The really good thing about having torsion springs on the garage door is that when one breaks, not much happens:
We decided to spray money on the problem and make it go away; the Dutchess Overhead Doors tech was here the morning after I called: quicker than Amazon Prime and he works much faster than I can.
As nearly as I can tell from the checkbook (remember checkbooks?), an original (to us, anyway) spring broke shortly after we moved in. If so, that spring lasted nearly 17 years; at two open-shut cycles per day, let’s call it 12,000 cycles.
For the record, the springs are:
29 inches long
1-3/4 inch ID
7 foot tall door
He cranked in seven full turns, corresponding to the “one turn per foot of door height” rule, although the door doesn’t quite balance on its own. I’d have done one more quarter-turn to match the chalk above the door (a good example of write it where you use it), plus maybe another for good measure, but I’m reluctant to mess with success:
Perhaps the 1955 springs were 32 inches long, but the tech replaced what he found both times. It’s a brute of a door, two generous cars wide, with plywood panels in heavy wood framing, plus a few pounds of filler I applied to the rather crazed surface before painting it some years ago.
I’m mildly surprised none of the dimensions changed in the last 60 years: the springs, end caps, pulleys, and hardware directly interchanged.
Lunar eclipses happens so rarely it’s worth going outdoors into the dark:
That’s at the camera’s automatic ISO 125 setting. Forcing the camera to ISO 1000 boosts the grain and brings out the stars to show just how fast the universe rotates around the earth…
Taken with the Sony DSC-H5 and the 1.7 teleadapter atop an ordinary camera tripod, full manual mode, wide open aperture at f/3.5, infinity focus, zoomed to the optical limit, 2 second shutter delay. Worked surprisingly well, all things considered.
Mad props to the folks who worked out orbital mechanics from first principles, based on observations with state-of-the-art hardware consisting of dials and pointers and small glass, in a time when religion claimed the answers and brooked no competition.