Sunday, October 23, 2011
W9H Special Event Oct. 25-31, 2011
Fox Valley Ham Halloweenfest was created to foster these connections. Beginning Oct. 25th, the weeklong event will bring us together to work the W9H Special Event station. We're celebrating the autumn season, when cooler weather and long nights allow more time in the shack, and pint-sized ghouls and goblins will soon be knocking on our doors in search of sweet treats. The goal of this event is to encourage more on-air activity, to bring together local hams in an informal operating environment, and of course, to make as many contacts as possible in the U.S. and throughout the world. With the sun cycle more alive than I've ever seen it in my short ham history, we expect a lot of activity.
In addition, Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday evening will focus on giving newer hams an opportunity to operate the station alongside some veterans of the hobby. We're hosting an open house from 6 to 10 pm with the intention of helping new hams get on the air in a friendly, relaxed environment.
W9H will be on the air as follows:
Oct. 25-27, 5 am to 10 pm
Oct. 28, 5 am to 6pm
Oct. 28-Oct. 30 - W9H will work the CQ Worldwide Contest
Oct. 31, 5am to 6pm
We will operate SSB and CW on 10 through 80 meters. Watch for our spots or check the Fox Valley Ham Halloweenfest website for frequent updates on where we are. For more information, use the contact form at the website to email me.
73 de KC9LQS
Sunday, January 23, 2011
A YL's Perspective on What Makes A Good Ham
I came to radio a little later in life than many hams. My elmer, Jeff N9JZN, introduced me to the hobby when we met. I don’t recall the exact moment when I knew I was hooked on amateur radio, but I do recall a spring evening when I showed up at his house for what I thought was supposed to be a romantic dinner. In fact, it turned out to be a contesting weekend, and Jeff was working the contest. It has occurred to me, in the years since that night, that some women might have been offended by being offered radio sport in place of romance. For me, Jeff opened the door to a whole new world, one in which I’ve come to feel quite at home.
Passing that very first exam, I felt the new privileges I’d been granted required an appropriate response. The only way to honor it, I believed, was to become the best ham I possibly could. But what does that mean, to be a good ham? I learned – and continue to learn – a lot about that from Jeff, and I joined FRRL so I could learn from them, too.
Know what they taught me?
They taught me that being a good ham doesn’t require having encyclopedic knowledge of electronics and radio theory, or putting out the most power permitted by law, having the highest towers or getting the rarest DX…as important as those things are.
They taught me that being a good ham means using the knowledge and skills you have and, at every given moment, using them to the best of your ability. It means always striving to learn more and do more, exploring new technology and acquiring new skills, finding your niche and then sharing your passion for it with others.
Being a good ham means honoring the people and traditions that came before us and made radio what it is today, and then paying it forward by embracing new hams, the way FRRL did with me, and by mentoring our young operators, and eventually turning over our mikes and our straight keys to those who will inherit the hobby as we have shaped it.
They taught me that being a good ham is about service, to the community and to each other, for our own benefit and for the common good, keeping amateur radio alive and making it as accessible as possible to those who want to join our ranks.
And it’s about community, working side by side to make good things happen, building memories, bonding over our shared interest and forming friendships that often extend beyond the hobby and sometimes last a lifetime.
I’ve become much more involved in the club, partly from a desire to give back, and largely because the group has, over time, helped me realize that I don’t have to know it all in order to make a contribution. Being a good ham is a journey that begins the moment you earn your first ticket and continues until you become a silent key. At every point in the journey, we all have something of value to offer.
I’m grateful to my friends and teachers in the club, for the learning they make possible, the opportunities to serve, and the friendships I’ve come to cherish. And I want to encourage readers of YL on the Air to consider the question: What makes a good ham? And more importantly, what are you doing to become a better one?
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
Anything Is Possible: Repairing a Linear Power Supply

Learning by doing, for some of us, is more powerful than book learning alone. Much of the theory I learned in preparation for the FCC licensing exams made sense, but I admit that some of it was beyond my experience at the time. This past year, I’ve been on a quest to change that. Reading schematic drawings was one of the challenges I am meeting head-on these days. Even beginners without a background in electronics can learn to navigate through the symbols and successfully build or repair equipment. Following are some tips on tackling your first project, illustrated with photos from the recent repair of my Pyramid Phase III power supply. My thanks to friend and neighbor K9WDB, who generously gave me the unit from the estate of Ed WB9EDE, now a silent key.
Step One: Learn the language. Schematic drawings use symbols to represent the components in a circuit. The symbols are labeled with the values of each component. For example, my power supply used five capacitors rated at 4700uf, 25v. Like any language, knowing the meanings of these electrical symbols will allow you to “translate” automatically, without stopping to look them up. Keep a chart of commonly used symbols handy, such as the one printed in the ARRL Handbook, for easy reference as needed.
Step Two: Study the drawing. Schematics show how one component connects to the next, whether it’s a simple circuit or a complex piece of equipment. The drawing shows the flow of power through the circuit. If you recall from your Technician class studies, capacitors store power, resistors limit its flow, transistors magnify it and diodes control it. Find the starting point by identifying where power enters the circuit. Where does the power go from there? And from there? Trace the flow through the drawing and identify what action is occurring as the power moves through each component.
Step Three: Study the circuit itself. Starting with the point where power enters the piece of equipment, trace the route from source through each component. Here’s a tip that made a world of difference for me: Schematics are electrical drawings, not mechanical. The physical components will connect as per the schematic, but their physical position will not correspond to the drawing.
Step Four: Diagnose the problem. Trouble-shooting requires an entirely different skill set, one through which I relied upon my Elmer Jeff N9JZN to guide me. If you are in the early stages of your electrical education as I am, I suggest partnering with a more experienced ham for this step. Diagnosing the problem means identifying the point(s) at which the flow of power is interrupted and determining why. In the case of the power supply, Jeff suggested that we first determine that the two most expensive components, the transformer and the regulator, were working properly. Further research suggested that in this particular piece of equipment, components most likely to fail are the transistors and the filter capacitors. Testing confirmed that one of the transistors had failed.
Step Five: Make the repairs. As long as we had the unit open, I took Jeff’s advice to replace the transistors and filter caps with higher rated components. Using “beefier” parts increased the load that the power supply can handle. Originally rated at 20 amps, after repairs the unit could actually accommodate a 30-amp draw. This provides additional protection against overload from the equipment that is being powered.
Pay attention to the way components are connected before removing the old parts. Capacitors, for example, have negative and positive leads. Installing the new component backwards will cause the circuit to fail. I marked the positive and negative connections on the board before removing the old caps. The stripe down the side of the capacitor indicates the negative lead.
Tight quarters made it difficult to access some connection points. Removing the heat sink gave me better access to the transistors.
Insulators on the transistor leads limit flow of current to precisely the right point. We had to get creative in finding a way to replace a few brittle insulators. Electrical tape worked well. If we had skipped this step, the entire heat sink would have become conductive.
Step Six: Put it back together. Since the caps we used are larger than the ones they replaced, we had to make sure they fit properly for the height of the stand-offs that hold them in place. Fortunately, we had just enough clearance.
Step Seven: Test your results. Before repairs, the power supply was putting out about 4 volts. After repairs, that increased to slightly above the 13.8-volt output the unit is intended to provide. Mission accomplished!
Moral of the story? No matter where you are in your knowledge of the hobby, nothing is beyond your ability. Tackle new skills one step at a time, building on previous learning with each undertaking. When you ask the right questions, anything is possible.
Thursday, October 7, 2010
Where the Elmers Are
An interesting question was posed at a recent meeting of Fox River Radio League, the radio club to which I belong: Do you consider yourself an Elmer or an Elmeree?
For the benefit of new hams who may not be familiar with the term, an Elmer is an amateur radio operator who takes on the role of mentor for someone who is learning the ropes. Some of us were fortunate enough to have a formal Elmer who guided us through the initial learning curve when we entered the world of amateur radio. Others worked alone to master the theory, technology, application and, in some cases, the dits and dahs of Morse code when it was still a licensing requirement.
Elmering is a natural extension of the tradition of service within the hobby. We use our knowledge both for our own enjoyment as well as for the good of the radio community. Members of the my home radio club, the Fox River Radio League, have rallied to nurture and encourage the love of radio in several newly licensed youngsters by answering questions and offering information, being available for QSOs with the new operators, generously providing equipment, and encouraging the kids to get on the air, check into the net, learn new skills, and get involved in club events. We have communicated a powerful message through our actions: No ham is ever alone in this community.
Elmering isn’t always a formal relationship. If you’ve been in the hobby for any length of time, you’ve undoubtedly engaged in conversations with fellow hams about equipment challenges, operating issues or antenna performance. Tune into any frequency on any band for an example of this type of discussion. One person mentions a situation he or she is dealing with, and everyone else offers suggestions on how to diagnose the problem, possible fixes, and examples of their own experience with similar situations. You may not think of this as Elmering, but it is – and a mighty powerful example at that.
During one of my early contesting experiences, I heard an operator patiently explaining the rules of the contest to someone he had just worked. The instructions were detailed and took quite a few minutes that this fellow could have been using to gain more QSOs. But that’s what Elmers do. They give generously of their time and knowledge for the benefit of another ham.
Never underestimate the power of your influence. By virtue of the fact that you hold a license, you are an Elmer. You have attained a goal through your own hard work and experience. Whether you have been licensed for 40 years or 4 months, you have something to offer, and everything you do as an amateur radio operator teaches others.
I mailed my first membership application to the FRRL the day my call sign was issued, and every connection I’ve made with club members since then has taught me something. In those early days, I would listen to conversations on the 2-meter repeater, learning how to operate from those examples. While my Elmer, Jeff N9JZN, has always put in a lot of effort as my personal Elmer, my understanding, skills and confidence grew just as much through the input and example of the wider circle of Elmers the club provided.
During the meeting in which the Elmer vs. Elmeree question was raised, a few members who have held licenses for many years answered in a way that surprised me. In spite of their veteran status as hams, they still consider themselves Elmerees. But this perspective makes sense. In a hobby so vast, with new technology becoming available to us at every turn, there will always be something new to learn, and always someone out there with more knowledge in a particular area. We are all Elmerees in this sense, increasing our skill and benefiting from the experience that others provide.
At the same time, only .2% of the 308 million people in the United States hold an amateur radio license. If you hold a call sign, you have attained something that most of the population has not. That means every single ham, even the most recently licensed and the youngest among us, are potential Elmers. Our new hams seem to grasp this concept, even if they haven’t put it in words yet. I see it when Jeff and I are discussing radio and my daughter, Susie KC9RGO, throws in a relevant fact she recalls from her first licensing exam, or when James KC9RVP recently offered suggestions during a net, to a seasoned ham who was butting heads with his computer operating system. It is both gratifying and humbling to watch these young Elmers in action.
Our new operators influence my perspective as much as the more experienced hams whose knowledge I respect so much. The youngsters helped me realize that what each of us lacks in knowledge is less important than what we’ve gained. The true measure of a good ham is based in solid understanding and the willingness to share it. We all have something to offer, as well as something to gain. Unlike any other hobby, amateur radio is about community, give and take, and becoming the best you can be, while contributing something for the betterment of the whole.
I am both an Elmer and an Elmeree, proud of how far I’ve come and grateful for the community that is helping me move beyond. How about you?
Monday, March 29, 2010
The Thrill of the Chase
There I was, moving through the 40-meter band on Sunday morning of the CQ Worldwide Prefix contest, when I heard something I’d never encountered during a contest. Someone was calling ME, personally. W2DEC from Tucker, New Jersey, heard my QSO with another station. Since he’s working on an award called YLCC, he jumped on the opportunity.
Anyone who spends much time on the air can tell you their QSOs with women make up a very small percentage of their total contacts. We’re out there, of course – according to an ARRL survey in 2003, women constitute about 13 percent of all U.S. hams. An informal study conducted in 2005 by Ken Harker, WM5R, showed a slightly higher number – 14.85 percent. But Harker is quick to point out that his contacts with YLs on HF is very low, only about 2 percent during HF contests.
As Urb W2DEC pointed out, female hams participate less frequently in high-profile activities like contesting. In some ways, I can see why this might logically be the case. Contests are often long and grueling, and the scheduling contortions I have to perform in order to be free for even part of a weekend-long contest usually wear me out before the event begins. Perhaps this is due to a simple fact of life in our culture. Women are the primary caretakers of home and family. Children, pets, and the fact that everyone has to be fed at more or less regular intervals throughout a given weekend might make it difficult for us to indulge with the same all-or-nothing abandon some of our male counterparts enjoy.
On the other hand, ladies, my interest in radio was sparked when I watched my partner and Elmer, Jeff N9JZN, working a contest in the early days of our relationship. He talked to stations in countries I didn’t know existed. The energy was palpable, and I felt his excitement after every contact. Within a year, I had earned my first ticket and quickly upgraded to General so I could be part of the fun.
Admittedly, the rapid-fire contacts and intense nature of contesting might be part of what discourages some women from participating. Not everyone has the benefit of an on-premises Elmer to guide them through the learning curve.
To encourage my sister hams toward this area of radio, in which we are woefully underrepresented, I offer these tips for successful, stress-free contesting.
Guide to Getting Started in Contesting
• Prepare! Check your station for proper operating condition. Download the contest rules and review them in advance. Set up your logging program and get comfortable with using it. (If juggling kids and critters is part of your world, this preparation step also includes arranging for their well-being and entertainment in advance – sleep-overs, babysitters, older siblings and cooperative spouses are necessary resources for the female ham!) And don’t forget to stock up on contest food in advance. Prepare and freeze several entrees so meals will be both quick and satisfying.
• Use a logging program designed for the contest you are working. These programs are customized to provide fields for data relevant to the contest and will automatically calculate your score based on contest specifications.
• Listen in for awhile when the contest begins. Find a station that is operating calmly and efficiently, and spend the first few minutes of the contest learning from his example. You’ll become familiar with the rhythm of the QSOs and the particular exchange for the contest. It will reduce the stress from first-time contesting jitters if you know what to expect.
• Take the leap. Preparation is important, but nothing quells anxiety and builds confidence like a successful exchange.
• Know that not every attempt will result in a QSO. A rare DX station will inevitably have a huge pile-up trying to reach him. Don’t let that stop you from trying, of course, but remember that there are forces at work beyond your operating skill.
• Ask if you’re not sure. Sometimes the propogation gods smile on us, and exchanges are made easily. More often, though, you will deal with QSB (signal fading), QRN (noise on the line), and QRM (splatter from strong stations nearby or other interference). Any of these factors will sometimes mean you miss part of a call-sign or report. No one minds repeating their information, three or four times if necessary. If you’re not sure, ask.
• Related to the previous point, learn everything you can about the noise-reducing filters on your radio. An IF shift or attenuator can make the difference between a failed attempt or a successful contact.
• Don’t worry about your score. At least the first few times, you’re in it for fun. Work every station you can, whether they’re a multiplier (these boost your total score significantly) or not. All points count, but your goal in the beginning is to get comfortable and have fun.
• Unless you can devote 24/7 to contesting, don’t let the number of contacts you’ve made be reason for discouragement. In the last hours of my latest contest, I had under 200 contacts. Some stations I worked, I was their 5,000+ QSO. Others were still in the single digits. Make it a goal to 1) HAVE FUN and 2) beat only your OWN personal best. There will always be someone with bigger toys and more time out there, so focus on being the best operator you can be by your own standards, not in comparison with others.
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
Learning the Code
One of my former neighbors holds a PhD in chemistry. Always in awe of people of science – especially in the days before I’d discovered my inner ham – I asked how holding an advanced degree had affected her as a young woman.
“It made me realize,” she said after some thought, “that if I could earn this degree, I could probably do anything.”
That’s precisely how I feel since making my first CW contact last night.
All those dits and dahs beeping into one’s headphones are music to some, and terrifying chaos to others. Since the FCC dropped its Morse code requirement in early 2007, there is little motivation for those in the “chaos” camp to learn CW.
I was among the first wave of “no code” hams licensed that year, and I can see both sides of the debate over the wisdom of the FCC’s decision. On the one hand, the hobby became accessible to many people who would have shied away from radio altogether because of the challenge of learning Morse code. On the other, it seemed to me, an important tradition and useful emergency communication skill stood to be forgotten.
Learning code, in this new era, is a personal choice. Admittedly, it wasn’t the easiest aspect of radio that I’d attempted to embrace. For almost a year after upgrading to Amateur Extra, I would jump in, learn a few characters, then jump back out in frustration. Finally, after making the commitment to stick with it, I started making progress.
Why learn code when you don’t have to? There are many reasons from which to choose:
• For the tradition. Morse code was the only means of radio communication for hams until the end of the 19th century. Until the year 2000, proficiency at 20 wpm was a licensing requirement for Amateur Extras.
• For the convenience. CW can be used on all bands in the U.S. except 60 meters.
• For the efficiency. Code requires less equipment, less power and less bandwidth than other modes. It’s easier to copy code compared to voice, even in high noise/low signal situations.
• For the “brain aerobics”. Joe NA9A pointed out that using Morse code exercises the brain as effectively as learning a foreign language or playing a musical instrument. Researchers have made a strong case for the “use it or lose it” approach to keeping our cognitive skills sharp as we age.
• For emergencies. When the chips are down, any device capable of simulating an on-off signal can get a message to the outside world. Sending a simple SOS with a flashlight could save your life.
• For the community. Hams are among the most generous group of mentors I’ve ever met. They encourage, teach, and share their knowledge and their passion freely and gladly. Part of this tradition of helping new operators stems, I think, from a sense of generativity. We seek to give of ourselves to the future. Taking the torch – learning the code – and passing it on to those who follow is a fitting way to honor what they’ve made possible for the current generation of hams.
• For the accomplishment. CW is a challenge! Copying is much more difficult than sending for most people. But, oh! The thrill of facing that mountain and proving that you can, indeed, reach the top is a thrill beyond measure.
• For the fun of it. My elmer, Jeff N9JZN, and my daughter Susie and I sometimes sit around the kitchen table sending CW messages to each other via a homemade oscillator. Jeff and I have used code to communicate in situations where privacy is both essential and unavailable. It’s like passing messages as kids, which can only be read by those who possess the secret decoder ring.
Jeff called me “Code Girl” all evening as we rehashed my CW debut and basked in the glow of that shared accomplishment. The moniker may be a bit premature, as I have a lot of work to do in the weeks ahead. Difficult, frustrating, true. But the reward is very sweet indeed.
73 de KC9LQS