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I was surprised to find that Berlin peasant renter life doesn't typically include any luxuries such as an electric clothes dryer, as fundamental to US citizenship as cable TV.  What one does instead is to take up half a room with a tin pot drying rack which folds down only to leap up again and mock me as I unfurl it later the same day.  I live with four people of varied ages and the laundry is legitimately a mini-job for tax purposes.


Winter makes this whole deal all the more challenging since wet clothes left in the cold immediately grow mildew; heating a room is expensive; the windows are drafty... and waah did I mention that winter is long and cold, to be endured best behind a protective shield of fidgety little indoor projects.
[[File:Final use.jpg|thumb|''by Adam Wight, 2024'']]
I was surprised to find that Berlin working-class life doesn't typically include luxuries such as an electric clothes dryer. The washers, dryers and laundromats I have known were always beloved, but only more so in their absence.


Mechanical engineering is not my thing, which is unfortunate because I enjoy making stuff that should ideally hold together mechanically.  I make garden tools that bend, shelves that fall out of the wall, bicycle trailers that tip their load in the dark and rain.  I once tried to find a night class on the subjectSurprisingly, this is not how it works—it seems that nobody wants to hear that their city's bridge was designed by someone who picked it up on odd nights and from a couple of nice video explainers.  I still blame elitism.
The mischief one gets up to without a dryer strains the imaginationStrings, fans, hidden rooms; carting sodden rags; dry cleaning…


Because of these known weaknesses and other factors, it's taken me a few years to work up the courage to attempt this elevator.  The problem seemed harder than it is, at first: so many different angles and lengths to consider...  the idea stagnated and my drawings never progressed.  The turning point was when I realized that pulleys can simply change the direction of force, and this direction can be constrained to never change.  In other words, a set of 8 directional pulleys can turn the lifting force of four ropes going to each corner of a frame by 90 degrees, and then by another 90 degrees so that pulling down lifts the frame up.  This is just a fancy version of a single pulley in the ceiling turning the force by 180 degrees.  The other very happy discovery was that the displacement of each rope is unaffected by the angle the rope is pointing, in other words pulling the four ropes together will cause each corner to be lifted by the same amount, regardless of how the ropes are routed around the ceiling.
What follows is a story of one such adaptation.


Pricing pulleys, I saw that they would add up to at least 100 bucks for the crappiest possible wheels, so I decided to buy a wood lathe for 200 bucks and learn how to turn my own pulleys.  First world problems, you could say that again.  But my pulleys came out alright!
<div style="clear: both;"></div>


A year or two passes. But one crappy afternoon I stumbled across this gem—a huge oak bed perhaps tossed out of someone's window after a particularly nasty breakup!  Having spent a bit of time on the streets, I recognized this for the incredibly attractive nuisance it is and I rushed home to get some tools. Indeed, by the time I returned I'd found that scavengers had apparently chewed on a dozen of the sticks and had torn them out to... I really can't imagine, maybe for firewood?  ski poles for a baby? So I unscrewed whatever was left, tossed it in my innocuous stroller and walked back home playing it off as if I were not carrying a heap of fool's gold.
== Pulleys: how does that work? ==
[[File:Logs.jpg|left|thumb|200x200px|Logs which will become pulleys]]
[[File:Marked log.jpg|thumb|200x200px|Log on a spinning lathe, turned round and with widths penciled on]]
[[File:Lathe learning.jpg|left|thumb|200x200px|The lips are too fragile for this beginner]]
[[File:Stack of pulleys.jpg|thumb|301x301px|Eventual progress]]
Like any sincerely amateur hobbyist, I started with the funnest part: pulleys.  Through window shopping I saw that pulleys would add up to at least a hundred bucks, so I decided to buy a wood lathe for 200 instead, and learn how to turn the pulley rollers.<ref>If you're reading for lathe tips, I enjoyed Frank Pain's book "Practical Woodturner". If you haven't looked into woodturning, its demonstration videos are a genre rich with great content and eccentric narrators.</ref> I lack a shop at the moment so I "rent" storage under a basement table and awkwardly carry the machine upstairs in its deteriorating styrofoam box.  First world problems, you could say. But after making the first few into firewood, my pulleys eventually came out okay!


The wood was perfectDon't forget to sand everything smooth before putting it all together.  I forgot and it got awkward to work on, assembled at 2.5m x 1m.  In my case, some aluminum angle and pop rivets served admirably and keep the overall weight down.
Mechanical engineering is not my thing, which is unfortunate because I enjoy making stuff that is used and should not fall apartIn my trail of destruction lie bendable garden tools, fallen shelves, and bicycle trailers tipping their loads in the rain and at night.  I once tried to find myself an evening continuing ed. class on engineering, but to my surprise this isn't how it works—nobody wants their city's bridge designed by a punter who picked up their math on odd nights out and a couple of video explainers.


Mounting the pulleys had me stumped for a while, see this outrageous scrap plywood monstrosity.  It's cute that the pulley has become invisible, but there is nothing else cute about what's happening here.
But still, I blame elitism.


Bending some metal strapping is fine and lets me bolt directly into the ceiling with whatever will be most appropriate.
For this reason and other factors, it's taken me a few years to build up the courage to try a clothes elevator.  The problem seemed unattainably mathy at first, full of various angles and lengths...  the idea stagnated and each time I sketched it, it came out obviously wrong and incomplete.


By another stroke of luck, I found that the bathroom ceiling had a few metal studs which can be trusted to give hints before catastrophic failure, unlike bolting into ancient concrete and plaster as I've found everywhere else in the apartment.  And even luckier, a strange little access door provided extra metal to anchor too, and happens to be directly above a reasonable spot to mount the action bitsIf you don't have a little door like this, it worked so well that I would recommend making one—and you might also attract a family of Borrowers.
The turning point came once it was clear that a fixed pulley simply changes the direction of force, and this direction can be either constrained and dynamic, or constantI like constant.


This rack turns out to hold 3x or so loads of laundry, and especially when it's suspended above your head it feels important to mention that the clothes will be heavier than you might expect.  A 5:1 block and tackle system was easy to make using two pairs of double pulleys, which I purchased like a normal person from the 21st century since I wanted them to be really smooth and unlikely to explode.
In other words, the rope's travel is equal but opposite as seen from either side of a pulley.  If the pulleys stay put it gets even simpler, and all that's happening in my case is that downwards pulling force on a rope is rotated by 90° at the ceiling, and then another 90° so that it's acting upwards on the load.  This is just the fancy equivalent of a 180° turn over a single pulley [img]!
 
<div style="clear: both;"></div>
 
== A second-best bed ==
[[File:Raw bed.jpg|left|thumb|200x200px|Sideways bed on the street is suddenly looking good]]
[[File:Bed remnants.jpg|thumb|400x400px|After a few days, bones are picked clean to bleach in the rain]]
Another year or two passes.  But one afternoon I stumbled across a huge oak bed on the street.  Having spent my youth observing city trash floes, I recognized this for the incredibly attractive nuisance it is and I rushed home to get the tools to dismantle it.  Indeed, by the time I returned, scavengers or vandals had already chewed or stomped a dozen of the sticks out and... I'm really curious to know what the missing, jagged stumps could have been used for?  Anyway, it's cold and dark out by this time, and I'm doing something of ambiguous legality and ethicality in a public place, let's not sweat the small things.  I unscrewed the sticks that remained, tossed them into an innocuous getaway stroller and walked back home, hunched over my prize.
 
The slats were perfect: hardwood at roughly 2.5cm x 1cm x 1.0m.  Beveling the business edges and sanding to 180 grit or so leaves the wood smooth enough for cloth to slide over, but rough enough to not slip.  (I forgot to sand the slats before assembly and it became unwieldy afterwards. Hopefully dear reader you will remember if the time comes.)
== Tie it together ==
Aluminum angle serve admirably for the runners, and aluminum<ref>Weird side note: different types of metal touching one another do a molecular-electrical [[w:Galvanic_corrosion|Galvanic corrosion]] thing over time.</ref> pop rivets holding slats to the runners keep the overall weight down.[weigh it]
 
[[File:Plywood pulley w slash.jpg|thumb|150x150px|Don’t ask.  Rope is definitely not running off the wheel in this encarcelation!]]
Mounting the pulleys however had me at a loss for bad ideas.  Here's one example, a monstrosity of scrap plywood.  It's cute that the pulley is invisible, but there's nothing else good happening here.
 
<div style="clear: both;"></div>
[[File:All pulleys.jpg|thumb|203x203px|Generic brackets made of whatever]]
[[File:Thread lock.jpg|left|thumb|200x200px|Please apply thread lock if you choose to use bolts]]
Bending whatever metal strapping around the pulleys is fine and leaves me free to use any type of bolt appropriate for the mysterious ceiling.  The axle should have been simple, let's not discuss how overcomplicated I made this out of a misplaced urge to use up old junk.  Just a safety note that if you too choose to hang anything unusual above your head, please make sure that it can't loosen with time.
 
<div style="clear: both;"></div>
[[File:Bracket closeup.jpg|thumb|268x268px|Rope’s eye view.  Fits  any type of anchor bolt.]]
[[File:Hatch open.jpg|left|thumb|150x150px|Lucky access hatch ]]
[[File:Hatch.jpg|left|thumb|150x150px|The hatch door sporting a few new screwholes]]
By a stroke of luck, I found that the bathroom ceiling included a few metal studs, which I trust to give hints before catastrophic failure, unlike the ancient concrete and plaster powder everywhere else in the apartment.  And even luckier, a strange little access door provides a clutch of extra metal to anchor to, all in the spot directly above a door jamb where I planned to anchor to anyway.  If you don't have a little door like this, it will provide insight, it's low risk—and you might lure a family of Borrowers.
 
<div style="clear: both;"></div>
== Sombras, nada mas ==
[[File:Halogen spotlight.jpg|left|thumb|150x150px|Halogen spotlight, ca. 1990]]
[[File:Led flood.jpg|thumb|164x164px|LED floodlight moving in like a hermit crab]]
The ceiling lights became a subproject: old halogen bulbs burn out too quickly to keep lit, and their spotlight focus never illuminated much to begin with. Random LED flood bulbs can be found having the same socket, but the overall radius was much widerLuckily, the design lent itself to a bent bit of telegraph wire: it was possible to make clips that hold the new bulbs in place after throwing out a few of the landlord's light parts.  These flood bulbs also seem to cast better light by reflecting off of the walls to get around the humungous new obstruction, whereas spots would have been blocked by the rack and clothes.
 
<div style="clear: both;"></div>
 
== Results ==
[[File:Rack at top.jpg|thumb]]
[[File:Rope routing.jpg|left|thumb]]
This one is 1x3m and fits three or so loads of laundry.  Which is great, except that when full it can add up to much more weight than is comfortable to lift.
 
A block and tackle system was straightforward to make from two pairs of double pulleys, which I boringly purchased at the big box like it is the waning tail of the Industrial Age, and provides something between a 3:1 and 5:1 advantage.<ref>The jury is still out on this.  Eyeballing it suggests a 5:1 ratio, but there's still much I don't understand.  When I put a luggage scale on the ropes, it reads a 30kg pull before the multiple pulleys, and a 10kg pull for the operator, which is unignorably close to an exact 3:1 ratio.</ref>  This part of the junk needs to run smoothly and be unlikely to explode, so I have no regrets about my retreat.
 
Finally, my reward is that local children will enthusiastically run the winches while singing "Scrub, Scrub".<ref>Link withheld to protect the innocent.</ref>
 
<div style="clear: both;"></div>
'''Notes'''
<references />
__NOTOC__

Latest revision as of 20:56, 13 April 2024

by Adam Wight, 2024

I was surprised to find that Berlin working-class life doesn't typically include luxuries such as an electric clothes dryer. The washers, dryers and laundromats I have known were always beloved, but only more so in their absence.

The mischief one gets up to without a dryer strains the imagination. Strings, fans, hidden rooms; carting sodden rags; dry cleaning…

What follows is a story of one such adaptation.

Pulleys: how does that work?[edit | edit source]

Logs which will become pulleys
Log on a spinning lathe, turned round and with widths penciled on
The lips are too fragile for this beginner
Eventual progress

Like any sincerely amateur hobbyist, I started with the funnest part: pulleys. Through window shopping I saw that pulleys would add up to at least a hundred bucks, so I decided to buy a wood lathe for 200 instead, and learn how to turn the pulley rollers.[1] I lack a shop at the moment so I "rent" storage under a basement table and awkwardly carry the machine upstairs in its deteriorating styrofoam box. First world problems, you could say. But after making the first few into firewood, my pulleys eventually came out okay!

Mechanical engineering is not my thing, which is unfortunate because I enjoy making stuff that is used and should not fall apart. In my trail of destruction lie bendable garden tools, fallen shelves, and bicycle trailers tipping their loads in the rain and at night. I once tried to find myself an evening continuing ed. class on engineering, but to my surprise this isn't how it works—nobody wants their city's bridge designed by a punter who picked up their math on odd nights out and a couple of video explainers.

But still, I blame elitism.

For this reason and other factors, it's taken me a few years to build up the courage to try a clothes elevator. The problem seemed unattainably mathy at first, full of various angles and lengths... the idea stagnated and each time I sketched it, it came out obviously wrong and incomplete.

The turning point came once it was clear that a fixed pulley simply changes the direction of force, and this direction can be either constrained and dynamic, or constant. I like constant.

In other words, the rope's travel is equal but opposite as seen from either side of a pulley. If the pulleys stay put it gets even simpler, and all that's happening in my case is that downwards pulling force on a rope is rotated by 90° at the ceiling, and then another 90° so that it's acting upwards on the load. This is just the fancy equivalent of a 180° turn over a single pulley [img]!

A second-best bed[edit | edit source]

Sideways bed on the street is suddenly looking good
After a few days, bones are picked clean to bleach in the rain

Another year or two passes. But one afternoon I stumbled across a huge oak bed on the street. Having spent my youth observing city trash floes, I recognized this for the incredibly attractive nuisance it is and I rushed home to get the tools to dismantle it. Indeed, by the time I returned, scavengers or vandals had already chewed or stomped a dozen of the sticks out and... I'm really curious to know what the missing, jagged stumps could have been used for? Anyway, it's cold and dark out by this time, and I'm doing something of ambiguous legality and ethicality in a public place, let's not sweat the small things. I unscrewed the sticks that remained, tossed them into an innocuous getaway stroller and walked back home, hunched over my prize.

The slats were perfect: hardwood at roughly 2.5cm x 1cm x 1.0m. Beveling the business edges and sanding to 180 grit or so leaves the wood smooth enough for cloth to slide over, but rough enough to not slip. (I forgot to sand the slats before assembly and it became unwieldy afterwards. Hopefully dear reader you will remember if the time comes.)

Tie it together[edit | edit source]

Aluminum angle serve admirably for the runners, and aluminum[2] pop rivets holding slats to the runners keep the overall weight down.[weigh it]

Don’t ask. Rope is definitely not running off the wheel in this encarcelation!

Mounting the pulleys however had me at a loss for bad ideas. Here's one example, a monstrosity of scrap plywood. It's cute that the pulley is invisible, but there's nothing else good happening here.

Generic brackets made of whatever
Please apply thread lock if you choose to use bolts

Bending whatever metal strapping around the pulleys is fine and leaves me free to use any type of bolt appropriate for the mysterious ceiling. The axle should have been simple, let's not discuss how overcomplicated I made this out of a misplaced urge to use up old junk. Just a safety note that if you too choose to hang anything unusual above your head, please make sure that it can't loosen with time.

Rope’s eye view. Fits any type of anchor bolt.
Lucky access hatch
The hatch door sporting a few new screwholes

By a stroke of luck, I found that the bathroom ceiling included a few metal studs, which I trust to give hints before catastrophic failure, unlike the ancient concrete and plaster powder everywhere else in the apartment. And even luckier, a strange little access door provides a clutch of extra metal to anchor to, all in the spot directly above a door jamb where I planned to anchor to anyway. If you don't have a little door like this, it will provide insight, it's low risk—and you might lure a family of Borrowers.

Sombras, nada mas[edit | edit source]

Halogen spotlight, ca. 1990
LED floodlight moving in like a hermit crab

The ceiling lights became a subproject: old halogen bulbs burn out too quickly to keep lit, and their spotlight focus never illuminated much to begin with. Random LED flood bulbs can be found having the same socket, but the overall radius was much wider. Luckily, the design lent itself to a bent bit of telegraph wire: it was possible to make clips that hold the new bulbs in place after throwing out a few of the landlord's light parts. These flood bulbs also seem to cast better light by reflecting off of the walls to get around the humungous new obstruction, whereas spots would have been blocked by the rack and clothes.

Results[edit | edit source]

This one is 1x3m and fits three or so loads of laundry. Which is great, except that when full it can add up to much more weight than is comfortable to lift.

A block and tackle system was straightforward to make from two pairs of double pulleys, which I boringly purchased at the big box like it is the waning tail of the Industrial Age, and provides something between a 3:1 and 5:1 advantage.[3] This part of the junk needs to run smoothly and be unlikely to explode, so I have no regrets about my retreat.

Finally, my reward is that local children will enthusiastically run the winches while singing "Scrub, Scrub".[4]

Notes

  1. If you're reading for lathe tips, I enjoyed Frank Pain's book "Practical Woodturner". If you haven't looked into woodturning, its demonstration videos are a genre rich with great content and eccentric narrators.
  2. Weird side note: different types of metal touching one another do a molecular-electrical Galvanic corrosion thing over time.
  3. The jury is still out on this. Eyeballing it suggests a 5:1 ratio, but there's still much I don't understand. When I put a luggage scale on the ropes, it reads a 30kg pull before the multiple pulleys, and a 10kg pull for the operator, which is unignorably close to an exact 3:1 ratio.
  4. Link withheld to protect the innocent.