Showing posts with label radioactive. Show all posts
Showing posts with label radioactive. Show all posts

Sunday, June 28, 2020

SOTA - Raft River Hat Trick

In pouring over SOTA Maps a couple years ago, I noticed a location where three 8-point peaks were in close proximity:



After three attempts and hours on Google Earth, I finally figured out how to get up there. This post is an attempt to make the directions more clear for others--with luck, this can be a 24-point day!

I first activated George and Bull back in 2018. Didn't make it back until ARRL's 2020 Field Day, when I activated 9335 and George the day before Field Day, and participated in Field Day from Bull Mountain (until the wind hit sustained gusts over 40 mph and thunder and lightening "appeared" in the imminent forecast).

The Route

Google Maps and most of the other online maps really don't understand how to get here. Plus, jeep trails and routes on maps in real life end up either 1) completely faded and overgrown or 2) on private land. So finding a safe, feasible, legal way to get up there was a challenge! In short, it's a series of Forest Service roads as you leave Standrod, UT:
  1. From Snowville, UT head west to Standrod
  2. From Standrod, take FS 005 south
  3. At the "T" take FS 011

FS 011 is not for the faint-hearted and absolutely requires 4WD (4L, in fact). At times, I locked my rear diff to get through steep sections with loose rock (rock, not gravel - rock). 

"9335"

As you hit the top of the mountain, you'll see 9335 in the distance. Park anywhere that's safe (there's a lot of undergrowth, so don't take risks and cause this place to burn), and head up to 9335. This is the view from 011 about 1/2 mile south of where I parked to activate 9335 in 2020.


 For 9335, you're above treeline so mostly it's sagebrush, grasses, some flowers, and a whole lotta cow pies. The hike up is just walking over, around or through sage. There is a fence line that cuts the actual summit off - I was on the "wrong" side of the fence line but well within the 250' activation zone, so I activated just west of the actual summit.

George Peak

Your next adventure will be George Peak. You'll still be in 4L for this, for sure! Continue east on 011 until it turns south. It'll connect first with 022 and then with 009.


Follow 009 to the southwest all the way until you hit George Peak. You'll come to a gate (might be closed, might be open) and signs about a private hunting club. You are allowed to pass through but you must stay on the road. 

The route is mostly road, with a lot of grass and sage. 


The views are, however, amazing -- you can see the Great Salt Lake, Promontory Point, even Antelope Island off in the distance.

If you've programmed the coordinates into your GPS, you'll find George Peak easily. On the map, the flat spot on the ridge appears to be the same altitude as the peak in the distance, so it's unclear which is the actual peak.


This either is, or is not, George Peak.


And yet this either is, or is not, George Peak. For the sake of SOTA (and since Bull is literally a drive-up), I activate the craggy peak each time.


One geological survey marker is good, but...


Two must be better :)


Panoramic view from George Peak looking from west to north to east (panning from 270 to 0 to 90 compass degrees). Not a lot of trees up here, but very green.

Bull Mountain

The final "peak" in this hat trick is Bull Mountain. I'm always torn up about this one - honestly, the road literally drives across the summit--how do you consider it activated? It's a moral dilemma but for the purists, you can park somewhere and hike a ways in.

The area around Bull Mountain is incredibly beautiful, with plenty of grassland and some wildflowers.


Not a bad place to watch the sun set!


Bull Mountain itself? Not so much special, just a grassy area where cows like to munch.

This is my SOTA setup for Field Day 2020. I lasted about 6 hours in this spot, after moving here around 10 am. By 3 PM the winds were blowing my antennas down and literally lifting half of my rooftop tent. Tuning into the Weather Service forecast, it was obvious I needed to beat a hasty retreat!

Overall, this 24-point "hat trick" is a fun trip with a couple nice peaks and a flat area that's amazing for propagation. There are other peaks nearby, so the area still has some opportunities for exploration. It's neat to have first activations on all three summits but I hope these directions help other SOTA enthusiasts get out and visit this range. Let's not make it too popular, but more people should have the chance to enjoy the incredible views up here!

- 72 de K7JTO




Friday, January 25, 2019

Winter Field Day Prep Project - Yaesu FT-897 Headset Interface

Clearly it's been too long since I last blogged--plenty of catch-up posts to publish this winter. But with Winter Field Day around the corner (as in tomorrow), I wanted to get this project wrapped up - a low-cost interface for an electronics store headset into my FT-897. Yes - I can get much better sound (TX and RX) with a Heil headset, and I'm saving up for one. I just happened to have this older headset laying around, and I typically just use it for Webex and Skype, so I figured it'd meet my needs: a quiet way to operate radio, easier on the ears, but at a fraction of the cost.

After some research, I found this article, which included a wiring diagram: http://www.n1gy.com/yaesu-headset-adaptor.html



The diagram is nicely designed, with polarity guides for the 47 uF capacitor. I could have built this for less than $15 if I'd only ordered one of each components, but I realized my "junk box" is a bit inadequate, so I ordered 10 3.5mm stereo components, a mixed box of caps, and a mixed box of resistors. All told, this build cost $30, with a bunch of parts left over.

For ease of construction, rather than using the brown wires (as in the circuit above) to splice in the RX audio, I simply paired a 3' audio extension cable to the 3' CAT5 cable I used for the TX audio and PTT circuits.

Prior to committing the build to solder, I set everything up on a breakout board:


As you can see below, my breakout board is a bit small, so I had to use jumpers from the stereo input over to an adjacent space on the board, then to the resistor and cap, etc.


 It all seemed too easy - the PTT switch simply closes a circuit (green and blue wires below), which puts the 897 into TX mode, and then the audio feeds along the blue-white and green-white cables (with the audio jack grounded to the solid blue wire that's part of the PTT circuit), but it worked when I tested it. The PTT, TX and RX audio worked great.


With the circuit designed and prototyped, I laid it all out on a simple breadboard. I spent a couple days modeling the wiring in my head, in an effort to shrink the size of the board (my original goal was to have something small enough that I could heat shrink "inline" to the cables, but the audio cable makes it a bit too large for that). You can see one challenge I overcame in the photo below: the ground from the 3.5mm stereo connector has to pass under the trace from the cap. I put a small bend in the cap's trace, and passed a jumper made from leftover CAT5 wire underneath it.










With everything wired up and tested, I drilled a few small holes for a couple zip ties, tidied everything up, and tested it out - great audio report from my local repeater.



The next step is to either trim the board to the minimal necessary size and heat shrink it, or create some sort of enclosure. For Winter Field Day, I intend to simply cover the bottom with cardboard to prevent accidental shorting, and to make a ton of contacts.

73 and good DX!


Sunday, February 18, 2018

SOTA - Thurston Peak

I’m really enjoying my SOTA (amateur radio’s “Summits on the Air”) activations. My first official activation was last week on Frary Peak, the highest point on Antelope Island. Every since moving to Davis County, I’ve had my eye on the toughest peak here, Thurston Peak. This weekend my wife hosted a wedding shower, so I had the chance to escape the house and head up.

Thurston Peak lies to the north of Francis Peak, site of an air radar installation. To get to Thurston, the easiest approach is from Francis Peak, north just a bit along the ridge line. Having gotten a look at the ridge line, however, I’m thinking that hike is no cakewalk. The ridge line is rugged, gaining and losing decent altitude at every lesser peak. In the winter, the road to Francis is closed due to snow. Many winters sees this road as a popular snowmobile destination, but this winter in Utah has been almost snowless - the snow line this weekend was right around 7500 feet or higher. I have to admit, if there were more snow I might have asked for a lift to Francis so I could tackle both peaks!

The morning started early, with a 5:45 am “BOG” trail time (boots on the ground). Knowing I’d be crossing a snow field, I had to pack a fair amount of gear - snowshoes, hiking poles, and an ice axe. Unlike most trips, I used every piece fo gear I brought.


The trail begins at the Fern Hollow trail head, which is reached by taking SR 89 to the Cherry Street intersection. From the parking lot, head east up the trail. Some people take the direct route straight up the hill, but I prefer to follow the trail east, on the south side of the hill, and then back up from the east side of the ridge. Regardless of the approach, eventually you end up on an east-west ridge due east of Antelope Drive, which is the north ridge of the "Middle Fork Hobbs Creek" canyon. I hope you enjoy the view, because you’re on this ridge for a long time!

Looking down from the ridge

As you climb, the ridges just keep coming. There are three or four of them, progressively more north of each other. The going is tough - you’ll climb roughly 4000 feet in less than 3 “horizontal” miles.

I call this the "Lunch Counter". Great view for a snack and a rest.

Eventually you'll clear the ridge and end up solid on the west face of the north south ridgeline. At this point, you've got options: continue due east to pick up elevation, or start to head south/southeast to draw closer to Francis Peak. On my trek this weekend, I made a slight route finding error, heading south around the final ridge. This put me at the base of a narrow, steep avalanche chute. The snow conditions were tough in this chute--alternating between crusted and soft, so I ended up breaking through the crust every other step. It was quite exposed, so I retreated west as I climbed up out of it. It cost a fair amount of time and a lot of energy. Lesson: don't head south until you've cleared the final peak on the Hobbs Creek Middle Fork ridge.


Wind-loaded snow conditions

As I write this blog, we're receiving 6" to 12" of snow in the valley, so the snow conditions yesterday are irrelevant. But crossing south along the face just below the ridge line was consistent: wind-loaded, crusty, cupped snow. Ideal for climbing, although at times I felt a bit over-exposed. I was climbing on MSR snowshoes with an alpine ice axe. I think I'd have been more comfortable either in crampons or roped up with a buddy.


Close up of crusted, wind-loaded, cupped face.

I routed several hundred feet below the ridge, for maybe a mile or two from the middle fork Hobbs creek to the Thurston Peak ridge proper. Thank heaven for glacier glasses, too. Once the sun broke over the ridge, it was bright and nearly directly head on.


First Glimpse of Summit

After traversing south below the main ridge, the last effort to the summit is a pretty big hump due east up the Thurston Peak ridge. I selected this route because the actual north-south ridge looked pretty rugged and I wasn't sure of the snow conditions. On the return route, I stayed closer to the ridge line because the entire traverse to the south I felt really exposed, and it just got worse climbing that last hump to the summit. The ridgeline route cut off a good 15 min on the way back.


This is what feels like to summit


This is what it takes to get there (and back). I promise - my battery died the moment I walked in the door. No extra steps counted.



Plaque explaining who Thomas Jefferson Thurston was


360-degree view


My SOTA Setup

I learned my last hike when I hit Frary Peak that, as excited as I might be to "play radio," it's important to take care of myself first. Frary is a forgiving hike, frequented by lots of hikers. Thurston? I reckon to be one of a handful who summit this peak all winter. There was no room for mistakes like failing to hydrate, eat, or put on extra clothes.


This video shows why taking care is important - the wind was blowing at a good 20 mph. The wind chill factor was enough that exposed skin was frosted in seconds.


Setting up the KX3


One guy line for the Buddistick


I buried the hiking stick in snow, and set the ice ax in front of it for stability. With the wind blowing as it was, only two guy lines were necessary.


SOTA base station - KX3, Thermarest chair with closed-cell foam.

h

Buddistick set up, leaning against the wind. The Ogden Valley is in the background. The backpack was a wind shelter.

I'm learning SOTA activations go fast. As soon as I set up, I called CQ and was picked up by my buddy WB6YOK (whose QTH is about a mile due south of Thurston. I couldn't self-spot on the SOTA app, so Chuck spotted me. After that, I had 11 solid QSOs in 20 minutes, and then activity just dropped to nothing. My activator log:

TimeCallBandModeNotes
18:05zWB6YOK14MHzSSBGroundwave
18:05zWB7ULD14MHzSSBGroundwave
18:08zW5ODS14MHzSSB58 into OK
18:10zN4EX14MHzSSB44 into NC
18:11zWD9F14MHzSSB55 into IL
18:12zWA2USA14MHzSSB55 into IN
18:17zKD0YOB14MHzSSB57 into MN
18:18zK8HU14MHzSSB59 into VA
18:18zAK5SD14MHzSSB45 into TX
18:19zWB0KIU14MHzSSB56 into IA
18:20zAB5V14MHzSSB47 into TX - Randy
18:21zK0LAF14MHzSSB33 into MO

Signals were varied, but this is my second SOTA activation and both times have had strong signals into the East, with VA being the best signal of the day. It was great chatting with Randy AB5V in Magnolia, TX who is a SOTA activator himself. I had several SOTA chasers on this activation, which is great.

With the bands settling quickly, I packed up and made my way out quickly. A couple mountaineering quips serve me well on each climb. First, as my friend and climbing partner Fredito KE7JVA says, there are old climbers, there are bold climbers, but there are no old, bold climbers. Caution is the mother of safe arrivals. Second is that the majority of mountaineering incidents happen on the way home. Climbers often forget they need as much energy to get down safely as it takes to get up to the summit. Once I was packed up, I took a moment to center myself. On the way up, I decided I wanted to return a different route, due to the excessive exposure. Had I been wearing crampons, it would have been a different story and I'd have gone back the same way. Rather, I decided to head north up the ridge, climbing down a steep rock section, skirting a nearby summit by traversing to the west through trees, then heading across the snowfield. I stayed much higher on the return route, eventually meeting up with the ridgeline prior to heading west into the Middle Fork Hobbs Creek drainage.

One mistake I made on this trip was to switch from my extra large Nalgene bottle to my CamelBak. They have the same capacity, but the CamelBak tube froze up at the summit, and I had to hike for a solid hour before I could thaw it enough to drink. By then, I felt the dehydration.

The hike home is just a repeat of the hike up - step by step, watch the ice, watch the mud. As I age, my knees get sore on the way down, so it's all about tender steps. It underscores the need to travel light.

A hike like this is roughly the equivalent of hiking from Paradise to Camp Muir, Mt. Rainer's staging site for a final summit attempt. Each time I pull off a hike of this magnitude, I say the same thing: "never again, not for several years," but sitting in my armchair writing this blog, I'm already thinking about what the next peak will be.

Tuesday, December 19, 2017

Getting (Back) Into HF Radio

In 2009, I earned my amateur radio "technician" license. This allowed me to operate two-way radio on VHF and UHF bands (as well as one HF band). That was awesome, because I was leading a small group of scouts and leaders on a 50-mile hike through Utah's Uinta mountain range, and in most places the only way to communicate was by radio (no cell coverage, and at one point we'd be 25 miles away from anything, in all directions).

After the hike, I was enthralled. I volunteered to provide communications support for a late-fall endurance race, and met my radio mentor WB6YOK, Chuck. He opened the world of HF radio to me, showing me how it works and letting me operate from his 'shack' in his home. He taught me how to operate in voice as well as digital modes. In 2010 I upgraded to a "General" class license so I could operate on HF frequencies, and I soon bought myself a 100 watt mobile rig capable of HF, VHF and UHF operation.

Fast forward one divorce and four years later. I remarried and moved into my wife's house about 30 miles south of where I had been living. Our house was in a treeless neighborhood, and she balked a bit at my simple 8' VHF antenna. There was no way to convince her to let me install an HF antenna. My interest in radio remained, but the opportunity to operate dimmed.

It is now nearly 2018. We recently relocated (ironically about 10 miles north of where I was originally). We have a home in established trees, where the right HF antenna can be easily obscured and therefore not detract from the home's aesthetics. I've decided to become "radio active" again and start operating. This blog series will be dedicated to applying the lessons I've learned both times I've gotten into HF operations. It's meant as a "don't make the same mistakes I made" guide, to help newer operators save time, money, and frustration.

For me, amateur radio is about two things: 1) it's about the project, and 2) it's about the contacts. I enjoy researching and planning a project, because I learn a lot and I like to tinker. I've been able to tackle several projects, such as:

  • installing a voice compression module into a microphone, to improve my radio's ability to transmit legibly.
  • building a CW (Morse code) radio that fits into an Altoids tin
  • Building an antenna tuner for my low-power radio
  • Building a Hendricks PFR3 CW radio (my favorite project to-date, even though it took 3 years)
  • Building several antennas, from simple wire antennas to a backcountry 2m dipole
As I said, projects increase my knowledge. I am a kinetic learner, too, so any project pretty much ensures a better understanding of the subject.

I also enjoy making contacts, very much. Whether it's voice on 40 meters or digital PSK on some other band, it is thrilling to me to talk with people around the world, without using any infrastructure. I'm independent of the Internet, phone or other communications networks (and the associated costs). My biggest issue with HF so far has been that, if you could do something a wrong way, I did it. My logbook is very thin, with only about 12 contacts logged. I didn't feel I was giving much up when I stopped pursuing HF radio, quite honestly. But now it's time to go back and redo things, and do it right, so when I power up my radio I can be relatively confident I'll have a successful conversation (or more).

Successful HF radio is a factor of several things:
  • Antenna
  • Radio
  • Output power
  • Band conditions
  • Patience
  • Luck
My biggest mistakes starting out were primarily due to using inefficient antennas, radios with insufficient receivers, and low-power radios. Band conditions are beyond our control as operators, but understanding the bands, their conditions, and related solar cycles is a big deal and helps the operator prepare, thereby increasing contacts as well.

So throughout this blog series, I'll address each of these (some multiple times).