Sawhorses & Toolboxes Sorbet Pops School Buses
When it comes to construction, renovation, or simply repairs, whether you're a seasoned pro or a do-it-yourselfer, having the right tools makes the job easier. Sawhorses support the piece of wood you're cutting, and a toolbox keeps your implements organized and portable. Sawhorses are always sold in pairs because you need two under a piece of wood to stabilize it for cutting. By pulling the hinged tray upward, the sawhorse collapses flat for transport and storage. This model is made from pellets of an exceptionally strong type of polypropylene plastic. A vacuum system draws the pellets into an injection-molding machine. The machine melts them then shoots the liquid into a mold. It takes about a minute for the liquid to solidify, at which point the mold automatically opens, and an articulated robotic arm removes the parts-- for each sawhorse, two halves, the legs, and two panels which form the collapsible hinged tray that holds those legs open. The robot drops those parts at the first assembly station, where a worker joins each panel to a sawhorse half and applies non-slip footpads. These pads help keep the sawhorse stable and protect the floor from scratches. The worker lays out the parts for both sides of the sawhorse in a positioning fixture then activates the press a couple of times to snap the parts together. At the next station, a worker inserts ribbed rubber pads into molded holes on top of each sawhorse half. These anti-slip pads help hold large pieces of wood steady on the sawhorse. Next, he lays both sawhorse halves on the work table and with a tool called a stamping arm, snaps the two panels together. This forms a strong hinge, which opens and collapses the tray. The sawhorse is now finished and heads to the packaging station. There, a worker stacks two sawhorses, then, with a foot pedal, activates a machine which binds them with a plastic strap. Then she tapes on a wrap-around label. Have tools, will travel. This two-piece toolbox consists of a large storage tub on the bottom and a spacious toolbox on top. Like a rolling suitcase, it has two large polypropylene wheels with molded-on rubber treads and a collapsible pull handle. A toolbox doesn't have to withstand pressure bearing down on it, so it's made of standard, rather than high-strength, polypropylene. The injection-molding process is the same. The storage tub, the toolbox bottom, and the toolbox lid are each molded separately. In the assembly area, workers apply an adhesive label on the front of the toolbox then install the latches for locking the lid. The latches slide into molded slots. After inserting a removable tray, workers install the lid with a few strikes of a non-marring urethane hammer. Both lid and latches snap in easily because the polypropylene is still hot and flexible. Once it cools and becomes rigid, the lid and latches can't dislodge. To assemble each wheel, workers position a star nut and steel axle into the wheel, then, with an assembly ram, press the axle into the star nut to lock the parts together. They snap a wheel onto each side of the tub portion of the toolbox, then, with a press, force the wheels into their final locked position. Once the toolbox and tub portions are each separately assembled, workers hang a parts tray on the rim of the tub then sit the toolbox on the tray and lock it in place with two large side hinges. And that completes construction of this workshop on wheels. Traditionally, sorbets have been dished up between courses to refresh the palate, but served in a squeezed-up pop, a sorbet becomes a snack you can grab anytime-- no need for scoops, spoons, or dishes. Just squeeze the sorbet out of the paper sleeve. Now that's refreshing. A long favorite of foodies, fruit sorbet has gone mainstream with these squeeze-up pops. More fun than a few scoops in a dish, sorbet pops are also lower in calories than a lot of other snacks. They start with freeze-dried rice syrup. They pour it into a mixing vat that's a mega version of a home blender. They add strawberry puree. This is the main ingredient of the sorbet pops. The berries were pulped within 12 hours of harvest. The next ingredient is cane sugar. It's followed by strawberry essence-- compounds extracted from the berries for more intense flavor. They turn on the tap for the final ingredient-- water. It's time to close the lid and power up this industrial blender. The mixer has four blades that turn at a high velocity. They whip up the sorbet ingredients to the consistency of a fruit smoothie. The sorbet mixture then flows into refrigerated pipes that chill the mixture to 40 degrees fahrenheit. The pipes wind around the factory and finally deliver it to holding tanks. Inside, an agitator swirls the chilled mixture to maintain the smoothie-like consistency. Once a tank is full, a technician tests the acidity and the level of suspended sugars in the mixture. If the levels are right, they transfer the mixture into a continuous freezer. It pumps air into the sorbet mix, and it churns and scraps it against the freezing-cold walls of the machine. Cool water runs through the motor to keep it from overheating as it freezes the sorbet. This is only a partial freezing to keep the sorbet soft enough to be pumped into the paper squeeze tubes. A device with little robotic fingers pries the papers tubes from a stack and deposits them in slots in a moving tray. The tubes are in position to receive the partially frozen sorbet, and because the sorbet is only partially frozen, it is able to now flow through conduits. Frozen solid, it couldn't make the journey to the squeeze tubes. As the sorbet is pumped into the paper sleeves, its temperature is critical. It is precisely 37.8 degrees fahrenheit. One degree cooler and it would be too thick to pump. A degree warmer, and ice crystals would form during the final freezing. The next machine collects foil lids from a pack, using rubber heads with tiny magnets in the center. It deposits the lids onto the sorbet-filled tubes. The foil lids stick to the glue-coated rims. This line fills 280 paper sleeves with fruit sorbet per minute. That's just under 17,000 per hour. An iron applies heat to the lids to further melt the glue and provide a water-tight seal. It happens fast so the sorbet doesn't have time to start melting. Sealed and partially frozen, the sorbet pops cascade into crates. Each one holds about 100 pops, so they don't need to keep count. And then it's into the blast freezer, also know as the shock freezer. Fans circulate the cold air to rapidly lower the temperature of the sorbet pops, bringing it down to -24 degrees fahrenheit. This fast freezing prevents the formation of large ice crystals that would damage the consistency and flavor of the sorbet pops. Out of the freezer, a mechanized arm grabs and opens cardboard boxes. A pusher shoves the sorbet pops into the boxes. And they're ready to grab and squeeze. The big yellow school bus puts millions of children on the road to an education. It all started in the 19th century with horse-drawn trucks known as kid hacks. The word "hack" was short for hackney carriage. In the 20th century, they were motorized and became known as school buses. Every school day, children across north america wait for the school bus. Appearance-wise, it's hard to miss. Big and yellow, it is deliberately conspicuous, designed to stand out in traffic so other drivers slow down and take notice. Manufacturing starts with a support structure-- the steel underframe. They arrange several short rails down the top of two long frame rails. These cross rails will link the long rails and provide strategic support. Using the lift, they raise the long rails, and the cross rails slide into position just under the rims of the long ones. Now, in a fixture that pins the rails together, workers bolt them together. With the school-bus underframe assembled, they roll in two enormous wheel axles complete with brakes. Overhead cables lift the bus frame and workers guide it into place on the axles. They attach the axles to the frame with metal brackets, shackles, and spacers where needed. The chassis is ready for the engine. They lower it onto the front of the frame and secure it with bolts. The school-bus engine packs a lot of power. It's diesel-fueled with six cylinders. Next up is the front cal assembly, which includes the instrument panel and steering column. A workers wires the steering wheel to the controls in the column and slides it into place. They mount the tires and rims-- four on the back axle to handle the heavier passenger load and two on the front. Using a multi-pronged tool, the worker tightens numerous nuts to fasten the wheels to the axles. They now encase the engine with a fiberglass hood. The hood has been pre-painted and equipped with cross-view mirrors and headlights. They bolt it to the vehicle frame, and after adding antifreeze and coolant, the bus is technically drivable. They roll it over to a test station to check the brakes. The wheels turn on rollers so the bus runs in one spot. A computer monitors the performance of both the front and back brakes as a driver applies them. They now move on to build the school-bus body. The body starts with the floor. They unwind double-sided galvanized steel into a machine that slices it into panels. It also cuts holes to be used for assembly. A forming machine folds the sides to create support beams. Two more steel beams will really stiffen the floor panel. A worker positions those beams on the panel, and an automated machine welds them to it. It feeds the floor panel to the welder incrementally so it can spot weld down the length of the beams. It takes dozens of welds to solidly secure the steel supports. And with those reinforcements, the floor panel is complete. It's ready for assembly. Workers arrange several panels upside down in a precise configuration. Then it's into a second automated welder that joins them to make one school-bus floor. After manually welding pockets for wheels, a machine called the floor flip picks up the bus floor and turns it rightside up. They're now ready to build the passenger compartment, so stay tuned. A school bus transports precious cargo-- children. To hold the average bus together, they use an incredible 6,100 rivets, bolts, and screws and make a total of 840 welds. For the maker of school buses, there's strength in those numbers. To build the frame for the school-bus walls and ceiling, they bend steel beams into bow shapes. A hydraulic machine with pushers does the job in seconds, achieving an exact radius. The bows will serve as ribs for the school-bus body. They make several bows for each bus. The precise number depends on the bus size and capacity. Workers plug the ends of the bows into holes in steel rails and secure them with bolts. They weld lateral supports higher up, and the cage-like skeleton of the school bus takes shape. They're now ready to build on this framework. They attach the metal windshield surround. The team then moves the steel side sheets and skirting into place. They secure these panels with super-strong adhesive and numerous rivets. Using cables and nylon straps, they pull steel sheets to the roof structure to make them conform to the contours. The steel is 20-gage-- a grade that's flexible enough to be easily bent. The cables hold the steel panels tightly to the roof structure while the workers rivet them to it. The number of rivets and the strength of the joints are among many government safety standards the school bus must meet. Working from the inside, they glue fiberglass insulation into the pockets of the cage to keep the bus warm in winter and cool in summer. The insulation will also muffle road noise and absorb some of the student chatter for a quieter ride. The team installs steel panels on the ceiling. These panels have tiny perforations to allow sound to escape into the insulation. They tape up the windows and doors and sand some areas as they now prepare to paint the exterior of the bus. The paint, national bus yellow, takes the metal from dull to bold. This shade was developed specifically for school buses and can be noticed even with peripheral vision. With the paint now dry, they open the doors and lay a plywood subfloor inside. It too will absorb noise. An employee drives the chassis over to the school-bus-body production line, and parks it. Using cables, they lift the bus body over to the chassis. At over three and a half tons, it's hefty. They gently lower it onto the frame rails and mate the front to the hood. They tie the body to the frame with heavy-duty clips. They arrange the seating to surround the passengers with cushioning. This creates compartments around the occupants to protect them in a collision. Outside, a worker applies school-bus lettering. Another worker presses an adhesive-backed manufacturer's emblem to the hood. They equip the bus with the flashing lights and stop signs to get the attention of other drivers when children are loading and unloading. They also install a crossing gate to keep children within the bus driver's sight line. They test all of the warning lights and safety devices. And satisfied that everything is operational, the bus rolls off the production line. It's taken a day and a half to build it, and when it comes to an education, it's ready to deliver.