax model will be used to make a mold to cast the metal ornament using a technique that dates back thousands of years.

He attaches numerous cast models to a wax riser by melting the wax a little so they adhere.

The next worker then dips the models and riser into specially formulated ceramic slurry.

He makes sure that the liquid covers every detail.

Still wet, the models then go into the rain sander, so named because it actually rains grit.

The grit sticks to the models for a stucco effect.

He repeats the ceramic dip and grit process three times to build up substantial shells around the wax models.

These shells will serve as molds to cast the hood ornament.

In this case, the casting material is steel.

They melt rejected hood ornaments with steel chunks to transform them into a white-hot liquid.

The ceramic models have by now been cured and the wax melted out.

Workers ladle the molten steel into the riser feeder cup.

The steel flows into all of the ceramic molds.

They top it off with a manganese mixture that catches fire and keeps the steel hot and liquid a little longer, ensuring that it feeds into all of the molds.

The steel cools for several hours and solidifies.

An employee then breaks open the network of molds to reveal the cast hood ornaments.

He inserts a pneumatic hammer into the feeder cup, and it shakes off most of the remaining ceramic shards.

This machine blasts off the rest using very fine stainless-steel particles.

They're ready to cut the cast ornaments free from the main base.

With the riser on its side, the worker slices off one hood ornament at a time using an aluminum-oxide cutting wheel.

At this angle, he can't make a clean cut.

He leaves a fairly thick chunk on the base.

He grinds off that chunk using an abrasive belt.

The base of the hood ornament is now smooth and level.

Next he refines the shape of the hood ornament.

He grinds away excess material to improve the profile of the piece and generally clean it up.

This process also adds shine to the stainless steel.

To give the hood ornaments a real polish, they plunge them into a sulfuric-acid solution.

The solution eats away impurities to expose the nickel.

A worker buffs each hood ornament against a cloth wheel until it gleams.

He examines his work under a magnifying glass.

Defects won't be tolerated, and even at this stage, the statuette could be rejected and melted into a new one.

It passes inspection.

Made of steel, silver, or gold, a hood ornament on a luxury car is a great way to say you've arrived.