#Machine tool coolant Unions

[aboveaveragexx]

How The Rotary Union Works: A Technical Breakdown

A rotary union is a critical piece of machinery in many industries. It allows for smooth, continuous shaft rotation while sealing and lubricating the joint. In this blog post, we'll take a closer look at how rotary unions work, the different components that make them up, and the benefits and applications of rotary unions.

What is a Rotary Union?

A rotary union is a device that transfers fluids or gasses from one point to another while rotating. The most common type of rotary union is used in hydraulics and pneumatics, but unions are also for other fluids and gasses such as water, steam, air, and coolant. Rotary unions can be either male- or female-threaded, and are available in various sizes and materials.

Rotary unions are used in various applications, from tiny medical devices to large industrial machines. In many cases, they are essential components that enable smooth operation and prevent damage to equipment. For example, a rotary union might transfer hydraulic fluid from a stationary pump to a rotating arm on a machine. Without a rotary union, the liquid would leak out at the connection point, potentially causing equipment failure or injury.

There are two main types of rotary unions: fixed and swivel. Set blocks are permanently attached to one of the two surfaces they connect, while swivel unions can rotate freely on their axis. Swivel unions are often used in applications where there is movement between the two surfaces that need to be connected, such as in robotic arms or conveyor belts.

Rotary unions come in various sizes and configurations to suit different applications. They can be single- or multi-ported, meaning they have one or more fluid or gas flow channels. Some rotary unions also have features such as built-in check valves or filters.

How Does a Rotary Union Work?

A rotary union is a device that allows for relative motion between two parts while simultaneously transferring fluid or other materials between them. Rotary unions are often used in applications where it is necessary to rotate an object, such as a wheel or shaft while supplying it with fluids or other materials.

Many types of rotary unions are designed for a specific application. In general, however, all rotary unions work in the same fundamental way. Fluid or material enters the league through an inlet port and is then transferred to the outlet port as the two parts of the union rotate relative to each other.

Rotary unions can transfer various fluids or materials, including air, water, oil, hydraulic fluid, coolant, and even electricity. They are commonly used in machine tooling, robotics, and manufacturing equipment applications.

The Components of a Rotary Union

A rotary union consists of three main components: the body, the rotor, and the seals. The body of the association is typically made from metal and houses the inlet and outlet ports. The rotor is located inside the body and is connected to one of the two moving parts relative to each other. The seals are located between the body and the rotor and prevent fluid or material from leaking out of the union as it is transferred.

The Benefits of a Rotary Union

There are many benefits to using a rotary union in an application. One of the most important benefits is that it allows for high accuracy and repeatability in the transfer of fluid or material. Rotary unions can also transfer very viscous fluids or materials and operate at high pressures and temperatures. Another benefit of rotary unions is that they are relatively low maintenance and do not require frequent replacement like other fluid-transfer devices.

The Applications of a Rotary Union

There are many different applications for rotary unions. One common application is machine tooling, which is used to transfer coolant or cutting fluid to the cutting tool. This helps to keep the cutting tool cool and prevents it from overheating. Rotary unions are also commonly used in robotics, where they transfer hydraulic fluid or lubricating oil to the robot's moving parts. This helps to keep the robot moving smoothly and prevents wear and tear on the robot's components. Rotary unions can also be used in manufacturing equipment, such as conveyor belts or assembly lines, where they are used to transfer materials between different parts of the equipment.

The Future of Rotary Unions

The future of rotary unions looks very promising. With the ever-growing popularity of robotics and other automated machines, the demand for rotary unions will only continue to increase. Rotary unions are essential for keeping these machines running smoothly and efficiently, and as technology continues to advance, the capabilities of rotary unions will continue to increase as well. In addition to their use in robotics and automation, rotary unions can also be used in various other applications, such as medical equipment, food processing machinery, and textile machinery. As the world increasingly relies on technology, the demand for rotary unions will surely rise.

[macocorporation0]

MACO Corporation is the leading deublin rotating union supplier in India, which supplies deublin rotating union coolant, water, hydraulic rotary union, pneumatic, steam rotary, multi passage and machine tool rotary union at best prices.

[supernaliniblog-blog]

Precision Gearbox Market

Precision Gearbox Market size is valued at US$ 2.3 Bn in 2017 and expected to grow at a CAGR of 7% in the forecasting period. The global precision gearbox industry share is driven by technological advancements to improve energy efficiency. Speed reducers with higher torque, maintenance-free construction, smooth running, compact design, high load capacity and lower costs are some of the characteristics of these products which manufacturers are providing as their unique selling propositions. Emerging applications such as robotics will create demand for highly precise movements fulfilled by these products. Rising automation requirements in the manufacturing sector will drive the precision gearbox market size for use in assembly lines, controlling conveyor belts, bottling, packaging, and precise positioning of products. The presence of substitutes such as direct drive systems may hamper the global market share. These products eliminate the use of gears, thus reducing the weight and complexity, and increasing the efficiency as there is no energy loss. The shift from using coil-driven to permanent magnet driven products has reduced the overall costs of the direct drive systems. Simulation of direct drives through software leads to more accurate power conversion as investments are saved in simulation processes.

The Precision Gearbox market is segmented based on product, application and geography. By product segment, the market is segmented into parallel, right angle and planetary. By applications, the market is segmented as military & aerospace, food beverage & tobacco, machine tools, material handling, packaging, robotics and medical. Robotic precision gearbox dominates the market with over 50% share and will exhibit rapid growth over the forecast timeframe. This can be credited to increased demand in prosthetic limbs and joints for balancing and achieving precise movements in service and industrial robotics applications. Geographically, the Precision Gearbox market has been segmented into North America, Europe, Asia Pacific, Middle East & Africa and Latin America. North America is expected to be the largest market for Precision Gearbox during the forecast period. Rising manufacturing base with increased focus towards minimum operational costs & increased accuracy will support the demand over the forecast timeframe. Several countries have adopted their national regulations with international recommendations (IEC 60034-1), resulting in temperature classes, coolant temperatures, and temperature rise limits of the gearboxes under permissible values in any region. Key player across the Precision Gearbox industry are Brevini, SEW Eurodrive, and Siemens. The industry is highly fragmented as local manufacturers capture considerable share in many regions by providing cost advantages to customers against established companies. Growing requirements for tailored versions of standard gear offerings will increase precision gearbox market size over the forecast timeframe. 3D modelling has enabled producers to design and manufacture small quantities of custom products at low costs. Energy-efficiency classifications for electric motors have led to improved cost savings and reduced consumption. The new directives in European Union referred to as EU Minimum Energy Performance Standard (MEPS) effective from January 2015 will improve energy efficiency of electric motors by 20-30%.

Precision Gearbox Market Scope

Precision Gearbox Market, By Product• Parallel • Right Angle • PlanetaryPrecision Gearbox Market, By Application• Military & Aerospace • Food Beverage & Tobacco • Machine Tools • Material Handling • Packaging • Robotics • MedicalPrecision Gearbox Market, By Geography• North America • Europe • Asia-Pacific • Middle East & Africa • Latin AmericaKey Players operating in the Precision Gearbox Market:• Brevini • SEW Eurodrive • Siemens • BONFIGLIOLI RIDUTTORI • Dana Brevini Power – Transmission • Güdel • SEW-EURODRIVE

Maximize Market Research, a global market research firm with dedicated team of specialists and data has carried out extensive research about the current Precision Gearbox market outlook. Report encompasses the Precision Gearbox market by different segments and region, providing the in-depth analysis of overall industry ecosystem, useful for taking informed strategic decision by the key stakeholders in the industry. Importantly, the report delivers forecasts and share of the market, further giving an insight into the market dynamics, and future opportunities that might exist in the Precision Gearbox market. The driving forces as well as considerable restraints have been explained in depth. In addition to this, competitive landscape describing about the strategic growth of the competitors have been taken into consideration for enhancing market know-how of our clients and at the same time explain Precision Gearbox market positioning of competitors.

[jesusvasser]

Coast to Coast in a $475 1977 Mercedes-Benz 230

Somewhere along the way, I forgot what its like to love a car. To be not enthralled with power or precision, but enamored, charmed, ready to forgive an ocean of faults for a few drops of good character. This car, a $475 1977 Mercedes-Benz 230, is the perfect reminder.

Mercedes built a staggering 2.7 million W123 sedans between 1977 and 1985. They are cars of automotive legend, machines that helped craft American understanding of German engineering. These sedans, coupes, and wagons that embody the truth behind the worn and weary clichés: tank-like, mechanical, indestructible.

This is not a vehicle I’d seek out. It’s slow and pondering. German. It does not sprint or dart. It trundles along with a stodginess I’d long associated with professors who thought too highly of themselves. For a knuckle-dragger who grew up pining for the cars that filled his father’s old Hot Rod pages, it is a thing from another universe, far from the Impalas and Mercury coupes that formed the early flickers of my automotive lust. Even now, some part of me will always see a Mercedes or BMW badge and think, that’s a nice car. A denizen of a higher social stratum.

I bought it out of desperation, a thing for a story after Plan A dropped its transmission 45 miles into a 1,000-mile adventure. The seller told me the car needed valve seals and guides. I asked him if it would make it from its home in Eugene, Oregon to Portland. He nodded. I took him at his word and drove it nearly 5,000 miles over three weeks.

You can’t look at it without smiling. It’s everything. The size. The simple, handsome lines, dabbed here and there with just enough chrome to remind you it was penned in another era. How even after 40 years, every mechanism on it yields a beautiful, mechanical click–the doors, the hood, the headlight and hazard switches. How everything works. There’s no jiggling of knobs or smacking of steering wheels. No holding your tongue just right while you twist the key. It simply functions.

That’s partly due to the thing’s construction, but also its specification. There is no sunroof, no automatic climate control, no cruise control, no power windows or door locks. All of the niceties that degrade and fail over the course of a generation are absent. It is happy to do its job from now until the heat death of the universe, so long as you keep dumping oil down its throat.

What it doesn’t burn, it leaks. Two cupped hands could hold oil better than the front main seal and oil pan gasket. It spent its life wandering from Idaho to Washington, and finally, down to Oregon, all states that are kind to old metal. There is some rust, though. This will never be a concourse car.

But that means you can simply drive it. Throw the keys to friends and have everyone pile in. Street park it. Never lock it. Leave the windows down while you run your errands because what could happen? And every time you return to find it unmolested, it rebuilds your faith in humanity, bit by bit.

My wife, Beth, flew out from Virginia to meet me in Seattle for a long weekend. We picked up another couple, piled our luggage in the cavernous trunk, and headed for the ferry across the sound.

My friend tells me these are the sucker months, the days that convince Californians to move north, when the long, gray winter and the endless blackberry brambles seem like an impossibility. I get it. There’s a wide part of my heart that wants to be here, and it gets to singing as we watch the water slide beneath us. He points to the distance and says, “Look, there’s Rainier.”

At first, I can’t see it. My Appalachian mind aims my eyes too low, where there’s nothing but a thin haze and clouds hugging close to the horizon. The broad peak is above it all, and when I raise my gaze, I see that old volcano like a backdrop in oils, a scene that has wandered into our reality from some far-off fantasy.

The air is cool and clear, made cold by the quick wind at the ferry’s prow. It could be April anywhere else in the world. Porpoises breach and dance through the dark, still water to our starboard, and it’s difficult to believe that this is someone’s normal. Some lucky bastard’s home. We leave the windows down as we wander south, laughing and talking as we drive. It’s a delicious feeling, one I haven’t had since high school when my car lunched its A/C compressor, and I was too broke to fix it.

It’s the sense of being in the world rather than sheltered from it. It’s the salt smell of the sound and the way the air changes cool to warm and back again as you wander. How the car has not been bred out of the experience. You hear the little four-cylinder. Feel it thrumming ahead of you, pulling you on to the next wonder. It is open and pleasant. The door sills are thin and low and wait for your elbow. There’s room, everywhere.

I catch myself looking for glimpses of the car in storefront windows and the polished sides of food-grade semi tankers. It makes my heart glad to see it, every time.

The thing is a gamble, of course. It had 272,000 miles when I picked it up in Eugene. I kept waiting for it to falter and give me an excuse to leave it there in the Pacific Northwest, to thank it for its time and say goodbye. I eyed the temperature and oil pressure gauges, waiting to catch it in the act of leaving us stranded, but it never did. The Mercedes just kept moving, happy to be of use.

After 1,500 miles, half of me feared that it was only good because neither of us had managed to disappoint each other, yet. The Mercedes hadn’t destroyed some unobtainable part and stranded us for a week. I hadn’t mangled a repair, hit a curb, or blown a tire.

Worse, how does a car like this fit in my life? It was the safest thing on four wheels in 1977, but I’d be an idiot to put my daughter in it for anything longer than a bop to the store. We have no garage for it to sleep in, no space or time or cash for the car’s pile of minor needs. And while the lack of air conditioning was fine in the perpetually temperate Northwest, hot and humid Virginia might have something else to say.

Maybe that’s the price you pay to be reminded that cars are good and amazing things. That they’re the excuse you need to pack up and go. To leap. To take good people along with you. To watch their eyes grow bright as they take that big wheel and amble through the neighborhoods they’ve known all their lives, now with a new taste on their lips, their hands fluttering in the breeze like wings.

I dropped Beth off at the airport, then spent a morning in a West Seattle gutter changing one questionable coolant hose out of cowardice. I grabbed a set of pawn shop tools and pointed the 230 east with nothing to keep me company but Caroline Rose and John K. Sampson on the two-speaker stereo. I have crossed this continent more times than I can count, and still it is a shock to know the breadth of it. To understand the awesome miracle of this country, how such fractured and disparate places and people hold together, knowing we’re better for it.

You fill your windshield for three days, four, and still don’t run out of land to see. Places to go. I fall out of pace with the world, with its churning news and grinding fears. It’s a crime how microscopic we let our lives become, every sin and flaw magnified to unmanageable proportions, our days a galley of ghosts.

I find myself facing the nightmares my grandfather knew. Nukes and Nazis. Russia. The goddamned KKK. The world’s bigger than that, though, and out here, gulping down wide swaths of it, you understand the goodness inherent in people. I can’t pop the hood to check the oil without someone wandering up and wanting to know if everything’s ok. It’s a heartening sameness. You see it and realize we’re all living out our days with one wary eye on tomorrow, content to know that if nothing else, our horizons don’t change.

Mine do, for now. The land shifts, and the air with it. First, sweetened by Washington’s fir trees, then Idaho’s pine, darkened later with smoke from Montana forest fires, the blazes ignited by dueling thunderstorms. They roam over the grassland, stumbling to either side of Highway 200, lightning stabbing at the ground in fours and fives. They are massive and beautiful and full of destruction. Hot Shot firefighters eye their progress like the herds of mule deer that gather along the shoulder, tense and ready to bolt at some hidden cue.

Then comes North Dakota and the knowledge that there isn’t an ugly state in this union. Miles and miles of sweet corn, the smell strong enough to make my mouth water in the mid-day heat, followed by Minnesota, its waters, and the first smattering of deciduous trees. A single bald eagle cruises the shoreline out my passenger window. There’s a shift that happens, and something in me knows I’m closer to home than Seattle. Maybe it’s the humidity. Perfect cumulus clouds sit like dollops of cream, thousands of them stretching off to the horizon in a way that only happens in the Midwest. There are more people, too, and after a thousand miles of empty country, it’s a shock to see so many cars.

After Minnesota is Wisconsin, its roadsides blushing with wildflowers. Yellow black-eyed susans and blue chicory, amok and gorgeous in every ditch and field. Somewhere, in the back of my mind, I begin to suspect that yes, we’ll make it the 3,000 miles to my home in Virginia. I try to banish it, to think of anything else for fear of giving fate one more thin excuse to put its boot to my neck, but it won’t go away. It stays there through the endless toll booths of Illinois, across Indiana and Ohio. And by the time the sun sets on the last day, I can see my green hills. Smell the thick Appalachian air of home, a breath away through the mountains of West Virginia.

The 230 never falters. Never stumbles. It wants highway speeds, happier at 85 than 55 and content to scream its little head off even as it pukes oil out its valve cover. I keep the speed at 70, not for engine life, but for oil consumption, and by the time I take my exit, there isn’t a doubt in my mind that I could turn around and drive straight back if I needed to. This is a thing that cannot be deterred.

It feels at home here, soaking up the uneven chip-and-seal of my county. Rolling into my driveway. Parking in front of my house. After so many hours, I should loathe the thing. After so little sleep, I should want to bar the door, pull my wife into bed and not leave until famine or fire threatens to oust us.

But Virginia is happy to have me home, and the morning is a wonder. Sunlight drips through the mist that clings to the river below our ridge, the mountainsides drenched in the orange light of morning. Yes, this is my normal. Yes, this is some lucky bastard’s home. Mine. Somehow, I have not yet run the wandering out of my blood. I grab the keys and roll down the windows. The odometer’s a few shakes shy of 277,000 miles, and my father’s got nothing to do for the day. Maybe he needs the reminding of a good car.

The post Coast to Coast in a $475 1977 Mercedes-Benz 230 appeared first on Automobile Magazine.

from Performance Junk WP Feed 4 http://ift.tt/2x6AHCN via IFTTT

[jonathanbelloblog]

Coast to Coast in a $475 1977 Mercedes-Benz 230

Somewhere along the way, I forgot what its like to love a car. To be not enthralled with power or precision, but enamored, charmed, ready to forgive an ocean of faults for a few drops of good character. This car, a $475 1977 Mercedes-Benz 230, is the perfect reminder.

Mercedes built a staggering 2.7 million W123 sedans between 1977 and 1985. They are cars of automotive legend, machines that helped craft American understanding of German engineering. These sedans, coupes, and wagons that embody the truth behind the worn and weary clichés: tank-like, mechanical, indestructible.

This is not a vehicle I’d seek out. It’s slow and pondering. German. It does not sprint or dart. It trundles along with a stodginess I’d long associated with professors who thought too highly of themselves. For a knuckle-dragger who grew up pining for the cars that filled his father’s old Hot Rod pages, it is a thing from another universe, far from the Impalas and Mercury coupes that formed the early flickers of my automotive lust. Even now, some part of me will always see a Mercedes or BMW badge and think, that’s a nice car. A denizen of a higher social stratum.

I bought it out of desperation, a thing for a story after Plan A dropped its transmission 45 miles into a 1,000-mile adventure. The seller told me the car needed valve seals and guides. I asked him if it would make it from its home in Eugene, Oregon to Portland. He nodded. I took him at his word and drove it nearly 5,000 miles over three weeks.

You can’t look at it without smiling. It’s everything. The size. The simple, handsome lines, dabbed here and there with just enough chrome to remind you it was penned in another era. How even after 40 years, every mechanism on it yields a beautiful, mechanical click–the doors, the hood, the headlight and hazard switches. How everything works. There’s no jiggling of knobs or smacking of steering wheels. No holding your tongue just right while you twist the key. It simply functions.

That’s partly due to the thing’s construction, but also its specification. There is no sunroof, no automatic climate control, no cruise control, no power windows or door locks. All of the niceties that degrade and fail over the course of a generation are absent. It is happy to do its job from now until the heat death of the universe, so long as you keep dumping oil down its throat.

What it doesn’t burn, it leaks. Two cupped hands could hold oil better than the front main seal and oil pan gasket. It spent its life wandering from Idaho to Washington, and finally, down to Oregon, all states that are kind to old metal. There is some rust, though. This will never be a concourse car.

But that means you can simply drive it. Throw the keys to friends and have everyone pile in. Street park it. Never lock it. Leave the windows down while you run your errands because what could happen? And every time you return to find it unmolested, it rebuilds your faith in humanity, bit by bit.

My wife, Beth, flew out from Virginia to meet me in Seattle for a long weekend. We picked up another couple, piled our luggage in the cavernous trunk, and headed for the ferry across the sound.

My friend tells me these are the sucker months, the days that convince Californians to move north, when the long, gray winter and the endless blackberry brambles seem like an impossibility. I get it. There’s a wide part of my heart that wants to be here, and it gets to singing as we watch the water slide beneath us. He points to the distance and says, “Look, there’s Rainier.”

At first, I can’t see it. My Appalachian mind aims my eyes too low, where there’s nothing but a thin haze and clouds hugging close to the horizon. The broad peak is above it all, and when I raise my gaze, I see that old volcano like a backdrop in oils, a scene that has wandered into our reality from some far-off fantasy.

The air is cool and clear, made cold by the quick wind at the ferry’s prow. It could be April anywhere else in the world. Porpoises breach and dance through the dark, still water to our starboard, and it’s difficult to believe that this is someone’s normal. Some lucky bastard’s home. We leave the windows down as we wander south, laughing and talking as we drive. It’s a delicious feeling, one I haven’t had since high school when my car lunched its A/C compressor, and I was too broke to fix it.

It’s the sense of being in the world rather than sheltered from it. It’s the salt smell of the sound and the way the air changes cool to warm and back again as you wander. How the car has not been bred out of the experience. You hear the little four-cylinder. Feel it thrumming ahead of you, pulling you on to the next wonder. It is open and pleasant. The door sills are thin and low and wait for your elbow. There’s room, everywhere.

I catch myself looking for glimpses of the car in storefront windows and the polished sides of food-grade semi tankers. It makes my heart glad to see it, every time.

The thing is a gamble, of course. It had 272,000 miles when I picked it up in Eugene. I kept waiting for it to falter and give me an excuse to leave it there in the Pacific Northwest, to thank it for its time and say goodbye. I eyed the temperature and oil pressure gauges, waiting to catch it in the act of leaving us stranded, but it never did. The Mercedes just kept moving, happy to be of use.

After 1,500 miles, half of me feared that it was only good because neither of us had managed to disappoint each other, yet. The Mercedes hadn’t destroyed some unobtainable part and stranded us for a week. I hadn’t mangled a repair, hit a curb, or blown a tire.

Worse, how does a car like this fit in my life? It was the safest thing on four wheels in 1977, but I’d be an idiot to put my daughter in it for anything longer than a bop to the store. We have no garage for it to sleep in, no space or time or cash for the car’s pile of minor needs. And while the lack of air conditioning was fine in the perpetually temperate Northwest, hot and humid Virginia might have something else to say.

Maybe that’s the price you pay to be reminded that cars are good and amazing things. That they’re the excuse you need to pack up and go. To leap. To take good people along with you. To watch their eyes grow bright as they take that big wheel and amble through the neighborhoods they’ve known all their lives, now with a new taste on their lips, their hands fluttering in the breeze like wings.

I dropped Beth off at the airport, then spent a morning in a West Seattle gutter changing one questionable coolant hose out of cowardice. I grabbed a set of pawn shop tools and pointed the 230 east with nothing to keep me company but Caroline Rose and John K. Sampson on the two-speaker stereo. I have crossed this continent more times than I can count, and still it is a shock to know the breadth of it. To understand the awesome miracle of this country, how such fractured and disparate places and people hold together, knowing we’re better for it.

You fill your windshield for three days, four, and still don’t run out of land to see. Places to go. I fall out of pace with the world, with its churning news and grinding fears. It’s a crime how microscopic we let our lives become, every sin and flaw magnified to unmanageable proportions, our days a galley of ghosts.

I find myself facing the nightmares my grandfather knew. Nukes and Nazis. Russia. The goddamned KKK. The world’s bigger than that, though, and out here, gulping down wide swaths of it, you understand the goodness inherent in people. I can’t pop the hood to check the oil without someone wandering up and wanting to know if everything’s ok. It’s a heartening sameness. You see it and realize we’re all living out our days with one wary eye on tomorrow, content to know that if nothing else, our horizons don’t change.

Mine do, for now. The land shifts, and the air with it. First, sweetened by Washington’s fir trees, then Idaho’s pine, darkened later with smoke from Montana forest fires, the blazes ignited by dueling thunderstorms. They roam over the grassland, stumbling to either side of Highway 200, lightning stabbing at the ground in fours and fives. They are massive and beautiful and full of destruction. Hot Shot firefighters eye their progress like the herds of mule deer that gather along the shoulder, tense and ready to bolt at some hidden cue.

Then comes North Dakota and the knowledge that there isn’t an ugly state in this union. Miles and miles of sweet corn, the smell strong enough to make my mouth water in the mid-day heat, followed by Minnesota, its waters, and the first smattering of deciduous trees. A single bald eagle cruises the shoreline out my passenger window. There’s a shift that happens, and something in me knows I’m closer to home than Seattle. Maybe it’s the humidity. Perfect cumulus clouds sit like dollops of cream, thousands of them stretching off to the horizon in a way that only happens in the Midwest. There are more people, too, and after a thousand miles of empty country, it’s a shock to see so many cars.

After Minnesota is Wisconsin, its roadsides blushing with wildflowers. Yellow black-eyed susans and blue chicory, amok and gorgeous in every ditch and field. Somewhere, in the back of my mind, I begin to suspect that yes, we’ll make it the 3,000 miles to my home in Virginia. I try to banish it, to think of anything else for fear of giving fate one more thin excuse to put its boot to my neck, but it won’t go away. It stays there through the endless toll booths of Illinois, across Indiana and Ohio. And by the time the sun sets on the last day, I can see my green hills. Smell the thick Appalachian air of home, a breath away through the mountains of West Virginia.

The 230 never falters. Never stumbles. It wants highway speeds, happier at 85 than 55 and content to scream its little head off even as it pukes oil out its valve cover. I keep the speed at 70, not for engine life, but for oil consumption, and by the time I take my exit, there isn’t a doubt in my mind that I could turn around and drive straight back if I needed to. This is a thing that cannot be deterred.

It feels at home here, soaking up the uneven chip-and-seal of my county. Rolling into my driveway. Parking in front of my house. After so many hours, I should loathe the thing. After so little sleep, I should want to bar the door, pull my wife into bed and not leave until famine or fire threatens to oust us.

But Virginia is happy to have me home, and the morning is a wonder. Sunlight drips through the mist that clings to the river below our ridge, the mountainsides drenched in the orange light of morning. Yes, this is my normal. Yes, this is some lucky bastard’s home. Mine. Somehow, I have not yet run the wandering out of my blood. I grab the keys and roll down the windows. The odometer’s a few shakes shy of 277,000 miles, and my father’s got nothing to do for the day. Maybe he needs the reminding of a good car.

The post Coast to Coast in a $475 1977 Mercedes-Benz 230 appeared first on Automobile Magazine.

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[eddiejpoplar]

Coast to Coast in a $475 1977 Mercedes-Benz 230

Somewhere along the way, I forgot what its like to love a car. To be not enthralled with power or precision, but enamored, charmed, ready to forgive an ocean of faults for a few drops of good character. This car, a $475 1977 Mercedes-Benz 230, is the perfect reminder.

Mercedes built a staggering 2.7 million W123 sedans between 1977 and 1985. They are cars of automotive legend, machines that helped craft American understanding of German engineering. These sedans, coupes, and wagons that embody the truth behind the worn and weary clichés: tank-like, mechanical, indestructible.

This is not a vehicle I’d seek out. It’s slow and pondering. German. It does not sprint or dart. It trundles along with a stodginess I’d long associated with professors who thought too highly of themselves. For a knuckle-dragger who grew up pining for the cars that filled his father’s old Hot Rod pages, it is a thing from another universe, far from the Impalas and Mercury coupes that formed the early flickers of my automotive lust. Even now, some part of me will always see a Mercedes or BMW badge and think, that’s a nice car. A denizen of a higher social stratum.

I bought it out of desperation, a thing for a story after Plan A dropped its transmission 45 miles into a 1,000-mile adventure. The seller told me the car needed valve seals and guides. I asked him if it would make it from its home in Eugene, Oregon to Portland. He nodded. I took him at his word and drove it nearly 5,000 miles over three weeks.

You can’t look at it without smiling. It’s everything. The size. The simple, handsome lines, dabbed here and there with just enough chrome to remind you it was penned in another era. How even after 40 years, every mechanism on it yields a beautiful, mechanical click–the doors, the hood, the headlight and hazard switches. How everything works. There’s no jiggling of knobs or smacking of steering wheels. No holding your tongue just right while you twist the key. It simply functions.

That’s partly due to the thing’s construction, but also its specification. There is no sunroof, no automatic climate control, no cruise control, no power windows or door locks. All of the niceties that degrade and fail over the course of a generation are absent. It is happy to do its job from now until the heat death of the universe, so long as you keep dumping oil down its throat.

What it doesn’t burn, it leaks. Two cupped hands could hold oil better than the front main seal and oil pan gasket. It spent its life wandering from Idaho to Washington, and finally, down to Oregon, all states that are kind to old metal. There is some rust, though. This will never be a concourse car.

But that means you can simply drive it. Throw the keys to friends and have everyone pile in. Street park it. Never lock it. Leave the windows down while you run your errands because what could happen? And every time you return to find it unmolested, it rebuilds your faith in humanity, bit by bit.

My wife, Beth, flew out from Virginia to meet me in Seattle for a long weekend. We picked up another couple, piled our luggage in the cavernous trunk, and headed for the ferry across the sound.

My friend tells me these are the sucker months, the days that convince Californians to move north, when the long, gray winter and the endless blackberry brambles seem like an impossibility. I get it. There’s a wide part of my heart that wants to be here, and it gets to singing as we watch the water slide beneath us. He points to the distance and says, “Look, there’s Rainier.”

At first, I can’t see it. My Appalachian mind aims my eyes too low, where there’s nothing but a thin haze and clouds hugging close to the horizon. The broad peak is above it all, and when I raise my gaze, I see that old volcano like a backdrop in oils, a scene that has wandered into our reality from some far-off fantasy.

The air is cool and clear, made cold by the quick wind at the ferry’s prow. It could be April anywhere else in the world. Porpoises breach and dance through the dark, still water to our starboard, and it’s difficult to believe that this is someone’s normal. Some lucky bastard’s home. We leave the windows down as we wander south, laughing and talking as we drive. It’s a delicious feeling, one I haven’t had since high school when my car lunched its A/C compressor, and I was too broke to fix it.

It’s the sense of being in the world rather than sheltered from it. It’s the salt smell of the sound and the way the air changes cool to warm and back again as you wander. How the car has not been bred out of the experience. You hear the little four-cylinder. Feel it thrumming ahead of you, pulling you on to the next wonder. It is open and pleasant. The door sills are thin and low and wait for your elbow. There’s room, everywhere.

I catch myself looking for glimpses of the car in storefront windows and the polished sides of food-grade semi tankers. It makes my heart glad to see it, every time.

The thing is a gamble, of course. It had 272,000 miles when I picked it up in Eugene. I kept waiting for it to falter and give me an excuse to leave it there in the Pacific Northwest, to thank it for its time and say goodbye. I eyed the temperature and oil pressure gauges, waiting to catch it in the act of leaving us stranded, but it never did. The Mercedes just kept moving, happy to be of use.

After 1,500 miles, half of me feared that it was only good because neither of us had managed to disappoint each other, yet. The Mercedes hadn’t destroyed some unobtainable part and stranded us for a week. I hadn’t mangled a repair, hit a curb, or blown a tire.

Worse, how does a car like this fit in my life? It was the safest thing on four wheels in 1977, but I’d be an idiot to put my daughter in it for anything longer than a bop to the store. We have no garage for it to sleep in, no space or time or cash for the car’s pile of minor needs. And while the lack of air conditioning was fine in the perpetually temperate Northwest, hot and humid Virginia might have something else to say.

Maybe that’s the price you pay to be reminded that cars are good and amazing things. That they’re the excuse you need to pack up and go. To leap. To take good people along with you. To watch their eyes grow bright as they take that big wheel and amble through the neighborhoods they’ve known all their lives, now with a new taste on their lips, their hands fluttering in the breeze like wings.

I dropped Beth off at the airport, then spent a morning in a West Seattle gutter changing one questionable coolant hose out of cowardice. I grabbed a set of pawn shop tools and pointed the 230 east with nothing to keep me company but Caroline Rose and John K. Sampson on the two-speaker stereo. I have crossed this continent more times than I can count, and still it is a shock to know the breadth of it. To understand the awesome miracle of this country, how such fractured and disparate places and people hold together, knowing we’re better for it.

You fill your windshield for three days, four, and still don’t run out of land to see. Places to go. I fall out of pace with the world, with its churning news and grinding fears. It’s a crime how microscopic we let our lives become, every sin and flaw magnified to unmanageable proportions, our days a galley of ghosts.

I find myself facing the nightmares my grandfather knew. Nukes and Nazis. Russia. The goddamned KKK. The world’s bigger than that, though, and out here, gulping down wide swaths of it, you understand the goodness inherent in people. I can’t pop the hood to check the oil without someone wandering up and wanting to know if everything’s ok. It’s a heartening sameness. You see it and realize we’re all living out our days with one wary eye on tomorrow, content to know that if nothing else, our horizons don’t change.

Mine do, for now. The land shifts, and the air with it. First, sweetened by Washington’s fir trees, then Idaho’s pine, darkened later with smoke from Montana forest fires, the blazes ignited by dueling thunderstorms. They roam over the grassland, stumbling to either side of Highway 200, lightning stabbing at the ground in fours and fives. They are massive and beautiful and full of destruction. Hot Shot firefighters eye their progress like the herds of mule deer that gather along the shoulder, tense and ready to bolt at some hidden cue.

Then comes North Dakota and the knowledge that there isn’t an ugly state in this union. Miles and miles of sweet corn, the smell strong enough to make my mouth water in the mid-day heat, followed by Minnesota, its waters, and the first smattering of deciduous trees. A single bald eagle cruises the shoreline out my passenger window. There’s a shift that happens, and something in me knows I’m closer to home than Seattle. Maybe it’s the humidity. Perfect cumulus clouds sit like dollops of cream, thousands of them stretching off to the horizon in a way that only happens in the Midwest. There are more people, too, and after a thousand miles of empty country, it’s a shock to see so many cars.

After Minnesota is Wisconsin, its roadsides blushing with wildflowers. Yellow black-eyed susans and blue chicory, amok and gorgeous in every ditch and field. Somewhere, in the back of my mind, I begin to suspect that yes, we’ll make it the 3,000 miles to my home in Virginia. I try to banish it, to think of anything else for fear of giving fate one more thin excuse to put its boot to my neck, but it won’t go away. It stays there through the endless toll booths of Illinois, across Indiana and Ohio. And by the time the sun sets on the last day, I can see my green hills. Smell the thick Appalachian air of home, a breath away through the mountains of West Virginia.

The 230 never falters. Never stumbles. It wants highway speeds, happier at 85 than 55 and content to scream its little head off even as it pukes oil out its valve cover. I keep the speed at 70, not for engine life, but for oil consumption, and by the time I take my exit, there isn’t a doubt in my mind that I could turn around and drive straight back if I needed to. This is a thing that cannot be deterred.

It feels at home here, soaking up the uneven chip-and-seal of my county. Rolling into my driveway. Parking in front of my house. After so many hours, I should loathe the thing. After so little sleep, I should want to bar the door, pull my wife into bed and not leave until famine or fire threatens to oust us.

But Virginia is happy to have me home, and the morning is a wonder. Sunlight drips through the mist that clings to the river below our ridge, the mountainsides drenched in the orange light of morning. Yes, this is my normal. Yes, this is some lucky bastard’s home. Mine. Somehow, I have not yet run the wandering out of my blood. I grab the keys and roll down the windows. The odometer’s a few shakes shy of 277,000 miles, and my father’s got nothing to do for the day. Maybe he needs the reminding of a good car.

The post Coast to Coast in a $475 1977 Mercedes-Benz 230 appeared first on Automobile Magazine.

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[engineercity]

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New Post has been published on http://engineer.city/next-gen-connections/

Next-gen connections

Thomas Maier reveals how all media connections can be made with one flick of the wrist via a new modular kit system

Whether in plant construction or for maintenance and repair work, intelligent connectors are useful tools for the secure, efficient and space-saving connection of single components or entire assemblies by means of one easy-to-use connection.

Installation expense and set-up times can be considerably reduced. One expert in this sector has continued its product development to create a completely flexible modular system.

Flexibility is the key: in modern production there is a clear trend toward modular systems and customised production.

Multiple connectors make it possible to implement very transparent and standardised interfaces between system components or modules. This allows thorough testing of assemblies prior to delivery and commissioning.

On-site commissioning is then also simplified, through the well-known plug & play principle.

Maintenance is facilitated and setup times are reduced, since entire modules can easily be exchanged or switched. Development activities can also be delimited.

Defined and standardised interfaces therefore allow subcontracting of entire work bundles to external suppliers and facilitate development at distributed locations.

The multiple connectors from the Eisele Multiline offer high-quality, sustainable and robust connection technology for these tasks.

It’s not only time and money; space is also a crucial factor for efficient production. Media circuits are becoming ever more complex and confusing. This makes retrofitting and troubleshooting all the more difficult.

Well-organised media supply lines in a production facility are therefore important, especially from a business point of view.

To connect every hose and every line as a single element is not only a nuisance, but also costs money. The more often connections have to be disconnected and reconnected, the greater is the savings potential with the use of multiple connectors.

Large modular kit minimises warehousing 

An innovative step into the future of connection solutions is the strictly modular design concept of the Eisele Multiline Adaptive, which allows the flexible configuration of individual multiple connectors.

A system of adaptive inserts allows the combination of exactly the connections required for a particular application. 

Different connections such as electronics, pneumatics and fluids can be integrated in a single interface. It can be used to switch a pneumatic connection to a coolant connection without the use of tools, or to change the pin assignment of electrical connections.

The size of the connections – and therefore the respective hose diameter – is variable, since they are integrated in the standard- sized exchangeable inserts. They always fit into the hole pattern of the base body.

By integrating the required hole pattern in the machine housing, the modular concept can also be used as an individual and secure connection solution for machines and systems.

The customer can configure their required interface using the inserts and the configuration can be modified later for re-use. If an insert should unexpectedly break down, it can easily be replaced to restore the function of the connector.

Thanks to the modular system, warehousing is minimised. The multiple connectors are manufactured from aluminium and stainless steel. The connection Inserts are available in brass, dezincification-resistant brass for coolant circuits or stainless steel and can be used together in one connector. An additional option is available in the form of inserts for electric wires, which can likewise be combined with fluid connections.

The stainless steel versions, for example, are ideal for harsh, cleaning-intensive and hygiene-critical production environments, such as those in food processing — for example dairies — or in the pharmaceutical industry. 

Multiple media connectors and connectors for use with fluids open up many flexible areas of application. The new stainless steel Multiline Adaptive enables entirely different configurations for decentralised systems. 

The supply of media to grippers, robots and automation modules in general benefits from the compact and robust yet lightweight and flexible media supply.

The smooth surface of no-rust stainless steel 1.4404 prevents adhesion and breeding of micro-organisms. Its corrosion resistance also means that it can withstand the frequent cleaning cycles of the food and pharmaceutical industries. It is resistant to water, steam, humidity and acids. All products in the line feature a space-saving design, high-quality workmanship and user-friendly installation. 

Reliable sealing in any solution

The two-sided shut-off version is designed so that it can be connected even under pressure, with very little physical effort. For use with liquid media, inserts are available with shut-off valves and also in a drip-free version. 

To guarantee a secure threaded connection of the multiple connectors, a leak-free connection is established even before the connecting union nut is tightened. The nut has a unique end position that eliminates leaks due to incorrect installation. 

Thomas Maier is MD of Eisele Pneumatics. 

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Source: engineerlive.com

[rotaryunion]

Understanding Rotary Unions: The Backbone of Fluid Management Systems

Rotary unions, also known as rotary joints or swivels, are indispensable components in various industrial applications where the transfer of fluid or gases between stationary and rotating equipment is necessary. From simple cooling systems to complex machinery, rotary unions play a vital role in ensuring seamless operation and efficiency. In this blog, we'll delve into the intricacies of rotary unions, exploring their functionality, applications, and importance in different industries.

What is a Rotary Union? A rotary union is a mechanical device that allows the transfer of fluids or gases between a stationary supply and a rotating component, without leakage or loss of pressure. It consists of precision-engineered components such as seals, bearings, and housing, designed to withstand the rigors of continuous rotation while maintaining a reliable connection for fluid transfer.

Applications of Rotary Unions:

Machine Tool Coolant Unions: In machining operations, maintaining proper coolant flow is crucial for lubrication, cooling, and chip removal. Rotary unions enable the transfer of coolant from a stationary supply to rotating machine tools, ensuring efficient operation and prolonging tool life.

Steam Joints: Industries such as paper manufacturing, textile processing, and food processing rely on steam for various processes. Rotary steam joints facilitate the transfer of steam from stationary pipelines to rotating cylinders or drums, powering equipment like dryers, calenders, and presses.

Hydraulic and Pneumatic Rotary Unions: Hydraulic and pneumatic systems are prevalent in industries ranging from automotive manufacturing to aerospace. Rotary unions facilitate the transmission of hydraulic fluids or compressed air to rotating components, enabling precise control and smooth operation of machinery.

Hot Oil Rotary Unions: Processes involving high-temperature fluids, such as oil heating systems and plastic extrusion, require specialized rotary unions capable of handling extreme heat without compromising performance or safety.

Food Rotary Joints: In food processing equipment such as rotary cookers, ovens, and packaging machinery, rotary joints ensure the hygienic transfer of ingredients, steam, or other fluids without contamination, meeting strict industry standards for food safety.

Importance of Rotary Unions:

Efficient Fluid Transfer: Rotary unions enable the seamless transfer of fluids or gases between stationary and rotating equipment, ensuring consistent performance and productivity.

Extended Equipment Lifespan: Proper lubrication and cooling facilitated by rotary unions help prevent premature wear and damage to rotating components, prolonging the lifespan of machinery.

Versatility: With a wide range of configurations and materials available, rotary unions can be tailored to suit diverse applications and operating conditions.

Reliability: Quality rotary unions are engineered for durability and reliability, minimizing downtime and maintenance costs in industrial settings.

Rotary unions are the unsung heroes of fluid management systems, enabling the smooth operation of machinery across various industries. From machine tools to food processing equipment, these precision-engineered components play a crucial role in ensuring efficient fluid transfer between stationary and rotating parts. As technology advances and industrial processes evolve, rotary unions will continue to adapt and innovate, remaining indispensable components in the realm of fluid power transmission.

Contact Us at: https://www.rotaryunion.co.in/ | +919820045787 | info@omegaseals.com

[rotaryunion]

Unlocking the Power of Rotary Unions: A Comprehensive Guide

We dedicated to exploring the versatile world of rotary unions! As a premier manufacturer of rotary unions, we pride ourselves on delivering high-quality solutions for a wide range of industrial applications. In this guide, we'll delve into the intricacies of rotary unions, highlighting their functionality, applications, and why they are essential components in various industries.

Understanding Rotary Unions: At the heart of many industrial processes lies the rotary union, a mechanical device designed to transfer fluid from a stationary supply to a rotating component. Also known as rotary joints or swivels, these ingenious devices play a crucial role in enabling seamless fluid transfer in machinery where rotation is involved.

Applications of Rotary Unions: Our rotary unions find applications across numerous industries, including manufacturing, automotive, aerospace, food and beverage, pharmaceuticals, and more. Whether it's transferring steam, coolant, water, hydraulic fluid, air, or hot oil, rotary unions ensure efficient and reliable fluid transfer, thereby optimizing the performance of various machinery and processes.

Key Features and Benefits: Our rotary unions boast a host of features designed to meet the diverse needs of our customers. From high-speed coolant unions for precision machining applications to robust hydraulic rotary unions for heavy-duty industrial machinery, our products are engineered to deliver exceptional performance, reliability, and longevity. With advanced sealing technologies and durable construction, our rotary unions offer leak-free operation, even in the most demanding environments.

Exploring Specialized Solutions: In addition to standard rotary unions, we also specialize in providing customized solutions to meet unique requirements. Whether you need a rotary union for food-grade applications, corrosive environments, or high-temperature operations, our engineering team can design a solution tailored to your specific needs. Our food rotary joints, for instance, are meticulously crafted to meet stringent hygiene standards while ensuring efficient fluid transfer in food processing equipment.

rotary unions are indispensable components in modern machinery, facilitating seamless fluid transfer in rotating systems. As a leading manufacturer of rotary unions, we are committed to delivering innovative solutions that optimize the performance and reliability of our customers' equipment. Whether you're in the automotive industry, aerospace sector, or food processing business, you can rely on our rotary unions to meet your fluid transfer needs with precision and efficiency. Contact us today to learn more about our comprehensive range of rotary unions and how they can benefit your operations.

Contact Us at: https://www.rotaryunion.co.in| +919820045787 | info@omegaseals.com

[rotaryunion]

Rotary Unions

Rotary Unions, also called rotary joints, rotating Unions are uses to carry fluids through rotation shafts. Rotary unions carry air, water, hot oil through rotating spindles.Hydraulic unions are available in the from of single port Rotary Unions and multiple port Rotary Unions.

[rotaryunion]

Revolutionizing Industrial Fluid Dynamics: Exploring High-Speed Coolant Unions Manufacturers by Rotary Union Company

Introduction: Welcome to the cutting-edge world of industrial fluid dynamics, where precision meets innovation. In this blog post, we delve into the realm of High-Speed Coolant Unions, exploring the groundbreaking solutions provided by Rotary Union Company. As technology continues to advance, the demand for efficiency, speed, and reliability in manufacturing processes has never been higher. Join us on this journey as we uncover the key features, benefits, and applications of high-speed coolant unions.

Section 1: Understanding High-Speed Coolant Unions High-speed coolant unions play a pivotal role in ensuring optimal performance in rotary applications. These unions are designed to handle the challenges posed by high-speed rotation while efficiently managing the flow of coolant, providing a seamless solution for various industrial processes. Let's explore the engineering behind these remarkable components.

Section 2: Key Features and Innovations Rotary Union Company takes pride in pushing the boundaries of technological innovation. Highlight the key features that set your high-speed coolant unions apart from the competition. Discuss advancements in materials, sealing technologies, and design principles that contribute to enhanced performance, durability, and longevity.

Section 3: Benefits for Industrial Applications Detail the practical advantages that manufacturers can experience by incorporating high-speed coolant unions into their processes. Discuss how these unions contribute to increased productivity, reduced downtime, and improved overall efficiency. Whether it's in metalworking, automotive manufacturing, or other precision industries, highlight how your products address specific challenges faced by your customers.

Section 4: Real-world Applications Share real-world examples and success stories of how Rotary Union Company has collaborated with clients to implement high-speed coolant unions. Explore diverse applications, showcasing the adaptability and versatility of these unions across different industries. Include testimonials from satisfied customers to add a personal touch and credibility to your product.

Section 5: Future Trends and Innovations As technology continues to evolve, discuss the future trends and potential innovations in high-speed coolant unions. Provide insights into ongoing research and development efforts within your company to stay at the forefront of the industry. Engage your readers by inviting them to envision the possibilities that lie ahead.

Conclusion: In conclusion, high-speed coolant unions by Rotary Union Company represent a game-changing solution for industries that demand precision and efficiency. The marriage of cutting-edge technology and innovative design positions these unions as essential components in the landscape of industrial fluid dynamics. Stay tuned for more updates on our journey to redefine what's possible in rotary applications. Contact Us At: https://www.rotaryunion.co.in/ | info@omegaseals.com | 9820045787