All language subtitles for The.Mightiest.S03E02.Danger.On.Duty.1080p.AMZN.WEB-DL.DDP5.1.H.264-RAWR_track4_[eng]

In a world of dangerous work,

modern machines and
technological advancements

can mean the difference between
life and death on the job.

From deep woods timber titans,

to mills of molten metal
and rugged road warriors,

mighty machines are doing their
part to keep humans safe

while getting the job done.

Welcome to the forest...

...where the deadly work of
cutting, stripping,

and transforming
towering trees into timber

is done by a team
of powerful machines.

Cut off,
we grab 'er, down she goes.

Timber isn't just raw material;

it's the backbone of hundreds

of other industries
around the world.

When I see a tree,
I'm sizing it up to see

what best I can
get out of that tree.

These backwood goliaths

are tackling one of the most
dangerous jobs on the planet.

Oh!

Perfect!

Getting a tree from
the forest and into the mill

is no easy task.

In any terrain,
anything can happen.

You've always got
to be on your toes.

You've always got to
watch where you're going.

Machines
like the feller buncher,

forwarder, and harvester
make the job look simple.

I do some of the work,

but the machine does
most of the work to do it.

But this job is
anything but simple.

This block we're in today,

it's about 1,000 acres.

Working in this environment,
harvesting trees,

getting the bushes ready
for logging operations,

makes it very,
very challenging.

The trees aren't just
sitting in front of you.

So, we're looking
for a good quality,

generally pine trees -
spruce, jack pine, red pine.

While the work

of bringing down timber
is highly mechanized now,

it all started with
axe-wielding lumberjacks...

Timber!

...who put their lives
on the line each day

to make it happen.

Logging has always
been a death trap.

You're dealing with huge,
unpredictable trees

and rough terrain,

throw in nasty weather
and heavy machinery,

and it's no wonder
it's still one of

the deadliest jobs out there.

Forestry has been
part of civilization

from the earliest times,

and so has the risk that comes
with harvesting the timber

that builds our world.

Initially, humans took
just what they needed,

but as the European
colonies expanded,

so did the demand for lumber.

Back then, it was all
about getting as much wood out

as fast as possible.

Occupational health and
safety was almost non-existent.

Workers relied
on their instincts

and what more experienced
loggers taught them.

After World War II,
machines took over.

Chainsaws replaced handsaws,

and harvesters did
the work of entire crews.

The main hazards

in the original days
was you got a man

out in the bush with
a chainsaw, cutting trees,

limbing trees, they had felling
hazards, overhead hazards.

Increased productivity
brought increased risks.

Now, it wasn't just trees

that crushed people,
but heavy machines, too.

The chainsaw led to

a dramatic increase in
amputations and deaths.

These horrific accidents
provided the evidence necessary

to create the vital safety
standards we strive for today.

But machines
dramatically improved safety.

Today, these woodland warriors
are evolving, becoming smarter

and stronger.

Throttle up,
get the engine to RPM,

turn on the hydraulics,

time to go cut some trees.

This mega machine,

the feller buncher,
is 28 tonnes

of timber terminating power,

stretching five metres long and
three and a half metres tall.

It's like a bulldozer
crossed with a tank.

This is the feller buncher.

It's the machine that cuts
the tree, picks it up, grabs it,

carries it around, puts it down
wherever you want it to.

Imagine ten Paul Bunyan's

rolled into one steel giant.

This beast can bunch
five trees in one go,

depending on their size.

With a machine like this,
you could easily do

500 to 800 trees in one day.

Put 'em down nice and easy.

Right there. Perfect.

That's the equivalent of
12 men with chainsaws and axes

working an entire week.

It's a game-changer.

It gathers trees
in its massive metal fist,

like grasping blades of grass.

This is what they call
the 'big fingers'.

So, these fingers
have all the power.

Once you cut a smaller tree, you
close with both sets of fingers.

Small fingers will stay closed,

and you can open these ones up,
and what happens is

the small fingers will
hold the tree in place,

and you can cut more
than one tree at a time.

These ones will open up
and grab the next tree.

The fingers open wide,

the saw spins into action,

and the head
closes in on the target.

Within a few seconds,
it's on to the next conquest

to repeat the process.

Fingers, they're
connected to the boom,

which does all the lifting work.

It picks it up,
swings side to side,

and you can put it down
wherever you want.

Down he goes!

The mammoth nine-metre boom arm

is longer than a city bus
and can lift nearly six tonnes.

That's as much as a
fully loaded truck trailer.

Add a 360-degree swing,
and this steel giant

can grab trees from any angle

while locked in
a single position.

This is what
they call a 'hot saw'.

So, once you turn it on,

it's going continuous
at a very high rate of speed.

It doesn't stop
until you turn it off.

In the past,

a lumberjack
was only as good as his axe.

A modern logger is just as
reliant on their saw blade.

This over metre-and-a-half wide
circular cutter

spins at almost
1,200 rotations per minute -

the equivalent of over
300 kilometres per hour -

meaning the blade
can slice through

just about any tree trunk
like a flash of lighting.

Now, let's see how long
it takes to stop that blade.

The blade's turned off.

That's how much momentum
that blade has,

even when it's turned off.

But all that work
can bust up the blade

and lead to catastrophe.

The saw is the most
dangerous part because

there's obstacles in the woods,
like there's stones and stuff.

Sometimes you
will hit a stone.

These are just carbide teeth.

If you do hit a stone,

sometimes, the teeth
will break and they'll fly.

They can fly up to 500 feet.

You don't know where
they're going to go.

You can't see them
when they're going that fast.

Even on the boom,
it says, "stay back 500 feet,"

and that's the reason why.

This forest crusher
ploughs through the trees

with a 284-horsepower engine,

about the same as
a modern-day muscle car.

But out here, the machine
takes a bigger beating

than a racer does
on the track.

Every morning,
I have to do a circle check.

One thing I do is
I check the oil.

Oil dipstick is right here;
you take it and you pull it out,

you take a look at the level.
Level's good.

Then, over here
is the air breather,

where it takes-- the engine
needs fresh air to operate.

Sucks a lot of dirt in there.

The machine's got
to work really hard

to get that air sucked
through that filter.

If the filter gets plugged,
then the exhaust will turn blue.

You'll lose a lot of power;
you'll know.

Once the trees come
down, they're sliced, diced,

and ready for the mill
by a 28-tonne tree slayer

known as the harvester.

Its role is to
strip every branch

from the trunk
and cut timber

to the exact
size needed.

I don't know what's better -
the strip it or the rip it.

This machine's so powerful,

it can pick up an entire tree,

and at least pick it up
and move it where I want it.

It can probably pick up
a few hundred pounds.

It feels like I can move
pretty much the world with it.

It's anything
I can fit that head around,

I can probably move it.

The harvester

has turned timber extraction
into an oversized game

of pick-up sticks.

Its colossal
eight-metre boom arm

grabs trees with savage power,

as the massive
mechanical saw head

rips and chops them
to size in seconds.

Wheels pull the tree through the
head's enormous two-metre grasp

like threading a giant needle
with a telephone pole.

Traveling at
five metres per second,

each of the four
delimbing blades

trim the branches
from the trunk.

It grips the wood,

as it gathers the perfect
measurements for the mill.

Finally,
the 75-centimetre cutter

slices the trunk
into custom lengths.

But this is mostly ideal
for big, gnarly timber.

The biggest tree
I've ever cut with this

is probably around
a 28-inch tree.

The operator
sets the knife pressure

based on the size and what kind
of trees you're cutting.

Then, smart tech kicks in

and automatically adjusts the
pressure to strip off branches.

This keeps the tree's
natural protection intact,

so you don't
waste valuable wood.

I like this machine

because it takes all the
guesswork out of everything.

It does it all for you.

It's a pretty smart machine,
pretty sophisticated.

Back when machines
were purely mechanical,

operators had to do
everything by hand.

After a few hours,

your arms were dead from
wrestling the controls.

And if a tired operator
missed a lever

or made a wrong cut,
it could be deadly.

Now, onboard
smart systems like GPS,

safety kill switches,

360-degree cameras,
and autonomous navigation

keep operators out of
the most dangerous areas

and take over tasks,

so there's way less chance
for deadly human error.

But all the tech in the woods

still can't outsmart gravity.

I've got to watch out
for a dead tree

that can break off at any time
and come back and hit me.

So, these bigger trees,

like this red pine,
you have to be careful.

I've had quite
a few come and hit the cab.

Falling trees

are a constant hazard
when working in the woods.

You need to deal
with them immediately

and get them off the site.

They're structurally sawdust -

a very dangerous tree.

These dead trees
have to be cut

because they could
fall at any time.

You got to worry
about them falling on the cab

and possibly damaging the cab

and possibly killing you,
more or less, too.

Cabs like this have reduced

fatalities and
near-fatal injuries.

They're armoured cocoons,
made of steel,

and the windows
are made from Lexan,

which is
essentially bulletproof.

As stable as the machine looks,

they can be rolled
over onto their sides,

if you're not careful
in the rougher terrain.

Once the machine goes over,
it can shake you up pretty bad.

The cab is very safe.

It's designed to roll over,

and it's also designed to take a
hit from a fairly big tree.

It's basically, a steel
shell that keeps you alive

when the forest
is trying to kill you.

Every day is a great day when
you're in the bush alone,

so just enjoying nature.

However,
all the harvester's

hard work means nothing

if the timber
just sits there.

They've got to
get it to the mill.

Enter the forwarder.

The forwarder may not
look as tough

as its timber teammates,

but it has a major role:
collecting the felled trees

and cleaning up their mess.

Shouldering up to 13.5
tonnes of timber at a time,

this muscle-bound
loader swoops in

with its eight-wheel
drive transmission

and clears timber to safe ground
before it's too late.

The forwarder
isn't just hauling;

it's on a rescue mission.

Every log
lying in the woods

is losing value
every minute that it sits.

Weather and bugs can quickly
turn that premium wood

into waste.

Forestry machines feed

a $992 billion
global market.

To put that
into perspective,

all the wood generated
around the world

could be enough to produce over
100 million homes each year.

And it doesn't stop there.

Timber isn't just
for houses,

it's for your packaging,
telephone poles,

coffee cups, and toilet paper.

If timber stops
coming down, everything crashes.

Nearly 33 million jobs
depend on it worldwide.

And once it arrives at the mill,
that timber becomes currency.

We are exporting our
product all over the world.

Every one of these logs that
you see here in the yard

will become a piece
of lumber or a square.

We have some of the
best quality in the world.

From untamed wilderness

to global marketplace,

that's the power of
an industry built on timber.

The future of the forest
industry looks bright.

We need that for housing, we
need that for everyday supplies,

and the best thing
is it is renewable.

It'll always be there for us,

as long as we tend to it
and we look after it.

So, you know,
the cycle just continues.

These mechanical
guardians of the woods

are conquering
the forces of nature,

fulfilling their duty
in the face of danger.

They persevere,
harvesting tomorrow's world,

while keeping
today's workers alive,

one massive tree at a time.

In Iowa,

a team of mechanical titans are
waging war with fire and fury.

These are no ordinary machines.

They are industrial dragons,

spewing rivers of
molten metal and red-hot steel,

harnessing temperatures
hotter than the Earth's core.

This is one of America's

most challenging
industrial environments,

where scrap metal
is reborn as mighty steel.

And at the centre of this
superheated steel mill

stands the ultimate
melting machine.

An electric arc furnace -
a mechanical inferno

continuously
fuelled by scrap metal.

The electric
arc furnace

is used to
melt scrap steel

into liquid steel,
as our iron base,

to make new
steel plate for our customers.

Sometimes, it's a little
nerve-racking, you know?

All right, guys.

175 tonnes of steel scrap

that goes in will
get melted down

in around 45 minutes
and tapped out into a ladle.

To turn scrap into steel,

you need a steady supply
of shredded metal

to charge the furnace.

So, right now, you can see

these cars right in
front of us have

what's called 'shredded scrap'.

This plant devours everything

from old cars and trucks, to
appliances and bed frames.

You can take a railcar
full of scrap out here,

throw it into our furnace,
and start the melting process,

and within eight hours,

we'll have another railcar at
the other end of the plant

with a brand new steel plate
product leaving our facility.

The advantage
of this process

is we are taking recycled
steel scrap, making it new,

and then we can do it
again, over and over,

almost indefinitely.

Before electric arc furnaces,

blast furnaces were
the leaders of the pack;

their larger,
dirtier predecessor

that have been used
for nearly 2,000 years.

Blast furnaces
don't use scrap steel.

They rely on extracted raw
materials, like iron ore

and are powered by fossil fuels
like coke - a byproduct of coal.

And once a
blast furnace is running,

it can stay burning
for up to ten years.

Though electric arc
furnaces have been around

since the early 1900s,
they weren't popular

because they were
expensive to set up

and needed
lots of electricity.

But today, mills like this one

are pushing towards
perfecting a CO2-free

steelmaking process.

Where there's a readily
available stream of scrap,

we can utilize
the electric arc furnace

and recycle that steel scrap and
melt it into new, fresh steel

for a new end application.

The electric arc
furnace devours 160 tonnes

of scrap metal, like melting
down 875 refrigerators

every hour.

What makes the scrap
steel process so effective

and sustainable is that
there's no gas and no coal.

What the arc furnace does have

is a massive electrode,

a glowing hunk of graphite
wired with electricity.

It's really bright, and I'm
looking at the electrode.

Graphite electrodes are crucial

for their high thermal
and electrical properties;

that allows them to
withstand the intense heat

without warping or
melting too fast themselves.

We're just starting
to bore in on our scrap.

To melt down just
one ton of scrap steel,

the electrode consumes roughly

360 kilowatt hours
of electricity -

enough to power
a house for 12 days.

Right now, it's arcing.

The light
flashing is the arc.

Once inside the furnace,

it's like
an electrical storm.

High voltage power blasts
through the electrode,

forming an electric arc,
a lightning-like plasma burst.

The arc becomes
the electrical bridge,

letting the current
leap from the electrode

down through the scrap pile,

literally jumping
through thin air.

The raw energy from the arc
turns that steel into liquid,

with 1,600 degrees Celsius
of unstoppable heat.

This is a 24-hour,
365-day operation.

Over time, the electrodes
will wear and melt down

with the constant
heat of the furnace.

So, crews have to be
very careful moving

these components around,
as breakage can be costly.

Hey, clean them
and don't drop that.

Give us a minute, all right?

Every day, these
skilled steelworkers

are operating and navigating
super-heated machines.

They can't afford to
let their guard down,

especially when they're tapping
into this fiery furnace.

Putting on my PPE.

We're getting ready to go out
and tap steel out of a furnace.

It's a layer
of heat protection,

so that we don't get burned.

The electric arc
furnace has two taps -

one on the side to remove slag
or molten waste material

that flows to the top
of the liquefied steel,

and the other on the bottom

is used to transfer
the final mixture of steel

to the next machine
of the process.

Hey Dan, leave
your slag door open

while we're tapping, please.

Say, leave it up, Tim.

Leave your slag door open
please.

Alrighty.

Once it gets up to
close to 3,000 degrees,

we go out, take temps,
check chemistry.

During the tapping process,

operators have the chance
to get up close and personal

with the furnace.

Those heat-resistant
suits are all that separate them

from the molten steel.

One splash and...

When it comes to steel
production,

safety is paramount.

We're going to get ready
to swing the roof off

the top of the furnace, so that
we can inspect the furnace

for water, make sure
there's no refractory damage,

and all the internals look good.

The refactoring material

are the heat-resistant
ceramic lining

that insulate the furnace
from the extreme temperature.

It's like the inner part
of a thermos

that keeps your coffee hot.

If that protective
lining breaks down,

the mechanical part gets worn,
or water gets into the furnace,

that damage
could be catastrophic.

Around the globe,
at other steel facilities,

accidents have happened.

Water and steel can be an
explosive combination.

If water gets into
a hot arc furnace,

it would rapidly
vaporize into steam,

creating
a violent expansion of gas

and a shockwave that
could send molten metal

and machine parts flying.

We've got our safety light,

so we're safe to
go up on the furnace.

Okay, I'm looking over the edge
of the furnace...

You really can't get any closer
than this.

Melts the gloves, melts the
helmet, melts the face shield.

The reason we want to make sure
there's no water inside

this furnace...

It creates a reaction

and it will blow things
all over the place.

This is a very dangerous aspect.

Probably one of the more
dangerous jobs that we do,

while we're here making steel.

It's a risky job,
but someone's got to do it,

to make sure this steel melting
machine continues to pour.

As everything looks good,

this furnace
inspection is complete

and we can exit the sump
on the top of the furnace.

Now comes the hazardous job

of hauling molten metal

from the arc furnace
across the mill floor

to the next machine
in the system.

I operate the hot metal crane,

which moves liquid steel around
in a ladle, they call them.

Now, I'm just going to set this
full ladle up on the caster,

and then they will
open it up from underneath

and let the steel flow down.

Manoeuvring this
blazing hot liquid steel

requires nerves of steel.

The pedals at my feet,
the one on the left is a brake,

which stops me from
moving north and south -

the bridge brake we call it -

and the pedal on
the right is a siren.

Every precaution must be taken

to keep the mill
and the crew safe.

The siren gets
people's attention.

Always looking out for people.

The hulking hot metal crane

delivers the ladleful
of molten metal to the top

of the colossal continuous
casting machine.

This multi-floor
machine is so huge,

it needs a control room
with multiple sets of eyes

to oversee
all its moving parts.

Steel flows from the ladle
into the top of the structure,

where it will travel through
basins, moulds, and rollers,

that will quickly
transform molten metal

into a single strip
of solid steel.

The operator over here is
pushing what they call 'mould',

puts it on the nozzle.

They just opened
the slide gate up,

and he's just letting
the operator know

that steel is passing through
the shroud, so it's open.

The crew opens the tap
at the bottom of the ladle

to release 1,600 degrees
Celsius liquid steel

into a holding tank,
also known as a 'tundish'.

Right here, we have the tundish
and a submerged entry nozzle.

As the molten metal
leaves the tundish,

it flows into
a water-cooled copper mould.

When the molten metal meets

the 40 degree Celsius
walls of the mould,

it forms a solid outer skin,

like the hardening of
a rock shell of a lava flow.

Steel rollers drag
the solidifying metal down,

while water jets hammer the
outside, cooling it further.

Nearly 23,000 litres of water
per minute cool the metal

while inside
this mammoth machine.

We've got the strand coming out
of the casting machine.

It's approximately
1,400 degrees.

These solid steel
slabs weigh 41 tonnes

and are up to
15 centimetres thick.

The slabs are
an unfinished product.

You can't build
a car with them.

You can't use them
for construction.

So, the mystery becomes,

what can you do with them?

Inside the rolling mill,

mighty metal magicians
turn these giant slabs

into workable steel.

First stop, the reheat furnace.

By the time the slabs
leave the casting machine,

they've cooled and solidified.

The reheat furnace's job is
to get them hot enough again

so they become pliable.

That way, they can be
stretched and reshaped.

Think of the reheat furnace

as a massive
industrial toaster oven,

where steel slabs
bake for two hours,

reheating them to a softened,
red-hot 1,300 degrees Celsius.

Hey, Joe, you got
a slab coming out.

So, at this point now,
we just want to make sure

that it does sit down nicely
on the discharge table,

it's not skewed,
it's not hung up on anything.

And once everything's
at a home position,

the slab will take off.

It's just a lot of things
have to go right

for the process to work.

No news is good news.

Usually, the more steel
we put through the furnace,

the better day we're having.

A side effect
of the reheat furnace

is the formation of
visible scale,

impurities that form on
the surface of the metal.

So, we had a slab just now,
discharged the furnace.

It's going to come through
what we call a 'descale'.

If the scale is not removed,

it can really lower the
quality of the steel,

and it will decrease the metal
integrity. Nobody wants that.

Descale is now blowing
2,500 PSI water pressure,

and it'll blow off the scale
that forms inside the furnace.

Next up,

the hot, softened steel is
rolled out and compressed

with four gargantuan rollers
that squeeze the metal

with bone-crushing force.

It'll square up the slab and
it'll take its first pass.

First reduction on the mill

is about an inch of
reduction on the mill.

Several passes through the mill
will make our final product.

With 25,000 horsepower -

the power of up to
12 diesel locomotives -

this metal flattening beast

squeezes the steel until
it's longer and wider

than a semi-truck trailer.

This mill is very
important to the process.

If it's down, we're not
making any money, obviously;

we're not making any product.

The Steckel mill
passes the freshly pressed steel

to the next machine...

...an industrial
Edward Scissorhands,

where a series of mechanical
shears cut the steel to size.

The piece right now currently

just come out
of the static shear.

He's going to measure
that to the correct length

to where he'll make the cut.

The work
of transforming scrap

into new steel never ends.

These heat-resistant,

battle-tested
monster machines of the mill

push out plate
after plate and keep going

to supply the world with steel.

I like seeing the finished
product go out the door.

It feels great
doing what we do.

We take all these old, used
products, turn them into

brand new steel.

Everybody out there, they're
seeing, they're using steel

every single day,
and we're all a part of that.

These industrial titans

have revolutionized
steel production,

transforming one of the
world's most demanding jobs

into infinitely safer work,

as they forge the backbone
of civilization.

From ripping out the old...

to mixing the new,

laying it down,
and smoothing it out,

paving new roads is a dirty and
dangerous non-stop process

done by some of the mightiest
machines on the planet.

This is the night shift.

Kansas City
Metropolitan Area

Highway I-35.

To conquer an interstate
highway with fresh pavement,

you need
a coordinated collection

of heavy-duty machines.

A project like this requires

continuous paving,
a method where asphalt

is laid without interruption,
using specialized machines

to maintain
a steady flow of pavement,

and it's all gotta happen before
the morning commute begins.

The goal of this is that
our paving process never stops.

If you stop paving, it can
cause a bump in the highway.

It takes
a lot of moving parts

and a heavily
coordinated effort.

If someone isn't
paying attention

or something breaks down,

it not only shuts down the
operation, it can be fatal.

Out here,
in the middle of the night,

danger is everywhere.

The asphalt industry as a whole

is an extremely
dangerous profession.

You know, the asphalt's coming
out of the trucks 300 degrees,

a lot of heavy machinery.

We have pinch points everywhere,
where people can get

ran over by a machine, injured.

Worst case scenario, you know,

something we never want to
experience is a fatality.

But when your job

is in the middle of
a speeding highway,

things can go sideways fast.

Highway work is one those jobs

that always comes with
a certain degree of risk.

Because there's so many
uncontrollable factors,

like traffic and weather,

crews are on
high alert at all times.

We're working right in
the middle of the highway.

We got traffic coming
southbound at 65 miles an hour

on the highway.

On the northbound side,

we've condensed four lanes
of highway down to one,

so the traffic is a lot slower,

a lot safer for
our people on the ground.

Even with numerous
safety strategies in place,

the dangers are still there.

It's dangerous work, so you got
to keep your head on a swivel.

You got to watch everything
and watch out for your brothers.

I've seen people get hit.
I've seen machines get hit.

We've had people
throw bottles at us,

out, as they've drove by.

Street races right by us,
going over 100 miles an hour.

We've had people come
flying up in our work zones.

And it's an
adventure every night.

Overnight
paving crews risk everything

to keep America moving,

and these machines have the
crew's back when it counts.

Long before paving can begin,

a machine with
an appetite for destruction

gets this pavement
party started.

Enter the cold planer.

Filling out
the concrete surface,

making a transition for the
paving crew to tie into.

A cold planer peels away the
damaged layers of old pavement

down to the healthy
layers underneath,

leaving behind
a perfectly prepped canvas

for fresh pavement.

Weighing in at 34 tonnes,

this beast is
ravenous for the road.

Its two-metre cutting drum spins
at 118 revolutions per minute

with diamond-shaped teeth,

ripping through pavement
like a gluttonous predator.

You can tell the machine
vibrates and shakes a lot.

That's the constant
beating of the teeth,

tearing up
the material below us.

This is very hard concrete
with granite in it.

It takes a lot
of work to pull up.

These are
carbide-tipped teeth -

a carbon mixed with metal

that creates a way tougher
compound than steel.

They can be spaced differently,

depending on what
they're ripping up,

so each tooth doesn't
take all the punishment.

The mill has a drum with about

200-plus teeth
spinning, rotating,

chipping away
at the concrete surface.

That drum is then loading it up
into a conveyor chamber,

going out into
the dump truck.

With all those teeth
tearing up the road,

this gladiator needs to
constantly rinse its mouth out

to keep crushing.

There are
multiple sprayers.

There's sprayers
over our drum,

there's sprayers in
our dust suppression system,

all along our conveyor belt -

everything
to keep dust to minimal.

Water runs dry,

the teeth start breaking,
shattering, nothing good.

Don't run without water.

They must
keep the teeth sharp

or the planer becomes
a toothless tiger.

Dull bits mean extra passes,
killing productivity,

as time and cars fly by.

Every night, when you're done,
you should check your teeth.

Now, I'm looking for
any of them that are broke.

Sometimes, you get away
with not changing teeth,

but sometimes you could change
them every hour.

There's a broken one

that's all
shaved down and broke,

and that's how
it looks brand new.

A massive 636 horsepower engine

with a 1,105 litre fuel tank

brings serious muscle

and endurance for ripping up
pavement all night long.

No other machine could
do the job quite like this.

Right now we are putting
pressure on it

so it will match
my previous cut.

We want to make it smooth

so that when they put
the asphalt down,

it's a smooth ride.

The cold planer lays
the literal groundwork

for every part of the
paving process that follows.

The planer isn't the
only thing tearing up our roads.

Mother Nature's brutal impact
on pavement is relentless,

no matter the time or season.

When snow and rain
rains on asphalt,

it will cause the moisture
inside the asphalt to freeze.

Under cold conditions,

it will expand
and de-bond the material,

and then, when it thaws out,

it will cause the
particles to fall apart.

After the planer
rips out the old surface,

the material transfer vehicle -

commonly referred to
as 'the shuttle buggy' -

emerges from the darkness

to get the
new pavement prepped.

The paving starts up there,
with them trucks

delivering the asphalt into the
shuttle buggy.

We got the asphalt
truck up here,

he's carrying
20 tonnes of asphalt.

We got three more
asphalt trucks in front of him.

The goal is to get this truck
in, he dumps in the hopper here.

Asphalt mix is dumped into

the 17-metre-long gatekeeper
of the paving battalion.

100%!

People say I'm the lynchpin
of the operation,

being up here
on the shuttle buggy.

Inside this small
but mighty shuttle buggy,

unrefined materials -

mostly stone, sand, and gravel -
become roadworthy.

The shuttle buggy takes
the mix out of the dump trucks,

puts it in the belly
of the machine,

and then it remixes the
aggregate and the oil

so everything's combined perfect

before it goes into the paver.

Pavement as hot
as 150 degrees Celsius

falls into the tank or hopper.

With an auger -
a corkscrew-like blade -

it works like
a behemoth blender,

violently shaking the mixture
down through the system.

The spinning action
evens out the temperature

and texture of the mix,

before spitting it out
onto a conveyor belt

headed for the paver.

Well, while I'm up here
with the conveyors on,

it feels like I'm always
in a mild earthquake.

DR. EL-SAYEGH: The key to
laying really good pavement

is to keep the paving process
moving in perfect sync -

no stopping, no gaps,

just one smooth operation.

Before asphalt,

American roads were dirt,
gravel, and cobblestone.

They got you where you
needed to go,

but these roads were rough
and poorly designed,

leading to the death of
up to 40,000 people every year.

Engineers had to come up with
a material

that could be durable,
hard enough

to hold up to the heavy traffic
that was to come.

America's desire for freedom

of the open road
demanded infrastructure

that could support
multiple vehicles,

carrying multiple people,
going multiple directions,

and asphalt was the answer.

We do hope to step
up the Good Road program

throughout the United States.

We can turn rivers
in their courses,

level mountains to the plains.

By the 1950s,

President Eisenhower's
grand plan called for

a nationwide
interstate highway system

of 64,000
kilometres of highway.

Over ten years, he conquered
the nation with pavement.

Today, America is crisscrossed

by nearly 80,000 kilometres
of interstate highways,

connected to another

six-and-a-half
million kilometres of roads.

On modern roads, crews are
constantly maintaining

the empire
that keeps our world moving.

The real hero of
this process is the paver.

We're ready to go,
ready to start paving.

Slow and steady wins this race

against time and traffic.

This 20-tonne road warrior

lays more than seven kilometres
of pavement every hour.

How they feed that mix

through the trucks and through
that material transfer vehicle

in front of the paver and back
underneath that screed

is absolutely critical
to get that smooth ride.

The screed is
a heated metal plate

that hangs off the
back of the paver.

Hot asphalt
flows down the hopper,

to the screed,
which smooths it out

exactly to the right thickness,
as the paver moves forward.

Now, I'm too low.

The operator
continuously adjusts the screed

to change
the depth of the pavement.

Its massive half-metre treads

spread its weight like
snowshoes on fresh powder.

They won't crush
the hot asphalt underneath,

while keeping this
metal barbarian steady

for flawless pavement.

This is like the cream
of the crop right here.

In order for you to have a
great, smooth road,

this is what you need.

But some things
still need the human touch.

Even with all the
machines that we have out here,

it still takes a person

with a tool in their hand
to make a road a road.

These are two rollers

that are considered
breakdown rollers.

They're trying
to make it smooth,

and I'm trying
to make it compacted.

And they're
doing it with a machine

that's aptly
named the compactor.

So, right now,
they're making their pass back,

and they're
vibrating the asphalt

to get the density
that we need.

It can be pretty stressful

knowing that I'm
the last guy that touches it,

just because, you know,

if there's
any imperfections in it,

that's the guy that,
you know, everyone looks to.

You've got your breakdown
who breaks it down,

and you've got your finish guy
who makes it look pretty.

This is what it
takes out here.

It's heavy machines, asphalt at
300 degrees, dump trucks.

It takes the men and women on
the ground to provide a road.

An hour to lay,
20 years to stay.

- Great job, guys.
- Thank you.

As dawn breaks over the I-35,

these steel gladiators
return to the shop.

What was once a battle-scarred,
crumbling highway

is now a flawless foundation for
decades to come.