Torspan
Torspan LLC · Washington Company
What we build. What it is made of.
We own what we build. Everything on this page carries a date.
On the shelf.
Ours. Built to sell, not for a client to own.
What we ship lands on this page, dated, once it ships.
The size of the thing underneath it.
Automated checks run against every change before it reaches a phone. One fails, the change doesn't ship.
What had to exist first.
None of this was the plan. Each one is something we had to build before the next thing would work at all.
A field application built for the truck. Portrait on a small iPad first, then everything else — because that's what's actually in the cab. Pinch-zoom is left switched on, on purpose, so a man can get into a drawing with the glove off. Most applications turn it off to keep the layout tidy.
A reader that says what it hasn't read. Drawings, cut sheets and submittals are read, and a document that hasn't been read is named, by sheet, the moment somebody asks about it — not a silence.
Our own document engine. The safety poster is set by us, not handed to a service. The icons are cut by hand, every one, and a missing icon stops the render instead of leaving a hole in a sheet a man is about to put his name on.
A record that gets revised, and says so. Numbered, dated revisions to the shape of the record — the way a revision block works on a drawing set. A record you can't tell the history of isn't a record.
A way to read a document and answer off it. The sheet, the revision and the date sit under every answer, with a line saying what it supersedes. When the sheet hasn't been read, it says which sheet and stops. That refusal was harder to build than the answer.
A way to hand all of it back. Every record out, any day, whole, in files that open without us.
That is the list of what exists. What we could build isn't on it, and it isn't going on it.
A lot of this was written by machine.
A lot of this code was written by machine. We direct it, we read it, and none of it reaches a phone until it has been through the automated checks above.
A machine wrote a lot of it, and the answer to what that means is the same one the product gives about itself. The machine does the work. It doesn't get to decide what's true.
What it may read, what it may write, and what it has to refuse are written down and enforced in code — not held in somebody's head. That's a page of its own, and it's the page to read if this is the part you care about.
What's not on this page.
No client work. We have never built software for another company, by the hour or by the job, and we don't take that work. Everything above is ours, which is why we can keep fixing it.
No logos and no names. We're not going to borrow anybody's credibility, and we're not going to write up somebody else's project as if it were a recommendation.
The sites we build for our own things aren't a body of work. We built and run every page you're reading, including this one. That's capacity. Counting it here would be the first inflated number on the page.
See it work.
If you want the rule all of it is held to, and the machinery that holds it, that's the next page.
If the question is who you'd be dealing with — the company, and a filing anybody can look up.